Engaged to a Friend (Convenient Arrangements Book 6) Read online

  “Wonderful, I thank you,” Lady Croome replied, looking at the tray of refreshments with bright eyes. “I am quite famished, even though it has not been too long since luncheon!”

  “Then please,” Oliver said grandly, “do not hold back on our account, Lady Croome.” He lifted one eyebrow in the direction of Lord Jennings in an attempt to state that Lady Croome, it seemed, was in quite good spirits and certainly not injured in any way by his lack of response to her note. Lord Jennings merely smiled and turned his head away, leaving Lady Croome to look from one to the other, her forehead beginning to wrinkle in confusion.

  Seeing this, Oliver spread his hands. “It is only that Lord Jennings and I were discussing how things were last evening,” he said by way of explanation. “That is all.”

  “I see,” Lady Croome murmured, picking up her teacup and taking a sip. “Then you will be glad to know, Lord Yarmouth, that I have at least three young ladies that I think worthy enough to suggest to you.”

  Oliver blinked in surprise, missing the broad grin that spread across Lord Jennings’s face. “Indeed,” he murmured. “So soon.”

  She shrugged. “I am well acquainted with many within the beau monde,” she reminded him. “I had some time this morning to consider things, and during my considerations, the names of three young ladies, in particular, came to mind. I am quite certain that they will all be at Hyde Park this afternoon. Where, of course, we must go if you are to observe them from afar and, if you like any of them in particular, then we shall continue with introductions. That is,” she finished, with a quick smile, “if you are not acquainted with them already!”

  “What are their names?” Oliver asked, finding nothing but a sense of disappointment clouding his soul as though he had wanted Lady Croome to appear at the house without any great enthusiasm to do as he had asked, which was quite a foolish thought in itself. “Are their fathers all titled? Do they have—”

  “Let us take one thing at a time,” Lady Croome interrupted, laughing. “Else, you shall do nothing but ask me questions and may even refuse to look upon them, which certainly will not do.”

  Oliver attempted to look offended. “I shall do nothing of the sort!” he declared, eyeing her. “What questions do you think I might ask that would then make me turn away from them?”

  A coy smile spread across Lady Croome’s face. “You think that I do not know you as well as I do?” she asked with a quiet laugh. “Do you think that I do not know that, should a lady be the second daughter of a titled gentleman, who therefore would be granted a smaller dowry, that you would not look down upon such a connection?” She laughed as Oliver dropped his head, feeling a flush burn up his neck and into his face. “You may not have ever acknowledged such a thing out loud, but I know still that those particular desires linger on within your heart.”

  Oliver did not know what to say. It was true that he had never once expressed that particular suggestion to either Lord Jennings or to Lady Croome, but somehow, she already knew that about him. It was a rather discomfiting sensation, and, as he shot her a glance, he felt his flush burn all the hotter as she laughed again.

  “Well, this is very interesting, indeed!” Lord Jennings exclaimed, rising from his chair and coming towards Oliver, standing behind him. “Tell me, Lady Croome. If Lord Yarmouth were to choose a lady based solely on the color of her hair and the shade of her eyes, then what sort of lady might he choose?”

  No, Oliver thought to himself, holding his head up a little more as he looked back at Lady Croome, quite certain that he had the victory here. There is no feasible way for her to ever gain such knowledge. I am certain of it.

  For a moment, it looked as though Lady Croome was entirely uncertain about her answer, for she studied Oliver with that familiar gaze, looking into his face as if she might find the answer there.

  And then, she grinned.

  Oliver’s heart sank.

  “I think that, should Lord Yarmouth have a choice before him such as the one you have described, Lord Jennings, he would settle on a lady with fair tresses that gleam gold in the sun.” Her eyes danced with merriment as Oliver stared fixedly at her, his astonishment growing with every moment. “And he would prefer that a lady have green eyes of some description. Although he would accept brown eyes, similar to his own.”

  Oliver shook his head in astonishment, unable to join in the laughter that came from both Lady Croome and Lord Jennings. “Quite how you know such a thing about me, I cannot even begin to imagine,” he said as Lady Croome giggled, her eyes sparkling.

  “Does that mean that she is correct, then?” Lord Jennings asked, grinning broadly as he resumed his seat. “You cannot deny the truth, simply to save face!”

  Closing his eyes, Oliver let out a long breath. “Yes, indeed, it is all just as she says,” he replied with a shake of his head. “It is almost frightening to hear my innermost thoughts spoken aloud by another!”

  “It merely shows the depths of our friendship,” Lady Croome replied, picking up her teacup again. “But once we are finished with our time here, I should like very much to go to Hyde Park with you both in the hope of pointing out these young ladies, should they be present.” She smiled at him. “Otherwise, the ball this evening should be adequate, although I am sure you should like to be aware of them first before you ask them to dance.”

  Oliver swallowed hard, feeling a strange reluctance building up within him. He did not want to have these young women pointed out to him. He did not want to have to acquaint himself with them or ask them to dance. It was all becoming a little too overwhelming, making him realize that he might very well find himself courting a lady by this time next week. A lady who could, in three or four short weeks, become his betrothed. And who, a month thereafter, would become his wife.

  “Hyde Park sounds like a capital idea!” Lord Jennings boomed as Oliver fought to keep his composure. “Although, do have as much tea as you wish, Lady Croome, before we set out.” He chuckled, and Oliver frowned. “Although, I do not think it will be you who requires sustaining!”

  “I am quite all right,” Oliver snapped, surprising both Lord Jennings and Lady Croome. “Shall we set out?” He did not wait for their answer but rose to his feet and walked from the room, leaving Lady Croome and Lord Jennings to follow. The fast beating of his heart and the sweat that broke out on his brow betrayed a gentleman rather overwhelmed with emotion, but it was not something he would speak of to anyone. Not even Lady Croome.

  “If she knows me as well as she states, then surely she will already know of my feelings on this matter,” he muttered to himself, striding towards the front door, his brows low over his eyes as his jaw set. How he wished he could have some of the same glee that Lady Croome and Lord Jennings exhibited so easily! But try as he might, Oliver could feel nothing but frustration, distress, and pain. This afternoon would not be a pleasant one, no matter how much he wished it otherwise.

  “You are not going to leave without us, I hope?”

  He stopped at the front door, turning to see Lady Croome coming after him.

  “Lord Jennings will be but a moment,” she said, settling one hand on his arm as she came to stand in front of him. There was no laughter in her expression now, only concern. “Something is troubling you, is it not?”

  Letting out his breath slowly, Oliver closed his eyes. “It is difficult to imagine myself betrothed within only a few weeks,” he said, admitting aloud the fears in his heart. “And then to be wed only a month after that.”

  Her smile was gentle and filled with understanding. “I quite understand,” she told him, and there was truth within her words. “My first Season, I still recall my father telling me that I would be wed within a month. I had only a few months in London and, within that time, was given an opportunity to simply prepare myself for being a bride. It came as something of a shock to be told such a thing, but there was nothing for me to do but accept.”

  Oliver felt the tension begin to leave his frame, looking down at
Lady Croome and finding that her quiet words had broken the chain that had been tight across his chest. “You very rarely speak of your father.”

  “There is no need to do so,” she replied with a lightness that he did not truly believe. “Now that I am an independent widow, he has no need to consider me. That was his primary goal, I believe.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “To remove responsibility from himself, so that he would not have to consider me any further.”

  This brought a spark of anger to Oliver’s heart, and he placed his hand over hers. “That is not the way of a gentleman.”

  “But it is the way of my father,” Lady Croome replied, looking up at him with a rueful smile. “Fathers are strange creatures, Lord Yarmouth. They make strange requests of us, demand that we do what they wish, and think of consequences to face us when we do not do as they wish.”

  Fully aware that she was speaking of not only her own father but also of his, Oliver could only grunt in response. Lady Croome knew all too well the difficulties that had faced him when it came to his father, and he realized now that she could well understand the struggles his own heart was facing, given that she had been forced into matrimony herself.

  “But we must face what is given us with a strong determination to make the best of it,” Lady Croome finished, her gaze still fixed and steady. “For if we do not, then everything will seem dark and filled with misery. And what will become of our hearts then?”

  Oliver lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “You are always so very kind, Tabitha,” he told her, honestly. “Your words bring comfort to my heart and quietness to my discontented spirit.”

  “I did not mean to tease you,” she said, now appearing to be a trifle anxious. “It was only in—”

  “There is nothing that you need concern yourself with,” he interrupted, letting her hand go as the sound of Lord Jennings’ footsteps began to hurry towards them. “You are my dearest friend, Lady Croome, and I am truly grateful for your guidance and for your sweet words of comfort.” With a smile, he settled his shoulders and drew in a long breath. “Very well. To Hyde Park we shall go.”

  Lady Croome smiled up at him. “With determination in our hearts?”

  “With determination and intent,” he said with a small bow. “And a promise that I shall consider each and every lady with great care, Tabitha, so that you cannot find fault with me.”

  For a moment, it seemed as though a shadow fell across Lady Croome’s face, but it was gone seconds later.

  “Then let us go,” she said cheerfully, just as Lord Jennings joined them. “Let us see just what you make of each lady I have chosen!” Her eyes twinkled as she smiled up at him. “But have no fear. If you find legitimate fault with them, Lord Yarmouth, then I have every intention of settling more before your eyes!”

  “I am grateful,” Oliver replied, as Lord Jennings chuckled quietly. “Can I lead you to the carriage, my lady?” He gave her an overdone bow, and Lady Croome laughed before giving him her hand. It was in better spirits that Oliver led her to his waiting carriage, thinking quietly to himself that Lady Croome was truly the best of ladies. There was none like her, and, indeed, he was truly grateful for all that she offered him.

  Chapter Six

  Their visit to Hyde Park had not gone as well as Tabitha had hoped. There had only been two of the ladies present, and when she had pointed each one out to Lord Yarmouth, he had not made any expression of delight at her suggestions. Both the young ladies had been pretty, from good families, and with a decent dowry; as far as Tabitha was concerned, they would have suited him very well indeed. But, for whatever reason, he had wrinkled his nose and shaken his head—to the point that Tabitha herself had wanted to shake him in frustration! Did he not know just how difficult it had been for her to even consider some of these young ladies? Had he any understanding of the trouble that had tormented her soul when she had thought of what he had asked her to do?

  Of course, she reasoned, he had no knowledge of it whatsoever, and given that she herself had no real understanding as to why she felt such a way when it was a very reasonable and understandable request that he had made, it was better that he did not know of her own emotions on the subject either.

  “You are certain that these three young ladies are wise choices for Lord Yarmouth?”

  Tabitha looked at her friend. “I should think so,” she said as Lady Ashbrook pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Unless there is something about their character that I am not aware of as yet?”

  Lady Ashbrook frowned, but then shook her head. “No, there is nothing that comes to my mind,” she said quietly, making Tabitha wonder why she had even questioned Tabitha’s choice in the first place. “I suppose, it is only that I know so little of Lord Yarmouth’s preferences and considerations that I ask. But,” she continued, with a wry smile, “I suppose that is why he asked you to be involved.”

  “Precisely,” Tabitha replied, ignoring the strange tightness that took hold of her heart for a moment. “Miss Bartlett is the daughter of a viscount, Lady Marina is the daughter of an earl, as is Lady Emma. I am sure that these young ladies are more than suitable, although Lady Emma does have a few airs and graces that might be a trifle irritating.”

  Lady Ashbrook chuckled. “Lady Emma is the daughter of the Earl of Blackmore, is she not?” she asked, as Tabitha nodded. “Then she takes after her mother, who is well known to be rather proud of her marriage to the earl. I believe she was nothing more than the daughter of a viscount, who did very well in her marriage. She has not forgotten it since the day she became engaged!”

  Tabitha tried to laugh, but the sound stuck in her throat. Why was she finding it so very difficult to place a young lady in front of Lord Yarmouth? What was it that troubled her so? She could not place precisely what it was, but it grew with force every time Lord Yarmouth and his proposed engagement came to her mind.

  “There he is!” Lady Ashbrook exclaimed, grasping Tabitha’s arm tightly. “There! Come now, you must make the first of the introductions, for I confess that I am eager indeed to see what he makes of her.”

  Forcing a smile to her face, Tabitha allowed Lady Ashbrook to lead her towards Lord Yarmouth, smiling at him as he turned to face her. Lord Jennings, who seemed to be Lord Yarmouth’s constant companion at present, greeted them both warmly and then looked at Tabitha expectantly. At this, she could not help but smile. It seemed as though the reason Lord Jennings was almost always in Lord Yarmouth’s company was solely because, like Lady Ashbrook, he wanted to see just what Lord Yarmouth would make of her suggestions.

  “It seems I am to have a captive audience this evening,” Lord Yarmouth said with what appeared to be a grimace. “Lord Jennings is very excited to know just which of the ladies present this evening you are to recommend, Lady Croome.”

  “Is that so?” Tabitha remarked, arching one eyebrow as she looked back at Lord Jennings, who did nothing but grin. “Then mayhap it is because he also is seeking a bride and wishes very much to know the ladies I think most suitable, in the hope that, should you refuse them, he might then consider them.” Her smile spread as Lord Jennings flushed and dropped his gaze, his hands tight behind his back as he stammered that it was not so, making the others laugh. Tabitha could not help but join in, feeling pleased that they were able to tease Lord Jennings instead of him focusing solely on Lord Yarmouth’s present circumstances.

  “In all seriousness, however,” Lord Yarmouth said once the smiles had faded, “I should like to know the lady you intend to introduce me to first.”

  “That I shall not do,” Tabitha told him as his eyes flared wide. “For you shall do as you did this afternoon—look at her and decide that she shall not do. Thus, if you will attend with me, I shall make certain to introduce you to the lady. Thereafter, you will seek to dance with her, although I cannot be certain that she will have any remaining spaces.”

  Lord Yarmouth looked a little impressed. “Then she is well known in the beau monde?” he asked as T
abitha lifted one shoulder. “Had I perhaps been eager to spend more time in society and to make introductions of my own, then mayhap I would know her.”

  “Mayhap you already do,” Tabitha told him, taking his arm and seeing Lady Ashbrook and Lord Jennings coming after them. “I shall not make the introduction obvious, of course, but you must converse with her and dance at least once before you can make any sort of judgment.”

  Lord Yarmouth nodded firmly, his jaw set and no expression of delight or even enjoyment on his face.

  “And you must try to look a little pleased when you are introduced,” Tabitha insisted, unable to hide her smile. “At present, you appear to be greatly worried about what is to come.”

  “Perhaps I am,” he replied, making her smile fade in an instant. “It is a very odd situation, Tabitha. I always hoped that I should one day find a lady whose presence was something I could not turn from. I wanted to find myself thinking of her often, to know that there was even an interest there before I would even consider courtship.”

  Tabitha smiled gently, appreciating his words and his intentions. “That may still be the case,” she suggested tentatively. “Just because a match might be hurried, might be necessary, does not mean that you shall not have an interest as you speak of.” Her heart squeezed painfully, but she brushed the feeling aside in a moment. “You might discover yourself quite taken with Lady Emma.”

  Blinking rapidly, Lord Yarmouth looked down at her with a knitted brow. “Lady Emma?” he repeated. “The daughter of the Earl of Blackmore?”

  “Precisely,” Tabitha replied, grateful that he had not instantly refused to meet with the lady. “You are acquainted with her already?”

  He shook his head. “I am not,” he said slowly. “But I have heard of her.”

  Tabitha dared not ask what specifically he had heard of the lady, choosing instead to remain quiet as they approached. Lady Emma was resplendent in a gown of gentle lavender, her hair cascading down from where it was pinned to the back of her head. She was speaking with animation to someone that Tabitha could not, as yet, identify, but Tabitha noted with interest that Lady Emma’s gaze flickered towards them and then lingered on Lord Yarmouth for a moment or two.