A Pretend Betrothal, page 8
“And what of Australia?” Tibby asked. “Did you see a kangaroo?”
Even her mother listened with interest as he shared a story of an encounter with the unusual creature and the first time he’d caught sight of a koala bear.
“I saw one at the zoo when I was younger.” Tibby glanced at her mother. “Do you remember? We went with Father and Victor.”
Lady Dunford stared out the window for so long that he thought she wouldn’t answer. Finally, she nodded. “That was an enjoyable day.”
Tibby’s lips twisted as she watched her mother.
“How is Victor?” Michael asked, thinking it best to change the subject. “I have yet to see him since my return.”
“He is well,” Tibby said. “I’m sure you’ll meet his wife, Elizabeth, soon. We enjoy her company very much.”
“They don’t visit often,” Lady Dunford said, still staring out the window.
“Perhaps not as often as we’d like.” The look Tibby cast her mother suggested the conversation was well worn, much like the furniture. “But we’ve been invited numerous times to their home and have rarely gone.”
“They should come here instead. He knows I don’t care to venture out.”
Michael shifted in his seat, wishing he could think of another topic that might please Lady Dunford.
“We shall invite them for tea again,” Tibby suggested. “Perhaps Michael could join us so you could meet Victor’s wife.”
“I would like that,” he said warmly.
They visited for a little while longer before he moved to the edge of his chair. “I should be going.”
Tibby stood when he did. “I will see you out,” she offered.
“But he just lives next door,” her mother protested.
Michael had to wonder if she was already realizing their plan.
“He’s a dear friend who called,” Tibby said with a lift of her chin. “I will see him to the door.”
Michael was pleased she didn’t submit to all of her mother’s wishes. Though their disagreements were minor, they had to wear on Tibby when she endured them each and every day. Michael’s admiration for her increased another notch.
He followed her out of the drawing room and down the stairs, pausing in the entrance hall. If her butler hadn’t been standing nearby, he might’ve reached for her hand.
The realization caught him by surprise. He needed to remember the pretend component of this relationship.
“Thank you for calling,” she said.
“The pleasure was mine. I look forward to doing so again.” With a nod, he departed. Only when he had nearly returned to his house did he realize they hadn’t decided on their next step.
He paused to look back at Tibby’s house, debating on whether to speak with her now, only to see her mother watching him from the drawing room window. Their eyes met, then she gave a small shake of her head and turned away.
Hmm. He had to think that Lady Dunford wasn’t pleased with the new development in her daughter’s life. That only made him more determined to see their plan through so Tibby could have some hope for the future despite her mother’s lack of interest in one.
THE NEXT MORNING, TIBBY practically danced in her bedroom as she prepared for the day. She managed to curb her good spirits when Alice arrived to help her dress.
“Aren’t you in a fine mood this morning, Lady Tabitha,” Alice remarked as she laced her corset.
“I am.” How could she not be when the plan was going so well?
Her mother had remarked on the oddness of Michael’s visit when Tibby had returned to the drawing room after she’d seen him to the door. “I have no idea why he thought he needed to call on us.”
Tibby had felt the weight of her regard. This was her chance to make what was coming clear. She’d seized it with both hands. “We have had a few conversations since his return,” she began. “I confess that my feelings for him are growing.”
“A friendship is just that. A friendship. Don’t make it more than it is.” Her mother had sniffed.
“I think it might indeed be more.” Rather than remain to argue, Tibby had quickly excused herself and left Alice to sit with her mother for a time.
Michael had sent a message, asking her to come by the greenhouse in the morning if possible so they could decide what their next steps would be. Having the meeting to look forward to made it easier to endure the dour looks her mother sent her way.
Last evening, dinner had been a stilted affair, her mother’s poor mood obvious. Though Tibby felt guilty to be the cause of it, she held back from apologizing—or worse, telling her the truth.
This was for her mother’s own good. She wasn’t happy. Surely trying new activities to bring her out of the house would aid her. Tibby need only be patient and continually encourage her.
Tibby had read to her before bed as usual. But by the time she’d sought her own bed, she was exhausted from striving for a balance between countering her mother’s negative remarks and ignoring them.
The thought of seeing Michael at the greenhouse again made it easier to forget—and forgive—her mother’s behavior.
“Is Lady Dunford still sleeping?” Tibby asked.
“Yes. She might have a bit of a lie-in this morning as it took her some time to fall asleep last night.”
Alice or one of the other maids stayed with her mother until she slept. She didn’t like to be alone at that time of the evening. Tibby occasionally did as well but given that she spent nearly all day every day with her, the maids insisted they were happy to sit with her.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tibby said, guilt dimming her happiness.
Michael’s visit had obviously upset her mother even more than Tibby had realized. Deep inside, she’d hoped her mother might be excited for her. Thrilled that her daughter might have found someone.
How silly.
“Please let me know when she wakes.”
“Of course, my lady.”
After Tibby went downstairs for a light breakfast, she checked the time. The hour was still early, but she wanted—needed—to see Michael, if only for a few minutes.
She retrieved her shawl then informed the butler where she was going in case any problem arose. After stepping out of the garden door, she slipped through the gate and into the Trafford Garden, her heart lifting at the sight of the greenhouse.
As she neared it, Michael came out. Her entire body tightened at the sight of his handsome visage.
“Tibby.” His broad smile caught her by surprise, making her breathless. “How good to see you.”
“Good morning.”
He walked forward and took both her hands in his.
Oh my. The way he looked into her eyes and held her hands made her heart hammer with delight. She had to find a way to make him a permanent part of her future rather than just temporary.
“I’m so pleased you came by,” he said.
She thought that was what they’d agreed on, but she still appreciated his warm greeting.
He glanced toward the second story of his house, making her wonder why. But how could she be bothered with the question when he then stared into her eyes as if he was happy to see her?
Her heart fluttered at the thought.
“How was your evening?” He tucked her hand under his arm and led her along one of the garden paths with slow steps.
“Rather uneventful.” She smiled up at him, hesitating to tell him about her mother. “And yours?”
“Much the same.” He paused and turned to face her, reaching for her hand again. “How is Lady Dunford today?”
“Still resting.” She shook her head. “She wasn't especially happy after your visit yesterday, but I did my best to ignore her remarks.”
“I know it must be a challenge. I certainly admire the way you care for her. It seems as if your brother doesn't help as much as he should.”
“He used to come more frequently, but mother made it a habit to list her complaints when he did. If I were him, I probably wouldn't visit often either. I've tried to explain that she should talk about other things to no avail.”
Again, he glanced at his house as if looking for something.
“Is all well?” she asked, wondering at his odd behavior.
“Quite. Upon my return home yesterday, I advised Mother and Grandmother that I had called on you. Hopefully, they are starting to understand what that means.” He reached out and cupped her cheek, the tender gesture squeezing her heart.
How was she supposed to remember this was pretend when he made such sweet gestures?
“How did they take the news?” she asked.
“Grandmother seemed puzzled, but Mother smiled and told me that I was a good friend to you.”
“That wasn’t exactly what we were hoping for. I suppose it might take time for them to see our intentions.” Dismay swept over Tibby. Of course, his family couldn’t imagine more between them when she was still plain Tibby who hadn’t caught the attention of a suitor in years.
“Perhaps we can find a way around that.” He leaned close then closer still.
Was he truly going to kiss her here? Alarm speared through her at the thought. But not enough to pull back. Desire took over, dismissing the alarm.
The kiss shocked her to her toes even though she knew it was coming. His lips fit hers perfectly. His experience was clear. She didn’t think she’d ever become accustomed to his kisses.
When her legs weakened, she found herself leaning into him.
He reached for her waist, his hands holding her firmly. Still feeling unsteady, she reached up to place her hands on his chest. Somehow, the physical touch did little to settle her reeling thoughts.
Just when she hoped he might deepen the kiss, he eased back and looked into her eyes once again.
Oh. My. She could only blink up at him, stunned by the feelings coursing through her.
“That should help,” he murmured.
“Help what?” she managed, sounding as if she had a frog in her throat.
“Help to convince my mother, who is watching us from her sitting room window.”
His explanation sank in slowly. Her heart sank as well. Of course, he hadn’t been that pleased to see her. This had all been a ploy to convince his mother that they were interested in each other.
She told herself to be happy that he was taking the plan so seriously. If his mother had witnessed their kiss, she wouldn’t be surprised when they announced their betrothal.
But part of her longed for him to have been happy to see her. To have wanted to kiss her of his own accord.
Had he even enjoyed it? She thought he had. Hoped he had. Then again, she had no experience with such things. Still, she couldn’t believe all kisses were like that one.
“I won’t look to see if she’s still watching,” he said. “But just in case, shall we walk for a time?”
“Certainly.” She forced a smile. Somehow, she had to remember to keep her wits about her when she was with Michael. And especially when they kissed.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t store away these moments in her memory to pull out if her plan didn’t work and she was alone in the coming years. If only the kisses they’d shared didn’t mean so much to her. She needed to take care, remaining hopeful but not falling head over heels for this man.
“Shall we discuss our next step?” she asked, proud of herself for sounding calm. She could do this, couldn’t she?
Chapter Eight
Michael entered Tibby’s drawing room three days later, worry weighing heavily on his shoulders. She had arranged for Victor and his wife to come for tea, and he had been invited as well. The plan was for Michael to have a moment to speak alone with Victor Malton, the Earl of Dunford, to ask for her hand in marriage.
In the days since he’d kissed her in the garden, they’d managed several occasions together to show their families how close they were becoming.
He’d gone so far as to tell his mother how much he cared for Tibby. Yet he couldn’t deny the guilt that warred with the need to help Tibby—and himself—with their plan. At times, he wondered if he should’ve just told his mother what they were doing.
However, he had no doubt that she would disapprove. Nor would it solve his own problem of wanting to be free from her constant remarks about finding a wife.
The reasons for her disapproval would be valid, which didn’t sit well with him either. She would have the same worry that he did—what would happen to Tibby after they broke off the betrothal?
It was too late to act on his second thoughts. He and Tibby had started down this path, and he was committed to seeing it through to the conclusion.
He didn’t understand why the betrothal felt so real at times. As if he and Tibby would get along well if all this were actually happening.
What had rattled him was kissing her. Enjoying it was one thing. As he’d previously acknowledged, he was a man with normal wants and needs. But the extent to which he looked forward to more of those moments shocked him.
Desire was only part of his growing admiration for Tibby. Her care and regard for her mother despite the difficulty of the situation were amazing. Then there was the way she made him feel. He could be himself without the need to wear a mask, pretending to be or feel something he wasn’t. Especially not when only the two of them were together.
Even now, his gaze met hers and his world settled. He would hazard a guess that he wasn’t the only one nervous based on how tightly she clasped her hands before her as she stood to greet him.
Tibby’s mother gave him a polite, if cool, smile but remained seated.
“Good to see you again, Shaw.” Dunford stood to shake his hand.
“You as well. It’s been a long time.”
Lord Dunford looked much as Michael remembered with brown hair a shade darker than Tibby’s. It was clipped short and combed to one side. Long sideburns narrowed his face, but he’d appeared to have gained a stone or two in the last decade.
“May I introduce my wife, Lady Elizabeth?”
Michael bowed. “It’s a pleasure, my lady. Lady Tabitha speaks highly of you.”
“How kind of her.” Tibby’s sister-in-law was a rather plain woman with brown hair, a plump figure, and a kind face. She seemed distracted, continually glancing at her mother-in-law as if concerned about what the older woman might say.
“Tibby tells me you’ve sold your commission.” Dunford gestured for Michael to sit then he and his wife did so as well.
“Yes. The time had come to return home.”
“I hope the adjustment has gone smoothly.”
Michael’s gaze sought Tibby’s without him thinking twice. “It was rather difficult at first but has quickly improved.”
Tibby smiled in response.
Michael made certain to hold her gaze for a long moment. If Dunford were paying attention, he would soon notice more was going on between them than simple friendship.
Tibby poured tea once it arrived. He was pleasantly surprised when she remembered he preferred his tea black and placed his favorite sandwiches and biscuits on his plate before handing it to him. Her thoughtfulness never failed to touch him.
Lady Dunford said little as they enjoyed the tea, her attention holding on her son while nibbling on one of the sandwiches and sipping her tea.
Michael wondered at her thoughts. From what Tibby had said at different times over the last few days, Lady Dunford was continuing to make life difficult with her frequent complaints and supposed illnesses with ever-changing symptoms.
The conversation moved from Dunford speaking about a few issues before the House of Lords to upcoming social functions.
“We don’t attend many events, but I am looking forward to the Barrington Ball,” his wife said with a smile at her husband. “It should be an entertaining evening.”
“That particular ball was always a pleasure, but I don’t think I’ll feel well enough to attend this year.” Lady Dunford heaved a beleaguered sigh.
“Hmm.” Dunford’s lips twisted as he regarded his mother. “It seems you haven’t felt well enough to go the last several years.”
Tibby kept her gaze fixed on her plate. Surely, she was ready for her brother to deal with their mother for a change.
“My constitution isn’t what it used to be.” Lady Dunford’s chin lifted, a hint of stubbornness gleaming in her eyes.
“Doing something you used to enjoy might help to improve it,” her daughter-in-law said with a tight smile. “Perhaps you could attend the ball even if just for a brief time.”
“Yes, Mother.” Tibby gave an encouraging nod to her sister-in-law. “Elizabeth may be right. You haven’t seen your friends for an age. I’m sure they’d be delighted to visit with you. That would lift your spirits.”
Michael waited to see how Lady Dunford would respond, watching Tibby’s hopeful expression. Would this be the moment Tibby had hoped for? That her mother would return to her former life and no longer depend on her daughter so heavily?
While that would be wonderful for Tibby and her family, especially Lady Dunford, he suddenly realized how terrible it would be for him. He liked helping Tibby. He liked being needed. Most of all, he liked Tibby and this new relationship they were forming.
What he didn’t like was the thought of ending their association before it had even begun. Not yet. Not until—
He cut off the thought, uncertain where it might lead.
“I will see how I feel the day of the ball.” Lady Dunford shook her head. “It seems doubtful that I would have the energy to go even for a short time.”
“We shall hope for the best,” Lady Elizabeth said with a resigned look at both her husband and Tibby.
The look suggested the three had dealt with similar conversations before without success.
Michael released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. How dreadful of him not to want Lady Dunford to make a miraculous recovery. Not yet anyway.
After everyone had finished their tea, Michael cleared his throat. “I wonder if I might speak with you in private for a moment, Dunford.”
