No.
She pulled herself back together. “Of course I like horses. They have their time and place.”
“That time and place is five in the morning, at break of dawn,” Jeremy said. “Don’t you agree, Thaddeus?”
“Ladies generally ride in the afternoon,” Thaddeus said. “I am not as enamored with the stables as you are.”
“You don’t need to be,” Jeremy said.
“Is your equestrian enthusiasm the result of sleeplessness?” Betsy asked.
Jeremy shrugged.
Thaddeus leaned down, sighted down the cue, banked a ball off two walls, and slammed it into the red ball, which pocketed.
Betsy swallowed. He could play. He could really play.
That was a sign she ought to marry him. Aunt Knowe had sent her to the billiard room last night for a reason. Was she a coward that panic flooded her entire body?
“He’s showing off,” Jeremy said, an edge to his voice. “It’s amazing what men will do when a beautiful woman is watching.”
Betsy felt her cheeks redden but she kept her eyes on the table. Jeremy thought she was beautiful? He’d never shown an iota of—
Not true. He had kissed her.
But kissing was a pastime.
Apparently, Jeremy had no wish to show off, because he missed the ball entirely on his turn.
“Oh, look at that,” he said flatly. “You’ll have to play Thaddeus.” He turned around and dropped into his usual chair.
Thaddeus caught her eye, and a glimmer of the worry she felt was reflected in his. “If you’ll forgive me, Lady Betsy—”
“Betsy,” she corrected him.
“Bess,” Jeremy put in. “You mustn’t confuse your wife with a nursemaid.”
They both swung about to stare at him.
“What?” he demanded. “I saw your first proposal, but presumably you can do better than that, Thaddeus.”
“My next attempt will be without an audience,” Thaddeus said.
Betsy felt herself growing even redder.
“A maidenly blush,” Jeremy said approvingly. “One might imagine you’d run out of those after all the proposals you’ve received. Englishwomen are endlessly inventive, one finds.”
“Endlessly patient, more like,” Betsy muttered under her breath, but he heard her.
“It’s not my fault that your suitors are bores,” he pointed out.
“I’d like to go for a drive,” Thaddeus said. “I need fresh air. Betsy, would you be so kind as to accompany me?”
Jeremy abruptly hoisted himself out of his chair. “Nice try, Thaddeus, but you’ll have to schedule your next proposal for some other time. Betsy and I have plans to visit Wilmslow.”
“We do?” Betsy asked. She felt as if her head were spinning. Jeremy wasn’t wrong. After spending a Season being proposed to, she knew the hidden language behind an invitation to go for a drive.
“We need to spy out the town,” Jeremy said.
It was Thaddeus’s turn to ask “Why?” His manner was polite but confused. And just a trifle, the smallest trifle, displeased.
Betsy turned to Thaddeus. “We have a prank in mind, a silly thing.”
“Perhaps we could make up a party,” Thaddeus suggested.
Betsy replied before Jeremy could make things worse. “Aunt Knowe just told me that you and your mother will stay with us for a few more days,” she said to Thaddeus. “Do you think that Her Grace would like to visit Wilmslow?”
Thaddeus’s mouth eased into a smile. “I believe it quite likely.”
“Excellent,” Betsy said, her heart thudding in her chest. By issuing an invitation to the duchess, she had as much as accepted Thaddeus’s hand in marriage. For the first time in her memory, she felt a degree of panic akin to Viola’s.
Jeremy walked out the door and said, without looking back, “Right, I’ll convey your invitation to Her Grace, Betsy. And I’ll see you both in the entry in an hour, mama in tow, Thaddeus.”
He strode away before Betsy had a chance to respond.
“He’s not himself,” Thaddeus said, touching her elbow to indicate that she should leave the room before him.
“Are you trying to bamboozle me into believing that Jeremy Roden was a courteous youngster?” Betsy asked, forcing herself to smile at Thaddeus.
The viscount drew the door closed and held out his arm, so he could escort her down the corridor. She slipped her hand around his elbow.
“Jeremy was always foul-mouthed and brilliant, an odd combination that made him the head of any classroom.”
“I didn’t imagine that students swore in front of professors,” Betsy remarked.
“Most learning in college is done outside of the classroom,” Thaddeus said. “In the debating societies, for instance. I think there is a reasonable argument to be made for the future of Britain being staked out in debates at Eton and nuanced in debates at Oxford and Cambridge.”
“I see,” Betsy said, wondering what the House of Commons did in that case, not to mention the king himself.
“Jeremy’s brittleness is new,” Thaddeus added.
“What you said at breakfast was marvelous,” Betsy said, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “I was about to scream at Lady Tallow and that would have done nothing to the purpose.”
“I spoke before you collected your thoughts, but I’m certain you would have been more eloquent than I.” His eyes were distinctly warm.
Damn it.
She had to make up her mind before he became more attached. But perhaps she’d already made up her mind? If so, she had to be honest with him. “Thaddeus, last night you asked for my hand in marriage.”
He drew her to a halt. “Dare I hope that you have changed your mind?”
“No,” she said hastily. “That is, not yet. Or—no.”
He smiled. “I understand.”
He did? Good for him, because she didn’t.
“I wanted to tell you that I present a duchess-worthy face to the world,” Betsy said, forcing herself to focus. “I am not truly as sweet as I appear. I may have the semblance of a duchess, but in truth, I am far more . . .”
She stopped, unable to explain.
“Wild without an E?” Thaddeus supplied. “I would expect no less. I think you to be honest, loyal, honorable, and intelligent. Those qualities are far more important to me than the fact you are both exquisite and have exquisite manners.”
Betsy cleared her throat. “Also I should add that there are those who believe that my mother was unfaithful to my father before I was born.”
He laughed. “You don’t believe that any more than I do, nor does any other person with common sense. You have your father’s eyebrows.” He touched her right eyebrow lightly. “You are beautiful, Betsy, but I admired your eyebrows first.”
“Goodness, why?” she asked, dumbfounded, barely stopping herself from touching her eyebrow herself. It arched, like any eyebrow.
“Yours is a mischievous eyebrow,” Thaddeus said. “That of a woman who will never settle for domestic peace but will be a true partner.”
Betsy swallowed. It was too late. She was too late. Somehow, he’d given his heart away before she noticed.