Page 12 of A Perfect Engagement
“We grew up at the Derbyshire estate. We ran around the countryside there like a pair of hooligans. So I suppose both of us enjoy the country. I’m not sure Miles is much of an academic. He always enjoyed fencing and boxing far more than studying. The only thing I’ve seen him read recently are letters from his solicitor. But I can attest he is a wicked card player. What about you? Do you like to play cards?”
“I have a fair bit of talent at whist. I do so love to read. Novels, history, horticulture.” She waved a hand toward the gardens.
“What were you doing out here this morning?”
“Oh, just trimming off spent bloom stalks.”
“Don’t you have gardeners to do that sort of thing?”
“Yes, I suppose. My mother long ago let me be in charge of the gardens. The head man is used to me puttering about. He understands my need to get my hands in the dirt. There is something calming about taking care of the plants, of watching things thrive.” She chuckled and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. His gaze became ensnared by the dark, silky strand as she tucked it behind one delicate ear.
“I feel exactly the same,” he replied honestly. Where had that come from?
Her eyes flew to his, warm with mutual understanding. Her eyes reminded him of the lustrous dark green leaves of the lemon trees he’d seen during his travels in Italy. Daniel averted his gaze, and he looked up the sloping lawns to the back of the house. The intricate scrollwork of the wrought iron railings on the veranda lent an elegance to the stone house.
“Your home is beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you. The house was built by my great-grandfather. We have twelve guest rooms and five bedrooms in the family wing. The rose drawing room, the ballroom, and the library are in the back of the house. Each of them has French doors that lead out to the veranda. My father’s study and the blue drawing room look out onto the front lawns. Over there, those windows on the left, on the second floor, is the dining room. And on the right is the portrait gallery and the conservatory. The kitchens are below the dining room. They have a separate entrance door which leads out to the kitchen garden.” She pointed to the left of the veranda.
They sat quietly for a few moments listening to the cheerful chirping of the birds. Daniel contemplated what else he could tell her about Miles. Shouldn’t the two of them find out more about each other simply by spending time together? Why were they rushing to the altar?
“Excuse me if this is too impertinent of a question. But if you know so little about my brother, why the haste to get married? Miles mentioned the wedding was in just a couple of months. Why not wait and spend some time together first? Oh, unless, I see…” He cleared his throat. How could he not have realized?
Miss Grisham’s cheeks flamed bright pink. “God, no! It’s not that at all. Hawksridge has never even kissed me…” She looked down, picking at the beading on her sleeve again.
Bloody hell. Now he had insulted her. Wait, Miles hadn’t even kissed her yet? Not just uptight but a fool.
“It was a very fine offer for a girl like me. So I didn’t hesitate to accept it.”
“A girl like you?”
“I have no illusions about being a great beauty.” She gestured vaguely with one hand up and down her body. “I am rather plain and too tall. As the daughter of a baron, I could hardly think to do better than a marquess.”
Daniel’s mouth gaped at her self-deprecating description. She thought she was plain-looking? Before he could say another word, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the gravel path. Two ladies, arms linked, appeared in front of the gazebo.
“There you are. We have been sent to find you by your mother. She wants to make sure you are at breakfast to greet your fiancé.”
He stood and tipped his hat to the new arrivals.
“Ah, but I see you have already accomplished that. Lord Hawksridge, I assume?” The redheaded lady gave him what could only be described as a roguish smile. Her gaze raked him from his boots to the top of his hat.
“Lord Hawksridge, may I present Lady Susanna Ashby and Miss Eleanor Spencer. Two of my very dear friends.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
“Lord Hawksridge, you are up early. Don’t gentlemen of the ton usually sleep until noon?” Miss Spencer asked. Her smile resembled a dog baring its teeth at an intruder.
“I suppose I am the exception that proves the rule,” Daniel replied.
“We have been dying to meet you. Haven’t we, Eleanor?” Lady Susanna elbowed her friend in her side. “We found the story of how you and Charlotte met to be terribly romantic.”
How had they met? Oh yes, the rampaging carriage. “I’m not sure knocking her senseless could be considered romantic, but…” Daniel shrugged.
“What?!” Lady Susanna exclaimed.
“I painted a much more heroic picture I’m afraid.” Miss Grisham sent him a stern look. “Don’t be so modest. The carriage would have killed me if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way.”
Miss Spencer eyed him suspiciously. “Lord Hawksridge, where do you plan to reside primarily? As you can see, Hertfordshire is lovely countryside.”
