Page 32 of Forgetting the Earl
Gideon did not offer to escort her inside.
Chapter Ten
Southwell didn’t callthe remainder of the week, and after the poor ending to their day at the museum, Honora didn’t expect him to. She assumed his interest in her had waned completely, but another book had arrived just today. The dusty tome with torn pages looked as if it had been sitting on the back shelf of someone’s library for the last century. There were detailed drawings of various plants. Trees. One whole section was devoted to beetles. Notes in Gideon’s masculine hand were scribbled in the borders.
It was the second volume of Spix’s work about the Amazon, written in German.
Honora had held the book to her chest before carefully placing it on the shelf in her bedroom, wishing for an end to the confusion and muddled feelings heaped around her heart.
Now, as she made her way to the drawing room, where Emmie awaited to accompany her to Lady Trent’s ball tonight, Honora realized several things at once.
First, her jealousy of Anabeth was unwarranted. Justified, perhaps, but wholly unnecessary. Any encounter Gideon may have had with the Duchess of Denby had been well before his courting of Honora.
Second, Honora had to admit to herself that Southwellwascourting her. Gently. Carefully. There wasn’t any denying it. If he’d been bent only on seduction, he could have had her beneath the oak tree. Honora wouldn’t have stopped him.
Lastly, tonight Emmie expected Honora to discard Southwell in front of everyone in attendance at Lady Trent’s ball. A few weeks ago, Honora would have assumed the same thing.
“Don’t you look divine.” Emmie held a small snifter of brandy aloft. “I helped myself. I hope you don’t mind. I may have shocked Edward.”
Honora didn’t mind in the least. “My butler is used to being shocked.” She gave her cousin a weak smile.
Well?” Emmie said.
“Well, what?” Honora glanced at her cousin, garbed far too severely for a ball.
“I’m once again corseted and clothed in satin with the sole purpose of watching you wreak havoc on a deserving gentleman. What you did to Tarrington was nothing short of exquisite. I can’t wait to see you do the same to Southwell.” She picked up her wrap. “Shall we?”
Honora ignored her cousin’s enthusiasm, declining to move toward the door. “How do you move your arms?” She took in Emmie’s dark-blue silk. “It looks as if you had the modiste sew you into the top half of your gown.”
“I’ve not the assets”—she nodded at Honora’s bosom—“you do, cousin.” Smoothing down her skirts, Emmie said, “I expected to find you much more excited about tonight. Triumphant, as a matter of fact. Southwell is enamored of you, according to my gossiping sister-in-law. I suppose you’ll discard him when he asks you to dance, dropping hints about his manhood.” A choked laugh escaped her. “It is turning out better than I could imagine.”
“I suppose.” Honora glanced down at her hands. None of what had happened with Southwell was meant to be real, yet—it was. That was the other belated conclusion she’d come to.
“So how will you do it? It’s my understanding that your friend Anabeth—”
“She isn’t my friend as you well know.”
“I meant it facetiously, Honora. Her Grace, the Duchess of Denby, claims Southwell’saffliction”—a smile crossed her lips at the word—“is due to a terrible injury he sustained in the Amazon.”
“What an incredibly improper and questionable assumption for you to make.” The last thing Honora meant to do was discuss Gideon with Emmie.
A soft rustle met Honora’s ears, and she turned toward the drawing room door, relieved to find it empty. “We should go, Emmie.”
“Is it true?” Emmie leaned in. “Is he unable? I heard he’s scarred—” Emmie waved her hand down across her thighs. “—there. Possibly his leg wasn’t the only thing ruined.” She leaned in, eyes alight with curiosity. “Imagine breaking his heart and ensuring he’s an object of pity. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
Honora ignored her speculation and headed through the doorway. “Keep your voice down. I’m not sure Loretta is abed yet. Nor do I wish the servants to overhear.” Honora had felt the hard press of Southwell against her thigh when they’d kissed. Seen the way his trousers had strained after…well, after their picnic. No, Southwell wasn’t impaired. Not in the least.
Emmie scowled back at her. “What difference could it possibly make?”
“Madam.” Edward appeared from the depths of the house with her wrap. He bowed. “Miss Stitch.”
“Not one more word, Emmie, until we’re in the carriage.” Honora strode out the door Edward held open for her, her cousin at her heels. Once they’d settled in the carriage, Honora took a deep breath and looked Emmie directly in the eye.
“I’m not going to break his heart tonight, Emmie,” Honora said quietly.
“I understand. Why bother? The gossip the duchess has already started by claiming he is only half a man will do far worse. You won’t have to do a thing but ignore him. The rumor mill will do the rest. As it did with you. Brilliant.”
Honora stayed silent as the carriage began to move.
