Whispers of the Heart by Rose Pearson

Chapter Seven

It took all of Geoffrey’s strength not to go immediately to Miss Whyte and demand to know how she had managed to become acquainted with Lord Hyndford. Instead, he forced himself to linger where he was, standing by the fireplace with what he hoped was a calm and nonchalant expression, although he could do nothing else but take in every single thing about Miss Whyte.

“Miss Whyte.”

She lifted her chin and held his gaze, her grey eyes shimmering although he could not tell what she felt save for the knowledge that she must still be deeply upset with him.

“Good evening, Lord Ware.”

She said nothing more but turned her face away and walked to the opposite side of the room, her back now to him. A small, wry smile touched Geoffrey’s lips as he watched her, finding himself unable to lift his gaze from her. Even though he knew she thought him to be one of the very worst sort of gentleman, he could not help but find that same, overwhelming desire to draw close to her. No doubt if he attempted to do so, she would thrust him away with a few sharp words. It was everything he deserved and more.

This is what you wanted,he reminded himself, firmly. You wanted her to be kept far from you, out of your thoughts and your interests. You wanted to fix your intentions solely on the other matters at hand and, by your own foolishness, you have managed to cast Miss Whyte as far from you as can be.

Geoffrey sighed inwardly, his gaze still on the lady. The gown she wore was decorated with intricate lace and sparkling beads that caught his eye with every small movement she made. The way her golden curls fell from the twist high on the back of her head to her shoulders drew attention to her comely figure and Geoffrey felt a sudden flush of awareness as she turned her head to glance at him.

“You are very lovely.”

The words were pulled from him before he had a chance to even consider what it was that he wished to say, leaving Geoffrey staring, wide-eyed at Miss Whyte. He had not meant to utter those words aloud, had not meant to say anything of the sort to her and yet now, he felt what he had said hanging over him like a cloud. Miss Whyte’s eyes flared with surprise but, after only a few moments, she blinked rapidly and then shrugged one shoulder delicately, turning herself back around to face him a little more.

“You may think that you can soften my anger and upset by a few compliments, Lord Ware, but I will tell you now that I am not in the least bit influenced by them,” she told him, her eyes flashing now. “I am not so easily taken in.”

Geoffrey shook his head, holding up both hands in defense of himself.

“Miss Whyte, I am not attempting to do such a thing.”

“No?” She arched one eyebrow, her expression one of disbelief. “Then what, might I ask, is it that you are intending to do?”

“I could not help but remark upon your beauty, Miss Whyte,” Geoffrey found himself saying, a knot of tension settling in his stomach as he attempted to speak with clarity and found himself failing to do so. “Forgive me, I…”

“That is the only thing you think of saying to me?” she interrupted, speaking with more fire in her voice than he had expected. “After all that has occurred between us – or, in fact, all that has not taken place – you think only to throw a few compliments my way?” She glared at him, her cheeks filling with color. “Lord Ware, can you not understand just how I might be feeling at this present moment?”

There came to Geoffrey’s mind every hurried excuse he might give, everything he might say to answer her question in a sincere yet careful way, only to see – much to his horror – tears glistening in Miss Whyte’s silver eyes. His heart thumped furiously against his chest, guilt threatened to suffocate him entirely and he could only drop his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He had been so caught up in thinking of Lord Hyndford, of what he might learn about him from Miss Whyte, that he had pushed the consequences of his recent actions to the very back of his mind. Now he could see just how Miss Whyte was feeling and, in seeing her tears, felt the weight of his culpability throw itself back on his shoulders once more.

“Miss Whyte.” Geoffrey took a few steps closer to her, glad when she did not retreat. “I have nothing to offer you but my sincere apology.” Seeing her lips twist, he shook his head. “I know that it will mean nothing to you, given that I have already apologized to you once before and promised to make amends, only to fail in exactly the same way for the second time.” Lifting his gaze to hers, he saw her blink quickly, pressing the tears away, and felt his heart tear with shame. “I was selfish, thoughtless and forgetful,” he told her. “I was distracted by another matter – on both occasions, in fact – and thus quite forgot my promises to you.”

Miss Whyte closed her eyes for a few moments, drawing in a long breath which seemed to Geoffrey to be a little shaky.

“You forgot me,” she said, simply. “Not once, but twice.” Her eyes opened. “I can only imagine it is because I mean so little to you that I am easily set aside. You may think well of my brother, may have agreed to do whatever you could to assist him, but that does not mean that there is any true consideration given to myself. I should not expect it, I suppose, but to have forgotten your dance with me on not one, but two occasions has injured me severely, Lord Ware.” Her eyes were steady now and she spoke with great earnestness, each word seeming to come from her heart. “I shall not ask you to make amends, Lord Ware. You have been eager to push me towards Lord Silverton and I am sure that, very soon, I will be gone from your house and wed to some very suitable gentleman.”

This, much to Geoffrey’s surprise, was spoken with a harshness that did not fit her words. There appeared to be no joy in them, no happiness nor even a hint of genuine delight at the thought. Rather, it was as though she was resigning herself to the fact that she would have to do so, simply to step out of Geoffrey’s house and no longer be a burden to him.

“I would not have you marry anyone you did not wish to, Miss Whyte.” Before he could stop himself, Geoffrey reached out and grasped Miss Whyte’s hand, seeing how her eyes flared with surprise as he did so. He could not help it, could not resist the urge to speak with an openness and vulnerability which seemed to force itself out of his own heart. “Pray, do not misunderstand me, Miss Whyte. I do not want you to depart from this house. I do not want you to wed the first suitable gentleman who considers you, not if it is not within your heart to do so. I am glad that you are here.” He continued speaking with forcefulness, his words emphasized heavily so that she could not mistake his meaning. “I want you to stay for as long as you wish, Miss Whyte, for as long as it takes for you to find a suitable and happy match. Whether that be this summer or next, I would not push you into matrimony simply for my own comforts and I can only apologize profusely for ever giving you that impression.”

Silence followed his somewhat breathless declaration and Geoffrey felt the air around him crackle as he looked down into Miss Whyte’s face and saw the astonishment in her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide and bewilderment still lingering in her expression, but Geoffrey did not care. At least he had told her all that he had felt was required. He did not want her to marry just anyone and certainly not Lord Silverton, for to know that she was wed to his friend was something that Geoffrey was not certain he would like.

That is because you want her for yourself.

The thought was fleeting but it came with such force that Geoffrey caught his breath, his hand suddenly grasping Miss Whyte’s rather more tightly than before. Miss Whyte let out a quiet exclamation, but Geoffrey did not release her, closing his eyes for a moment so that he might get his breath. That was not something that he had ever allowed himself even to consider, for marriage was something he had pushed far from himself, despite the fact that his mother continually mentioned it to encourage him towards it. It could not be that he wanted Miss Whyte for his own! Yes, there was an attraction there and certainly, Geoffrey was doing all he could to fight his interest in the lady, but to think of having her as his bride, as his wife… that was something that he could not quite take in.

“Lord Ware.” Miss Whyte’s voice was thin and a little uneven, forcing Geoffrey back to the present and realizing just how tightly he was now holding her hand. With a mutter of apology, he released her and took a step back, dropping his head a little so that he would not have to look into her eyes. “Lord Ware, is that all quite true?”

Geoffrey forced his gaze up towards her and looked into Miss Whyte’s eyes, seeing how she looked back at him in wonder, as though she could not quite trust what he was saying.

“Yes, Miss Whyte,” he said heavily, wishing that he had been more cautious in his explanation to her. “That is all from my heart.”

Miss Whyte closed her eyes, let out a long breath of relief and then smiled up at him, making Geoffrey’s heart squeeze in a way he had never felt it do before.

“I do not know what to say,” she said, a brightness in her expression that had been entirely absent since the very first day she had stepped into his house. “If it is as you say and you have no eagerness for me to wed so that I might be gone from your house, then I am very much relieved.” She tipped her head to one side just a fraction, still studying him closely. “If I do not find a suitor this Season, you say that I could return next Season also?”

“And even for the little Season in the autumn, if you wish it,” he answered quickly, as the thought of being apart from her for so long suddenly caught him, making him realize just how he would feel with her gone. “Miss Whyte, there is no hurry. Pray, do not allow my foolish words to have influenced you unduly.” He spread his hands, his lips finally curving into a rueful smile. “I am naught but a fool, as you might well have ascertained by now. I can do nothing but wrong, can only injure and upset those around me. I must beg your forgiveness for what is now the third or fourth time, I think!” Shaking his head, he took another small step closer, seeing the way that she looked up into his face. Swallowing hard and telling himself firmly to remain entirely gentlemanlike, he inclined his head towards her. “Miss Whyte, I will not offer to dance with you again for fear that I will only do wrong for the third time. But I will swear to you now that, at the next ball, my intention is to seek you out, just as any other gentleman might, and to write my name down on your dance card so that I might, finally, do as I have always promised.”

It took a few moments for Miss Whyte to reply but, when she did, it was with a happiness in her voice and expression which filled Geoffrey’s heart.

“I believe that I would be glad for you to do so, Lord Ware,” she said, softly. “I am grateful to you for your explanation and your apology, for it means more to me than I can express to have you speak with such openness and honesty.” A quiet laugh broke through the stillness in the room. “In truth, Lord Ware, I am relieved to know that I have no need to rush from your house to the church to wed any particular gentleman. I know that my brother is eager for me to wed.” Her face fell and she looked away. “That comes from his desire to know that I am well looked after, that I am cared for… but still, there is no eagerness within my own heart to do so with any haste.”

“It would be unwise to enter into any such state with any sort of haste,” he agreed, astonished to discover how relieved he was to hear her speak in such a way. “Miss Whyte, I do hope that this will bring about a new… contentment in our acquaintance.”

Her eyes softened and she smiled up at him, reaching out to press his hand for just a moment.

“I am certain it shall, Lord Ware,” she said quietly, as Geoffrey felt sparks fly all through him at her touch. “I thank you.”

* * *

“You area little distracted this evening, Lord Ware.”

Geoffrey lifted one eyebrow, looking across at Lord Hyndford who was grinning broadly, his eyes dancing.

“I do not know what you mean.”

“There is something about Miss Whyte which has captured you utterly,” Lord Hyndford said, nonchalantly. “I do not know what it is, but I am certain that it is she who has caught your attention.”

Pausing, Geoffrey considered what he was to say by way of explanation, his mind hurrying through the various excuses he might give, only for him to decide that he would give the fellow the truth.

“As you know, given my foolishness and my conversation this afternoon, I have injured Miss Whyte grievously,” he said, without hesitation. “My mother is chaperoning her and thus, I stated that I would take the first dance of her very first ball.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “That sort of thing is of great importance to a young lady, I hear.”

“But you did not?”

Geoffrey winced, shaking his head.

“I quite forgot and permitted myself to become distracted,” he said, seeing Lord Hyndford scowl, evidently feeling for Miss Whyte. “What made it all the worse was, after my apology and my promise to make amends, I then did precisely the same thing at the next ball!”

“No!” Lord Hyndford exclaimed, his eyes rounding.

Geoffrey nodded, feeling a great deal of embarrassment but telling himself that it was for good reason. This would increase the intimacy of their acquaintance and, given that he was attempting to have Lord Hyndford tell him about the meeting of like-minded gentlemen as regarded the French war, he had to do so as quickly as possible.

“Indeed, I did,” he stated, dropping his head, and running one hand over his eyes to express the deep regret he truly did feel. “Again, I permitted myself to become distracted and quite forgot about my intentions, my promises and Miss Whyte herself.”

Lord Hyndford twisted his head around to where Miss Whyte now stood, conversing with another young lady whom Geoffrey did not know.

“I confess that I am astonished that a gentleman could so easily forget a creature such as Miss Whyte,” he said, turning his head back to look at Geoffrey directly. “She is residing in your home at present, you say?”

Geoffrey nodded, noting Lord Hyndford’s obvious interest in Miss Whyte and feeling a note of warning chime in his heart.

“She is,” he stated. “Her brother is still part of the King’s forces and thus begged me to persuade my mother to take in his sister so that she might enjoy a Season in his absence.” He shrugged. “I had no reason not to do so.”

“What a pity he is not here himself,” Lord Hyndford replied, a morose expression coming into his face. “I am certain he must miss her a great deal.”

Geoffrey nodded.

“And she him,” he replied, wondering how he might mention the war in a manner that would express dissatisfaction with the current state of affairs. “I am certain that she would prefer it if he returned home.” He grimaced. “After all, he does have particular responsibilities, given his title.”

“Much like you do,” Lord Hyndford replied, sending a sidelong glance towards Geoffrey. “You were involved in the war effort, I believe.”

Shrugging in a careless manner, Geoffrey rolled his eyes.

“I was, for a short while,” he agreed. “But I am no longer. There is much to do here in England, apparently, but I am tired of it all. Indeed, if I were entirely honest, I would state that I was no longer convinced of the validity of this particular course of action!” Lord Hyndford said nothing although Geoffrey was certain he saw a gleam in the man’s eye. “But that is a little dangerous to say, so I shall not furnish my explanations further,” Geoffrey finished, with what he hoped was a wry laugh. “The war continues, and I shall pray that it is ended one way or the other, so that those like Viscount Brigstock will be able to return to England and to their responsibilities.”

“That is an admirable sentiment, certainly,” Lord Hyndford replied, giving nothing away. “And one I am sure a good many of the ton share.”

Geoffrey smiled.

“I hope so,” he replied, quietly, his eyes now lingering on Miss Whyte.

There came a few moments of silence and then, just as Geoffrey was thinking of just how much Miss Whyte’s eyes expressed of her inner feelings, he heard Lord Hyndford laugh.

“Good gracious, Lord Ware! You cannot keep your eyes from the lady! Tell me, are you seeking to court her?” It was a very bold question – especially from one who did not yet know Geoffrey particularly well – and the surprise must have shown on Geoffrey’s face, for almost immediately, Lord Hyndford held up both hands, palms out towards Geoffrey. “I do not mean to offend, but it would be good for a gentleman to know such things,” he said, quickly attempting to explain himself. “That is to say, if the lady is soon to become engaged, then it would be better for someone such as myself to know of it so that one does not make a grave error in judgment!” He grinned and dropped his hands. “I should not like to transgress.”

Quickly realizing what the gentleman meant, Geoffrey tried to smile and shake his head, but found both actions rather difficult. Indeed, to express to Lord Hyndford that he was not courting Miss Whyte and nor did he have any intention of doing so was one thing, but to know that, by doing so he would encourage Lord Hyndford to then pursue her was quite another. He did not want Miss Whyte to be at all involved with the fellow and yet, it seemed he had no choice.

“Miss Whyte is the sister of my dear friend and that is all she is to me,” he answered, although without quite as much alacrity as he might have wished. “Although I will state that I am certain another gentleman may also be considering such a thing as regards Miss Whyte.”

He saw Lord Hyndford’s brows lift and silently prayed that Lord Silverton might make his interest known to the lady before Lord Hyndford did any such thing. There was still a chance that he would be accepted by Miss Whyte and, whilst that did not sit particularly well with Geoffrey – for he did not want Miss Whyte to consider anyone at present, were he honest – it would certainly be better than Lord Hyndford! After all, he was the fellow that Lord Stratham knew for certain was sympathetic to the French and, to have such a treacherous fellow even near to Miss Whyte was difficult enough!

“That is interesting,” Lord Hyndford mused, doing a half turn so that he might look at Miss Whyte more openly. “Thank you for telling me such a thing, Lord Ware. I shall make certain to move more quickly!”

He grinned, slapped Geoffrey on the shoulder as though they were old, dear friends and immediately made his way towards Miss Whyte. Geoffrey stared after him, horror growing in his heart. This was not what he had intended, for he had been hoping to discourage Lord Hyndford by making it plain that Miss Whyte had more than one gentleman interested in courting her, but it seemed that, instead, he had only hurried the gentleman along!

Miss Whyte’s gaze turned towards Lord Hyndford and Geoffrey felt his heart sink as she smiled warmly at him. This was a disastrous situation and, yet again, it appeared to be of his own making.

She may yet refuse him,he told himself, sternly. Did she not say only a few hours ago that she was relieved there would be no urgency with any sort of courtship or engagement? He nodded to himself, his brow furrowing hard. Then despite Lord Hyndford’s intentions, Miss Whyte might well foil them by her own decisions! There is naught for you to concern yourself with.

This did not fully satisfy Geoffrey however, but it did remove some of the tension from his limbs. Forcing a look of calm onto his face, he turned around sharply so that he would not have to see Miss Whyte and Lord Hyndford talking together. At least he had made a little progress as regarded Lord Hyndford’s company and his connections. Geoffrey had to hope that all he had said would soon come to fruition and that the gentleman might soon be shown to the ton as he truly was. That, he was certain, would push Miss Whyte far from the gentleman as she ever could be. Geoffrey just had to pray that it would not take too long, for the last thing he wanted was for Miss Whyte to be injured.

She had come to mean far more to him than he had ever expected, and Geoffrey had a strong inclination now to protect her… whatever the cost.