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“I’m happy to call on you there. Will you be receiving next week?”
Tricia had not given it much thought. She didn’t want to receive any male visitors. She was here on the estate with the object of her affection, Thomas. She was hoping to catch his attention at some point, and she certainly didn’t need other men around.
On the other end, however, what could it hurt? Why not keep her options open?
The Polk estate wasn’t worth nearly as much as the Ashford Estate, and Victor was a third son, but surely he received a sizeable allowance that would enable them to live a lovely life together.
But that wasn’t the true reason she was considering this. Not at all. She had no interest in Lord Polk.
She was interested only in Thomas. But would it hurt to have Thomas think there were other men who sought her affections?
A smile began to edge onto her lips. “You may call upon me, my lord. I should be honored.”
“It is I who should be honored,” he said with a bow. Then he stepped closer to Tricia.
She stepped backward. “I do believe we should return to the ballroom.” She glanced around, her nerves skittering. All the servants who had been in the foyer were now gone. No one was here. Only she and Polk and a few lit torches. At least they were not in total darkness.
“Could I interest you in a stroll?” he asked.
Tricia swallowed and looked to the floor. “I should need a chaperone, my lord.”
“Not for a mere stroll around the garden,” he said. “I should take you no farther than the balcony.”
She had no interest in a walk with Lord Pork, but she was dreadfully hot in her ensemble. Why did it have to be so damned uncomfortable to be a lady? The corset alone was so constricting. And the rest of her ensemble was just stifling.
“I suppose it would be all right,” she said, “but only for a few moments. My mother will miss me. And of course my brother, the earl, certainly wouldn’t want to see me alone outside with a gentleman.”
“I’m sure your brother would force me into marriage if he saw us together outside,” Lord Polk said. “I have not yet chosen my bride, not that you’re not high in the running. But I would not ask this of you if it were impertinent in any way. You must know that, my lady.”
Tricia nodded. She allowed Lord Polk to escort her out of the foyer and forward to one of the balconies. The March air was slightly brisk, but it felt good on her flesh, what little of it was exposed. She breathed in—as far as she could with her corset so tight—and enjoyed the feel of the crisp evening air.
The flowers were beginning to bloom, and their sweet floral scent infused itself into her lungs as she breathed. So much more enjoyable than the air in London, which was always thick with refuse and waste.
“You do look lovely in the moonlight, my lady.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Lord Polk regarded Tricia’s face with admiration shining in his gaze. “Your blue eyes sparkle as if infused with the very stars of the midnight sky.”
It wasn’t quite midnight, was it? These balls were known to go on until the wee hours of the morning. Tricia had been so excited for her first ball, and she wasn’t the slightest bit fatigued.
She wasn’t sure how to respond to Lord Polk’s words. She still knew so very little about being a lady of society. Her sister-in-law, Rose, had educated her, but Tricia had been a bit inattentive in her lessons. She both loved and hated the idea of the season. If only she could enjoy the parties, elegance, and festivities of the season without dressing in such restrictive clothing. She did enjoy how she appeared in the looking glass, but before her ascent into society, she wore mostly peasant dresses, and she looked just as pretty in them while still being able to draw in a deep breath.
“You are the most beautiful woman here,” Lord Polk said.
Now she was growing anxious. “Lord Polk, I believe I should like to return to the ball anon.”
“Yes, of course, my lady.” But he made no move to leave the balcony. Instead, he reached for her gloved hand, and then he pulled her to him, trailing his fingers up her arm to cuff her cheek. “I do so admire your beauty and your charm.”
Tricia tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. He was too close to her. She was exceedingly uncomfortable, and she didn’t know what to do. Surely someone else would come to the balcony. It was only a matter of time.
“My lady...” And then, as if time had slowed down to a snail’s pace, Lord Polk leaned closer, closer, closer...until his lips brushed lightly over hers.
Tricia stepped backward quickly, and before she knew what was happening, her hand had come out and she slapped Lord Polk on his left cheek.
Polk scowled and closed his hands into fists. “Why, you little?—”
“You’d best not finish that sentence, Polk,” a deep voice said.
