Page 41 of The Earl’s Hoyden

They made their way to the dining room, where the table had been set with polished silver and an array of hothouse flowers. His seat was by Hannah’s, naturally, framed by the rest of the attendees. There would be no opportunity to speak alone. Yet the press of his inexcusable kiss was almost suffocating him.

“If I caused you offense on our last meeting, I truly do apologize,” he said in a low voice that others would not be likely to hear.

“There was no offense taken,” Hannah replied quietly.

He tried to read her expression, which was curiously blank despite her reddening cheeks. “This list…”

“It’s what I’m here for.” She smiled brightly at him. Perhaps too brightly. “To help you in your marital pursuits.”

He frowned. “What happened that night—”

“Can’t happen again,” she said quickly.

The swiftness of her reply confirmed his suspicions that his advances had been entirely unwelcome, and he had egregiously misread what lay between them.

“Forgive me my misstep.” He met her gaze, earnest to his soul. “I can assure you that it will not.”

Hannah gave a prim nod as the first course was served, a delicate white soup favored at most dinner parties but not much to his liking. Lifting her spoon, she said, “Discussing what you are eating is always a good topic of conversation.”

Lucien nodded and prepared himself for a night of careful instruction, though he suddenly found his role in the game tiresome. Through his lessons to become desirable among the ton, he realized it was not the material that enticed him but the tutor.

If nothing else, he would at least be equipped with the tools necessary to find a wife as the lady whose company he had come to enjoy continued to remain out of reach.

9

As the dinner party pressed on, Lucien was exceedingly aware that, despite Hannah’s protests he had not caused offense, he most assuredly had. Or at least, it was the only explanation he could summon for her incredibly cordial manner.

But it did not make him wish to escape her company. Rather, he wished they might be alone for him to apologize properly. A chance he was well aware would not be possible. The most he could hope for would be a private card game between them sometime later when they reconvened in the drawing room.

As their plates of marzipan cakes and sliced oranges were cleared away, Lord Westwich addressed them all. “At this time, I would invite the gentlemen to join me for port as the ladies retire to the drawing room.”

Hannah rose with the other ladies and departed, but not before casting one last, lingering look in his direction. It was the prolonged gaze that most confused him, for it was one of yearning and heartbreak. Granted, he was no expert on women, or he would never have needed her instruction in the first place. But recently, he had become exceedingly aware of the emotion and how it might affect someone viscerally.

Namely him.

And, as he’d once hoped, her as well.

“Lord Brightstone.” Lord Westwich settled at the open seat beside Lucien and waved a servant over with the port decanter. Lord Hasselton and Lord Whimbly were already discussing Napoleon’s recent imprisonment on Saint Helena, where the landscape was said to be less than hospitable.

“Tell me, what do you make of this Elgin Marble business?” Westwich said as the servant carefully poured a measure of rich red wine into first Lucien’s empty glass, then that of Lord Westwich.

The marble statues the baron referred to had been on the tongue of every member of Parliament since the season began. The marbles had been excavated from the Parthenon in Greece by the Earl of Elgin by somewhat questionable means.

“I believe we ought to await the evidence to ensure the items were procured honorably,” Lucien answered with his usual diplomatic decorum.

Westwich chuckled. “I believe you have stronger feelings than that. My daughter told me of your love for history.”

Lucien masked his surprise at this, but only just. He hadn’t expected Hannah to speak of him to her parents, let alone in praise.

“It’s true.” He set aside civility with his host for a more candid response. “If the marbles were obtained under false pretenses, it would be a travesty to Greek culture and a mark against England to have allowed such an atrocity to befall so sacred a place.”

Westwich nodded. “From what I understand, they have not been well cared for in the time they’ve been in Elgin’s ownership, moldering away in ill-kept storage.”

“Better to have left them where they belonged than subject them to such treatment.” Lucien sipped his port to keep from becoming too passionate on a topic he vehemently felt for. There was a certain laissez-faire attitude toward the history of other countries that crossed into pillaging, and he did not condone it in the least.

“Speaking of precious treasures…” Lord Westwich lifted a brow. “What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

The port slipped down Lucien’s throat wrong, caught with a startled inhale. He coughed, sputtering more than he would have liked when faced with such a question.