Page 2 of Everything But the Earl
Beresford frowned.
They had known each other since childhood but were hardly intimate friends. Their fathers had been close friends, and Beresford and Grace had played together a bit as children, but once they came of age, they’d necessarily moved in separate spheres. She’d liked the boy Beresford—Anthony—had been, but she did not know the man who stood before her now, especially not after what she had just seen.
Oh, he was handsome, all right, in a way that made one forget one’s name, with a beautiful face and perpetually insouciant expression. But Grace just couldn’t picture them sharing a home. She likedhim but could not fathom him as her husband.
And yet, at the beginning of the Season, Grace’s parents had more or less announced this betrothal. It had seemed to have taken Beresford off-guard as well.
“I’d like you to know,” he said now, “and I say this with deep regret and the requisite apology, that I had completely forgotten about the betrothal until a month ago when my mother reminded me, mere days before it showed up in the papers.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m a right cad for not properly courting you once I did find out, but, well, the habits and goings on of a bachelor and so on.”
Beresford had always been colorful. Grace didn’t have much patience for Beresford’s rambling speeches right now, especially since she did not know how long they had to speak with each other alone. “I shall cut to the chase then, shall I?”
As if he didn’t hear her, he replied. “You were, what, six years old when our parents made that arrangement?”
Grace sighed. “Yes.”
“And I was all of eleven. Neither of us were old enough to understand what marriage even is.”
“My lord, I—”
“This may come as something of a shock, so please prepare yourself.”
Grace fought rolling her eyes. He did have a flair for the theatrical, but this was ridiculous. “Anthony.”
“That is to say, I do not believe our marriage would be much of a success. And I am afraid that my heart belongs to someone else now and I would make a dreadful husband, so my intention is to tell your father that—”
Grace held up a hand. “Your heart belongs to the Earl of Waring.”
Beresford coughed and spluttered, making a good show of looking offended.
Grace did not have patience for prevarication, either. “I saw you kiss him in the cloakroom.”
Beresford stopped objecting abruptly. “Why were you in the cloakroom?”
“I thought it was the ladies’ necessary room.”
“This house really does have too many rooms.” Beresford frowned and met Grace’s gaze. “I take it you are not going to use this information to bribe me into marrying you, are you?”
“Goodness no. Why would I do that?”
Beresford shrugged. “The curse of being a generally sociable gentleman who enjoys a good ball but also being a man of some means has put it into the heads of many ladies of thetonthat I am eligible for marriage. When I told my mother a month ago that I did not intend to marry, she reminded me of my betrothal to you. You are right, it does not make logical sense for you to blackmail me into marriage, knowing what you do about where my affections lie, but… I don’t know. The ladies of thetonare made of not much more than aspirations and subterfuge, from what I can tell.”
Grace didn’t know if she should laugh or feel offended. “You are safe from me. Before you rounded the corner, I was just saying to Penny that we are in an interesting situation. You and I, that is. You do not want to marry me, and I do not wish to marry at all.”
“A sentiment I am familiar with.”
“However, I am in a bit of a bind. I believe if you and I went to my father and told him we spoke for some time tonight and have come to the conclusion that we will not suit, he would call off the betrothal with no further questions. However, perhaps that would be hasty, because it does leave the question of what I shall do to avoid the marriage trap myself.”
“You sound as though you already have an idea.”
“Penny suggested I marry you anyway to get our parents off our backs and then continue to live separate lives. You must have acountry estate you neglect in want of a mistress of the house.”
Beresford frowned. “This is a novel idea you propose, although it is an unfair one.”
“To you? I swear, if you would like to carry on with Waring, I will not stand in your way.” Grace did not understand it, but she could think of no reason to stop it.
