The Lord and his Lady (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Twenty Eight

A/N: a very short chapter for you since I've been behind on my schedule :(

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Miss Price cannot read? An educated woman like her? he thought as he walked back inside to the small crowd, leaving the two women to their private discussion.

He had seen Miss Price rush away after supper, and excusing himself from Eliza, had gone after her a few minutes later to ask her for a friendly dance.

He hadn't expected to find her spilling a matter so secret that he felt he had imposed on her.

"Did you find Miss Price?" asked Eliza as he reached back within the grand room.

Uncomfortable, he fixed his cravat. "She is getting some air with Miss Cavendish. I have left the ladies to it."

He didn't bother elaborating, which his fiancee caught onto quite quickly.

"Is something the matter, my dear?" she asked with the most alluring liquid silver eyes he had ever seen. Hand on his arm, she brought him back down to reality.

"What could possibly be the matter?" he fibbed. "It's a wondrous occasion, is it not?"

"Except I do not think Weston would be of that same opinion were we to ask him."

Richard and Eliza both turned to Weston who was speaking with Miss Prescott, arms waving animatedly. He was making up for lost time, Richard supposed with a covered snort.

"Poor Weston," she continued. "He must have suffered."

Richard laughed. "Miss Price says Miss Cavendish is a very nice woman. Perhaps we are too harsh on the lady? She may not be beautiful as she is plain-faced, but she must be pleasant for a compliment to be given on her person."

"True enough as that is, one can have many faces. From my experience with the young woman, she is very bull-headed and not at all how a lady should conduct herself."

"So you mean to say you and I could also have many faces depending on our company? Does that mean you are not truly yourself around me, Lady Delafort?"

Her soft, pink lips curved upwards. "I'm afraid you have caught me," she drawled. "Perhaps it is time for admittance of my true feelings?"

"I'd always suspected that there was something wrong with your character," he said. "You give me too much attention, too much love."

"Why I never!"

"Does the future Lord and Lady Caldwell never get enough of the coquetry you indulge in?" said Weston, popping up beside them with a mock disgusted frown. "You are making the rest of us normal people gag in dismay."

"Swallow that envy, cad, and turn your eyes to Miss Cavendish if you would like to receive the same treatment," said Richard with a teasing smile.

"That gibfaced woman and I?! You wound me, dear friend."

"I hope that wound is permanent, because you are a bumbling idiot."

He muttered under his breath. "I'd much rather be wounded by the lovely, beautiful Miss Prescott." He licked his lips, glancing coyly—or attempting to—over his shoulder at her standing near the fireplace. "Now that is a woman I do not mind being seen with."

"She is very easy to lay your eyes upon," agreed Richard, only to get a pinch to the arm by his lady love. She humphed. "Not quite as easy as you, of course. Why, who could forget I had such a beauty hanging off my arm?"

"'Hanging' off? You mean to say I am glued to you?"

"Well, aren't you?"

"You are becoming more and more despicable, Lord Caldwell," she replied archly.

The sound of a disgusted grunt made Richard turn. Weston was beginning to back away. "I'm going to find Devonport. I cannot stand being around the likes of the both of you when I am not blootered."

"Speaking of," said Richard, stopping him from spinning around. "Where is the man? I haven't seen him since supper."

"Perhaps in the back or front gardens? I had seen him leave a fair minute ago."

Miss Cavendish appeared through the front doors, with no Miss Price accompanying her. She beamed at Weston who evidently put on a facade as if he had not seen her approach. Over Weston's retreating shoulder, he caught his father watching him and Eliza from near the fireplace.

Eliza's grip on his arm tightened. "Have you told him?" she asked. So she had noticed, he thought.

"About the postponing of our wedding or the wedding in general?"

"Both."

"Not yet. There has been no right time to approach the subject matter."

Her tongue tentatively poked out to moisten her lips. "Mother and father are putting pressure on me to settle down," she said. "I hope now that your father is better it shan't need to be postponed for much longer. They cannot wait for long."

"All in due time, my dearest," he reassured her, placing his hand atop hers. He had no doubt that they would marry Eliza off to another suitable suitor if Richard dilly dallied any longer, but the last thing on his mind was getting wed under these circumstances.

But perhaps, the look on his father's face was inviting him to speak with him on that very matter. After all, Richard and Eliza were very open about their affections for one another. His father was the only one kept out of the inner circle from the days he had been in bedrest.

"If you will excuse me," he said to her, bowing deeply before making his way toward his father. "Father."

"Richard."

They stood opposite each other in deathly silence, allowing the clanging of glasses and whispers to overtake their surroundings.

"Is there something you would like to discuss, son?" asked his father, leaning against the hearth. His gaze didn't waver, not in the slightest.

Richard straightened. "An important matter regarding my future, yes," he confirmed. "You may have guessed, but Lady Delafort and I are to be wed."

"Is that so?"

"Quite. As the one with the title of my father, I believe it only right you are aware of the situation at present."

Something flickered across his father's face, one that could be described as barely concealed rage. Perhaps the 'one with the title of my father' was a bit too much on his part.

Before he could retrieve the words, he spoke in a forcibly dull tone, "Since I am merely 'one with the title of a father', there was no need for you to indulge such information at all."

"But that would be unbecoming of me, would it not?"

His father didn't respond. He turned away, ending the conversation without another word. Richard bowed. His mother watched the scene unfold from where she stood next to Lady Blackwood with a crease of concern evident on her forehead but he offered her a sly grin to ease her worries.

She had enough of it as it was, she needn't trouble herself with his matters, either. He could deal with it himself and if his father truly wanted to, he would as well.

Right then, the front door flung open and in rushed Miss Price, ruffled and restless, her hair in a mess about her face gathering the attention of everyone present.

He intersected her near the front pillar and gestured for her to head in the direction of the hall covered by the pot plants to be away from watchful eyes.

"You look as though you have seen a spectre," he joked to lighten the look of horror on her face.

"I...I must speak with you, Lord Caldwell. It is urgent."