Theodore’s eyes narrowed to see Sanderson’s face light up when he realized Lauren was seated at the table. He wanted to stand and block the man’s path when he strode toward her.
With great effort, Theodore remained seated.
“Lady Lauren, how wonderful to discover you are an early riser like myself!” Sanderson lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to it, then took the chair on her opposite side while Theodore grit his teeth. George plopped down at the head of the table, a curious expression crossing his handsome face.
“A habit developed during my time away from society,” Lauren murmured, sipping her tea again. “Mornings have become my favorite time of the day.”
Theodore relaxed in his chair with a lazy grin. “Mornings often start with the best of surprises.”
Lauren’s eyes shot to his, and his lazy grin left no doubt he referred to the intrusion of her bedchamber earlier. Her mouth tightened, her cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink at the reminder.
“What are your plans for the day, Lady Lauren?” Sanderson inquired, touching her elbow.
“I’m not sure—” she began when Theodore interrupted, his voice coolly aloof.
“We are going ice skating.”
Sanderson blinked at his tone, and George’s brow rose slightly before Theodore’s apparent rival recovered.
“Ice skating? I say, that sounds like just the thing. What do you think, Settleton? We could all make an afternoon of it as I’m sure there are others who would enjoy the bracing winter air and an opportunity to exhibit their skills.” Sanderson exclaimed in excitement, “Yes, it’s a wonderful idea.”
If it’s so bloody wonderful, why does the idea of others around us annoy me? Theodore brooded as George shot him a covert glance before granting his approval of the plan.
Before Theodore knew what was happening, the quiet interlude with Lauren was completely taken over. While this turn of events irritated him beyond belief, Lauren seemed quite pleased.
The twinkle in her eyes was taken as a challenge he could not and would not ignore.
Under the clatter of breakfast dishes being set up by the servants, Theodore whispered in Lauren’s ear, “Be warned, sweetheart. The woods around that pond are full of mistletoe. You couldn’t drag me away with a team of horses now.”
Chapter 6
Lauren huddled closer to the circle of stones making up a rather large firepit. Several iron benches provided seating, and if one desired a mug of hot apple cider to warm their insides, a large vat of the beverage was kept warm in the coals.
Curling her gloved hands around the tin cup, Lauren smiled as she watched Penelope and George glide arm and arm. Her lovely cousin gazed at the viscount in obvious adoration, her laughter echoing across the open space with that of the other guests.
A tiny frisson of envy struck Lauren without warning. The unwelcome emotion was startling, but most confusing was why on earth her gaze unerringly sought out the Earl of Hawthorne.
He’d reluctantly left her behind after she refused his command to join him on the pond’s frozen surface. Now, he slid effortlessly over the ice, his forearm held tight by a simpering chit.
A second cousin to George, Lady Melanie Overton was blonde, willowy, and quite the flirt. Lauren had met her several times at various social functions. While cordial to one another, their interactions never progressed any further than that, and Penelope once confessed to Lauren her dislike for the girl.
Now, Lauren watched helplessly as Melanie stumbled and Theodore easily steadied her with an arm slipped around her waist. Pulling her tighter against his body, he said something that made the lady laugh. Then she turned slightly until it almost appeared as though they danced the waltz on steel blades.
Dropping her gaze, Lauren swallowed past the lump in her throat. Even with the warmth of the vessel in her hands and the heat of the flames from the firepit, she shivered.
“Shall I procure a blanket, Lady Lauren?” Lord Sanderson plopped down on the bench with an easygoing smile. Slipping the ice-skates from his feet, he set them aside.
“That would be very kind.” A few moments later, a thick, red woolen blanket lay draped about her shoulders.
“There. That should do the trick until you decide to venture onto the ice. The exertion warms the blood very quickly, I find.”
“I believe I shall return to the house once I’ve finished my cider.” Lauren gave him an apologetic smile, fighting the urge to stare in the direction of the pond when a peal of laughter rang out.
It sounded suspiciously like Lady Melanie Overton.
“Oh, that won’t do at all! You’ve not even taken a turn around the pond. Come, I’ll help you. You shan’t fall as long as you hold on to me,” Sanderson urged. “I’ll find you a pair of skates, and you’ll see it’s grand fun.”
Lauren said nothing. Taking another sip of cider, she dared a peek toward the pond and wished she hadn’t.
Coming toward them, Theodore and Melanie trudged through a thin layer of snow. Melanie was laughing with delight, cheeks pink with exertion while the earl oddly enough seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes were pools of icy blue when they slid over Lauren and Sanderson sitting so cozily together.
Finding an empty bench across from them, the pair sat down, Theodore’s long legs stretching almost obscenely in Lauren’s direction. She nearly winced as Melanie snuggled closer as if warming herself simply by hugging his arm.
“It’s dreadfully cold once you stop moving, isn’t it?” Melanie exclaimed, her teeth biting her bottom lip in a pretty gesture as she gazed up at Theodore.
“I was explaining to Lady Lauren, if she only took a turn, she would warm up nicely,” Sanderson offered. “I’m afraid she doesn’t believe me, however. Perhaps you can convince her, Lady Melanie. After all, you appear quite flushed.”
Melanie’s eyelashes fluttered as she acknowledged Lord Sanderson, and Lauren experienced the overwhelming urge to rip the feathery things out by their roots.
“Ice-skating may not be completely at fault,” she simpered, giving Theodore another besotted look before gracefully removing the skates from her dainty feet. “Lord Hawthorne believes I’m in danger of twisting an ankle, so we agreed I should rest for a moment.” By her tone, she had every expectation Theodore would rest along with her.
“This is a perfect opportunity!” Sanderson crowed, retrieving Melanie’s skates before Lauren could form a protest. Kneeling in front of her with the things in hand, he reached beneath her skirts.
With a low growl, Theodore rose to his feet. In two steps, he was towering over the other man.
“What the devil do you think you are doing, Sanderson? Get your blasted hands off of her.”
With a ruthless shove, Theodore knocked Sanderson away from Lauren and just as quickly took his place, unmindful of the damage the snow might do to his trousers. “If anyone will be touching these lovely ankles, it shall be myself alone,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“I say, Hawthorne, I am perfectly capable of helping Lady Lauren,” Sanderson stuttered in outraged surprise.
Theodore shot him a savage glare. “No.”
Just a single word. That was all. Nothing more, but it was enough for Sanderson to shrink back as though punched. Scrambling up, he took a seat beside Melanie, who looked infuriated to see her skates being placed on Lauren’s feet.