Page 8 of Empowered By the Earl (Second Sons of London 3)

“Then we can spend tomorrow packing,” her aunt said brightly. “You could leave for Cliffside the day after. Once you have finished your visit with His Grace and Adalyn, you may return to us. By then, I am certain we will be in the country ourselves. In fact, we could leave town and call at Cliffside for you so that we might journey home to Conley Park together. Would that be agreeable?”

Louisa nodded. “Yes, Aunt. That would give me a good three weeks or so with Adalyn. I don’t wish to wear out my welcome.”

“I will leave the planning to you ladies,” her uncle said. “I will let our coachman know, however, that you are to depart the day after tomorrow.”

They arrived at their destination and exited the vehicle, joining the receiving line inside the townhouse. For once, Louisa was not impatient waiting in it, knowing it was the last one she would stand in until next spring. She parted from her aunt and uncle, watching Uncle Uxbridge head toward the card room, while her aunt made a beeline for her friends.

Louisa accepted a programme from a footman and joined a group of acquaintances. She had never realized how catty many women of thetoncould be, another reason she was eager to be back with one or both of her cousins.

A few gentlemen approached her and requested a dance. She agreed to do so with each of them though it still left more than a few empty spots on her dance card. She was afraid she had gained something of a reputation as a bluestocking among the carefree bachelors of theton. None of them ever seemed interested in talking about anything of substance. Especially politics. Louisa knew as much as any member of the House of Lords—probably more so—because of her many conversations with her father and his guests. Instead of talking about the war or other newsworthy items, the eligible men she danced with seemed to have no conversation at all and were surprised when she tried to bring up matters of substance. Because of that, she danced less than other single ladies.

It did not matter. She would be escaping town soon.

Lord Smythe claimed her for a lively country reel and she was out of breath by the time it finished. He was, too, and asked if she would care for a glass of ratafia. Louisa eagerly accepted his offer and they went to a section where the refreshments were. Claiming a glass for each of them, Lord Smythe handed hers over and then said, “Would you care to get a bit of air, Miss Goulding? The ballroom in July grows rather heated and I could stand some fresh air.”

“That is a good idea, my lord,” and she accompanied him out a set of French doors.

A few other couples strolled along the terrace and they did the same, walking the length of it as they sipped their drinks. As they turned and made their way back along the same route, Lord Smythe asked if she might wish to sit a moment. Since she was not engaged for the next dance and the evening air felt incredibly refreshing compared to the stifling ballroom, Louisa agreed.

They sat for a brief while in silence, which she did not mind. Making small talk was something she had come to dread and so Lord Smythe’s silence was a welcomed relief.

Suddenly, he took her free hand, surprising her. She actually spilled a bit of her ratafia on his sleeve as her glass fell to the ground.

Jerking her hand from his, she apologized, “I must apologize, my lord. I hope I have not ruined your coat.”

He shrugged it off. “It is dark material. The stain will not show.” He paused and then swallowed hard.

Louisa stilled. She feared what would come out of his mouth next and guessed he was about to offer for her.

“Miss Goulding, I find you to be a lady of good breeding. You come from a good family. I am looking to—”

“My lord, let me stop you. I fear I am not a good match for you and because of that, I hope you will recognize that and merely let us return to the ballroom without further conversation.”

He cleared his throat, her message received. Downing the remainder of his ratafia, he set down the glass on the bench. Rising, he offered his arm and she took it. He placed her hand on his sleeve.

“Shall we?” he asked and led her back into the ballroom.

He returned her to where he had approached her before and bowed stiffly.

As he walked away, she hoped his dignity was still intact. She would never breathe a word of the almost proposal and she doubted he would either.

Once the dance concluded, her next partner found her. They had danced at least on four other occasions and yet the man asked the exact same, inane questions every time they were together. She tamped down her exasperation, knowing this was the last time this Season she would be in his company or any other gentleman’s, as well.

The ball concluded and she located her aunt. They joined Uncle Uxbridge and headed to their carriage.

“I hope you enjoyed the ball,” her aunt commented.

Louisa didn’t see the harm in a small, white lie and said, “I certainly did.”

They arrived at the townhouse and she found Tilly waiting up for her.

“Tilly, this is the lasttonevent I will attend this Season,” she informed the maid. “Please pack for me tomorrow, for we are departing the day after to go and visit my cousin, Her Grace, in Kent.”

“Of course, Miss Goulding,” the lady’s maid replied. “Will you be taking all your clothing or will we return to town?”

“The plan now is for me to visit the duke and duchess for the remainder of the Season and then Lord and Lady Uxbridge will come to Cliffside. I will return with them to Conley Park. So yes, please pack all my belongings for our journey.”

“Yes, Miss Goulding.”

Louisa climbed into bed, pulling up the bedclothes to her chin and burrowing into the pillow. For the first time in a long time, sleep came easily.

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