“I feel like our problem is that my parents are so used to you. They feel no rush to have us married when you are always around.”
The nervous energy he had felt building while watching her eyes light up crashed to the ground. This was not the type of plan he was hoping she would come up with. “You want me to stay away from you?”
“Well of course I don’t want you to stay away from me. But I wonder, if perhaps you did . . .” She blinked her eyes and then once again placed her hand on his. It was an innocent gesture, but it was the second time tonight she had done it. The gentle pressure of her hand brought him hope. Perhaps her plan might have some merit.
“I suppose I could visit my father in Brighton this month. I do have some business to arrange.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t mean like that. They would know you were busy.”
“If you don’t think I should leave, then what do you mean?”
“Stay here in London. I will too. We will attend all the events we usually do, only you will spend time with other women, and I will spend more time with other men.”
“You want to spend more time with other men?” Two years. He had spent two years courting Miss Morgan, and now she wanted to spend time with other men? Was he that tiresome?
“I already said that I don’t want to do this. I just think it is time we tried something different.”
“You want to be courted by another man?”
Her eyes got large, and again they were lit to a brightness beyond her typical bland expression. “Yes.” She tightened her grip on his hand as if to reassure him. “But not just me. You would also get to court other women.”
“I can’t just go around courting other women; they could take my intentions seriously.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t say it would be easy. I suppose you should try to find a woman who wouldn’t take you seriously. That is what I’m planning to do.”
This plan was growing worse by the minute. How was he supposed to know if a woman would take him seriously? Even the one woman he was serious about didn’t seem to care. “You have gone so far as to decide what type of man you are going to pursue?”
She leaned forward and raised her thin, faint eyebrows. “Not just the type of man. I know which man.”
A bitter taste invaded his mouth. Miss Morgan had never called him a man like that. With her voice low and her eyes sparkling.
“Who is it?”
“Lord Bryant.”
Anthony stood up from his chair so fast it fell to the floor. Every eye turned to him. He closed his eyes and forced himself to show no outward emotion. Pulling on his sleeves one at a time, he regained his composure. “Lord Bryant,” he hissed low enough that no one else would hear, “will ruin your reputation in a week.”
“Don’t you see? That is why it is perfect. My parents will worry so much about me, they will want to throw me back into your arms. And if you happen to be showing interest in another young lady,” she shrugged, “they won’t want to waste any time telling you how much they approve of you.”
Anthony rubbed his face with his hand. When he had told his father years ago that he would find a way to make him proud, even if it wasn’t by joining the army, he hadn’t realized he would need just as much stratagem as a general. But Miss Morgan truly was perfect. Her family had great social standing and wealth. She was just the type of woman his mother would have chosen for him. And the Scottish title was the final straw. He had searched all over London for a woman like Miss Morgan. He couldn’t give up on her now.
He bent over and picked up the chair that had fallen to the ground. Miss Morgan’s parents were looking at him with furrowed brows. He bowed an apology and then sat back down and leaned forward. As frustrating as it was, Miss Morgan’s plan did seem to make sense. No well-meaning parents would want their daughter dawdling about with the likes of Lord Bryant. He took a deep breath and pulled on his sleeves once again. His attire was in order—it always was. “When do you propose we execute this plan?”
“I happen to know that Lord Bryant will be at the Simpsons’ ball on Friday night. I will make certain to speak to him there.”
“And you think he will . . .” His face scrunched. How could he ask it? “. . . show interest in you?”
She lowered her pale lashes. “You know Lord Bryant. He is happy to converse with any pretty face. Do you not think me pretty enough to interest him?”
With her light golden hair and rosebud lips, she was petite and agreeable, but she didn’t exactly have the fire of most of the women he had seen Lord Bryant spend time with. But there was no way to explain that to the woman he was hoping to marry.
“Of course you are. That isn’t what I’m worried about.”
“You are worried he will fall hopelessly in love with me?” She giggled, and for the first time, he thought it wasn’t a very pleasant sound. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind that Lord Bryant, the notorious rake, would stop his wayward ways for the likes of Miss Morgan. But based on that giggle, it seemed the thought must have crossed hers.
“No, actually, I was just worried about finding a woman whom I can pretend to court without hurting.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. It won’t be for long. A few weeks at most.”
“A few weeks? I thought you said for the Simpsons’ ball.”
“One ball won’t be enough to convince my parents. I’ll let you know when they begin to grow worried; then you may start to show interest again. They will be happy to have you back. I’m sure of it.”
And in the meantime, she would be spending time with a detestable man that made her face light up like it never had with him. He checked his posture, rubbed his hands down each of his sleeves, looking for imagined dust, then gave Miss Morgan a nod. Her plan was sound. He was surprised at how sound it was, and truthfully, he wasn’t sure that property in Kent would have moved them forward that much. “Let’s proceed with your plan.”
She squealed and clapped her hands. It was the exact reaction he had been hoping for from her last night when he’d thought she was hiding behind the curtains. Who would have thought all he needed to make Miss Morgan this happy was to agree for both of them to pursue other partners?
Chapter 5
Anthony hung his head down on his desk. He had just finished going over the last of the numbers from his father’s estate in Essex. It had been gifted to his father after Bonaparte surrendered. Father spent a lot of time there but never actually cared to see how the income from the property affected their lifestyle. He only ever worried about the regiments under his command.