The Earl, the Lady and the Song of Love by Fanny Finch
Chapter 18
After two frustrating sleepless nights, Nigel rose on the second morning with his mind made up.
He was going to Miss Hartford and he would tell her the truth. Well, some of the truth. He did not think he could let her know of his feelings—not yet. He would simply ask that they both left their hearts open to the option of love.
After all, since they both found each other agreeable, it was not far-fetched to believe that they could come to grow in love. Indeed, telling her so would be better than a sudden confession.
With this in mind, he called on to his valet to help him dress for the day. As soon as he was ready, he began his journey to Brighton Street.
Mr. Ramson, their butler, was the one who welcomed him.
“Good day, my Lord,” the older man greeted as he dipped in a bow. “Whom are you here for, if I might ask? Miss Hartford or Mr. Hartford?”
“Good day, Mr. Ramson. I am here for the lady of the house,” Nigel replied.
“Ah . . . Miss Hartford. I will let her know of your presence. If you would not mind waiting.”
Nigel shook his head. He did not mind at all. His palms were sweaty, and his stomach would not stop churning, but he did not mind at all.
Oblivious to the feelings Nigel was wrestling, the butler smiled at him and turned to leave.
As Nigel remained in the hallway, awaiting his arrival, hundreds of thoughts crossed his mind. More times than he could count, he considered turning to leave and writing a letter of apology later in the day, claiming an urgent matter arose.
Coward.
He had never known himself to be one and refused to claim the title, so he stayed where he was.
What seemed like an eternity later, the butler returned.
Still smiling, he dipped his head. “Miss Hartford will see you now.”
Mr. Ramson turned to go back the way he had come and this time, Nigel followed him to the drawing room. As they reached the doors, he stopped, giving the butler the chance to announce his presence.
“Miss Hartford, his Lordship, the Earl of Kensington,” he heard the older man call from inside.
As he stepped out of the drawing room, Nigel murmured his thanks.
His stomach churned harder and his heart was thudding so fast, his chest hurt. Everything in him fought against the deed he was about to do but he knew there was no turning back.
This is it.
He dragged in a lungful of air then, releasing it in a ragged breath. It helped, if only a little bit.
Feeling slightly better, he crossed the threshold into the drawing room.
The moment he entered, she turned to look up at him and he knew that no matter how that morning turned out, he was right to have come.
The mere sight of her made it all worth it.
It was like healing salve to an ailing heart, the beauty that she possessed. For him, it was more than just her fair looks. It was the way her eyes shone like stars.
The way the corners of her lips creased when a smile stole his way across her face. It was in that slight raise of her brow when she was truly intrigued by something.
The way her cheeks flushed red when she was happy or shy. The heart that cared for his horses. That soothing voice that could bring a lost soul home.
To him, everything about Miss Hartford was gorgeous, beyond what words could tell.
“Lord Kensington!” she chimed, breaking him out of the captivity that was his thoughts. “I did not think that I would be seeing you so soon. I was looking forward to the Nottingham ball for that reason.”
She was looking forward to seeing me again.
He was probably too old for it, but Nigel could swear he felt butterflies flutter in his belly.
Unable to help himself, he returned the brilliant smile she gave him.
“I apologize for coming unannounced. I do hope I am not intruding or taking you away from anything.”
Her smile widened. “Oh, not at all. On the contrary, I am happy to see you. I was only reading a book, you see. It happens to be one I have read before as well. It can wait. Please, come sit. I have sent for tea.”
She did look happy to see him. Her striking green orbs were twinkling, and she would not stop grinning.
Reassured by this, Nigel started to feel his nerves release their hold on him. He walked further into the room and took a seat.
Perhaps it would not be as difficult as I had reckoned.
The warmth with which she was receiving his sudden presence gave him hope. Made him think that she might not consider his suggestion outrageous, after all.
“Thank you,” he murmured as he settled in.
Just then, a maid arrived with a tray and as she set it on the table, Miss Hartford said, “You may leave now. I shall do the pouring. Thank you, Abigail.”
The maid dipped in a shallow curtsy and in another moment, she was gone from the drawing room.
Silence continued to reign as Miss Hartford filled their cups. When she was done, she handed Nigel his.
“I do believe this is the first time I am receiving you by myself.”
She said as she withdrew into her seat, her own cup in hand.
Nigel raised his brow in question as he lifted it to his lips.
“This is the second time you are visiting my home. The first time, you were here as my father’s guest,” she explained.
Nigel nodded, understanding then. “Is it truly only the second time? Goodness, it does not feel like it.”
She chuckled. “I know what you mean. That evening when we first met feels like such a long time ago.” She paused to sip from her cup. “Yet, the memory remains fresh in my head as if it was only just yesterday.”
There was something in the way she was looking at him that made the butterflies in his belly flutter harder.
No one ever told me men, too, feel butterflies. I have been lied to all my life.
“I know your meaning,” he said as he dropped his cup from his lips. “It is the same for me.”
“Ah. It appears we have a lot of things in common, my Lord. I wonder what more we are yet to discover. The prospect, I must say, is exciting.”
“It is a good thing we have plenty of time to learn all of our similarities, is it not?”
“It is,” she replied simply.
There it was again . . . that look, and that smile he found himself utterly fond of.
Nothing more was said between them for a short while. They simply reveled in the silence as they drank their tea. Nigel had to admit he had never tasted tea as nice in his entire life.
He wondered what herbs had been used to brew this one. He reminded himself to ask whenever he visited again.
“Your father and brother are not home?” he asked, ending the silence.
She nodded. “It is only I. They left this morning. Business matters. A shipment just arrived from Spain, I believe. They went to see to it.”
Nigel nodded slowly. “They work very hard.”
Miss Hartford chuckled softly. “Too hard if you ask me. I have learned to stop offering my help. All I ever hear is ‘you are a lady, Imogen, you must not trouble yourself with such matters.’ Hmm.”
Nigel laughed at the perfect mimicry of her father’s voice.
“You sound exactly like him.”
Her eyes widened, twinkling with happiness. “I do, do I not? He must not know of this. He hates it when I tease him so. Let this be our little secret.”
She was trying so hard to seem serious, but he could see her evident struggle with the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Deepening his, he answered. “Of course. My lips are sealed.”
He made a show of locking his lips and throwing the keys away and that did it for her. Losing the struggle, she broke into laughter.
It was music to his ears. One his soul would always crave.
As she recovered, she cleared her throat.
“It truly is wonderful to have you here with me. I must admit, my morning is going far better than I thought it would. I am laughing hard and I am enjoying your company. I could not ask for more.”
Does she know what she does to me with those words?
It was clear, Nigel thought, that he was hopeless to resist her charms. He was not certain whether she was aware of just how plentiful they were. She did not even have to try. It was who she was.
Seeing her so open and free with him made his spirits soar, made him know he was doing something right.
“If only you had an inkling how much it thrills my heart to hear you say that. I was not sure that I would be welcome, since I decided to call without notice. However, I am pleased I decided to do so anyway. It truly is an amazing way to begin my day.”
“Then I hope that the rest of the day goes just as wonderfully.”
She proceeded to fill their cups again, and he watched her, mesmerized. When she was done, she gestured for him to take his. He muttered his thanks, doing just that.
“Am I to believe there is a reason for your visit this morning?”
Nigel froze as those words left her lips. He had only started to think she would never ask. Now that she had, he had to state his purpose, did he not?
He took his time, swallowing. As he felt the warmth of the tea spread through his belly, he reminded himself once again that being a coward was not an option.
He could not hold her gaze, but he could feel her eyes upon him, expectant, mesmerizing. His throat suddenly felt too tight.
“Lord Kensington?”
A cough broke free and he rushed to cover his mouth. As he recovered, he cleared his throat and finally held her gaze.
His heart might as well jump out of his chest.
“Hm? Ah . . . yes. Of course. There is a reason.”
“Oh? Pray tell me then, what is it?”
I have decided I may want more than friendship after all.
“Nothing grave,” he heard himself say. “I simply wanted to see your face again. I had a meeting with some associates nearby, but it was cancelled. Since I was already in London and do not have other engagements until later in the afternoon, I thought it would be nice to spend the time with you.”
Nigel winced as he finished speaking. Ethan would have a good laugh if he ever heard about what had just happened.
It should not be so difficult, telling the truth. Yet it was.
Thankfully, she believed his words. This was evident in her crimson-stained cheeks.
She shifted in her seat, looking everywhere else but him.
“Lord Kensington, I do not know what to say.”
“You do not have to say anything.”
“Still, it is pleasing to know that you came simply because you wished to see me again. Also, that you believed I would be good company.”
“You are good company, Miss Hartford. You always have been.”
She turned to him then, holding his gaze. “I feel the same way about you,” she breathed. It was as good as a whisper.
To Nigel, it sounded like a confession of love. How amazing would it be for her to say those same words when he finally summoned the courage to tell her how he really felt?
“I’m glad,” was his simple response.
“What do you say we do to pass time? We could go see the garden . . . I could give you a tour, if you would like. We could also play a game of cards.”
“Not croquet?” he teased.
She broke into a giggle. “No, please. I fear I would frustrate you with how terrible I am.”
“Then a game of cards would do well. I also would like the tour if you are open to doing all.”
Her reply was swift. “Of course.”
They started with the tour, ending it in the garden. Then, they returned to the balcony for the game.
“Now, I must warn you, I would feel insulted if you let me win. So please, do your best. I will not be holding back either,” she said as she dealt the first hand.
Nigel could not resist jesting. “I do not think it would be fair game if I played my best, though. It will be over before we know it.”
He grinned when she narrowed her eyes at him. “I would have you know that not even my father and Lewis have been able to defeat me in years.”
“Perhaps they have been letting you win.”
“They have not!”
“Tsk, tsk . . . you cannot be so certain now, can you?”
“I have played with them all my life. I would know if they were holding back.”
Nigel was trying so hard not to laugh. He could tell she knew he was teasing her, and she was playing along, pretending to be flustered. He found her all the more adorable for that.
“If you insist. I will have you know though, my lady’s wish is my command. As you have asked me not to hold back, I have no other choice than to obey. Please, do not take it to heart when I win so mercilessly.”
She huffed. “I certainly will be here to see you nurse your injured pride after losing and no less, to a woman.”
Despite the fact that they were both jesting, he could see the challenge in her eyes. He knew she was intent on winning. Unable to run away from a good contest, he accepted it.
He would consider her a worthy opponent and play well. Then he would celebrate his victory with pride and take his loss, in the case that he did lose, like a man.
“Enough talk,” he said, still grinning. “Let us begin.”