Her Sudden Groom (Groom Series, BOOK 1) Page 3
“Free of a contingency?”
“Of course. Although, I’d strongly suggest—Stop rolling your eyes, this is serious. You should probably start reading up on E. S. Wilson and his past articles. They’re all the rage in the world of biology just now.”
“All right, I’ll read them,” she agreed. “Now let’s start thinking of how we’re going to increase the membership. One new member is not enough.”
Suppressing a groan, Alex plopped down in a nearby chair. Caroline might enjoy coming up with ways to gain new members into the Society, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He needed to worry about finding a suitable bride, and soon.
Alex leaned his head back and closed his eyes, hoping it would help him think better to block out the lovely sight of Caroline.
After twenty minutes, he opened his eyes and glanced at her. She’d been writing nonstop since he’d sat down. “What are you writing?” he asked, resisting the urge to tease her about how the three sheets she’d scribbled across looked like the beginnings of a novel.
Her eyes looked up and held his gaze while the fingers of her left hand rubbed her right wrist. “Lists,” she said as if it explained everything.
“Lists?”
“Yes.” She picked up her papers and fanned them in front of him. “See, on this page I wrote our goal: increase membership of the Society of Biological Matters. But then on these, I’ve been coming up with ways to do that. Research, if you will.”
He blinked. She was taking this far too seriously. “Very well,” he croaked, ducking his head so she couldn’t see him smile at the absurdity of it all. Here he was trying to plan how to get a wife in the next few weeks, and she was dutifully jotting down all sorts of nonsense ways to increase membership into a society that didn’t lack members. Oh, the irony.
“Are you going to help me?” she prodded.
“How?” They were at cross purposes, and he’d rather brood about how to charm a young lady to be his wife rather than how to charm members.
She stared at him and twisted her lips in a way that shot straight to his groin, making him need to look away from her yet again. “I’m not going to do all of this for you,” she said, bringing his attention back to her.
“Right-o.” An idea came to him. “May I have a quill and paper, too?”
A smile that could light up the room took her lips. “Of course.” She reached over and grabbed a few sheets of parchment and a quill, then set them down and moved her chair to the left. “Actually, why don’t you sit by me? We’ve only one pot of ink.”
He strolled over to where she was sitting and sat in a chair positioned so close to her that every time she moved, her arm brushed his. Though the gesture wasn’t overly erotic, it certainly caught his attention and made his skin prickle with awareness.
Dipping his quill in the ink, he positioned it over his paper and froze. His plan was to write down a list of possible brides. He couldn’t do that sitting so close to her. If she looked over and saw his list, she’d ask why he was writing down only female members of the ton. Well, that was one reason he couldn’t make his list, and the other—probably the bigger problem—was he hadn’t a clue who to write down.
“Awfully busy over there, Alex,” she said after a few minutes. Her tone was light and he thought he glimpsed a little smile curving her lips.
“Sorry,” he muttered, frowning down at his paper. It was still blank except for an ink spot the size of a half-penny that had formed where his quill had been posed to write for the past ten minutes. “I can’t think of what to write.”
“You’re the one who asked for the paper. What had you thought to write?” She put her quill down and turned to look at him.
“Names,” he said evasively.
“Excellent idea! I’ve been thinking of ways to get members. I completely forgot who, specifically, we should be pursuing.”
“I don’t know, either,” he admitted.
“Clearly.” She tapped her finger on her lower lip in the most seductive way. “What about your friend, the Earl of Townson.”
Alex snorted. “I assure you, he’s not interested.”
“You never know until you ask.” She picked up her quill again and continued writing.
He shook his head. He didn’t have to ask—he already knew. Andrew, Lord Townson had as much interest in biology as Alex did in knitting, none. Actually, that wasn’t true. Andrew had an interest in biology. The procreation sort, that is. Andrew married Brooke, Alex’s cousin, only two years ago and they were already nearing the arrival of their second child. Hell’s afire, at the rate those two were going, they would fill up Rockhurst in no time. Perhaps he did need to speak to Andrew. His friend might benefit from a candid discussion about how to control breeding.
Alex dashed Andrew’s name on the paper. Not only would seeing his name on the parchment remind him to speak to his friend, it would also appease Caroline to see at least one name on the list.
“Thank goodness,” she mumbled. “You finally put a name down. Who is it?”
“Andrew.” He rested the quill on the edge of the ink pot.
“Who?”
“Andrew Black, Lord Townson.” He tipped one shoulder up in a lopsided shrug. “I took your suggestion. You never know what results you’ll get until you speak to someone.”
“Good. Now, come up with some other names.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I can’t.”
“And why not?”
“Everyone I know who is interested has already joined,” he said simply.
“Not everyone,” she muttered.
He sighed. “I said I was sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” She flashed him a queer look. “Let’s speak of it no more.”
“Agreed.”
He took a deep breath and nearly snapped his quill in half. Her hair smelled of lavender. He’d always claimed that scent could be a man’s undoing. And on her, he had no doubt it was truly possible. He inhaled again, letting the sweet aroma fill his nose. Perhaps his wife would smell good... He nearly snorted. He had only a month to find a wife. He didn’t have time to be too particular about what she smelled like. As long as she didn’t stink, she’d smell good enough for his purpose. Right now he just needed to think of one to pursue.
“Which ladies are you thinking of?” Caroline asked a few minutes later.
He froze. Did she know he was thinking of suitable brides? “Pardon?”
“Females who would like to join,” she explained. “Like me, surely there are others of the fairer sex who have been denied entry and would be delighted to join.”
She was onto something. “Good point. Do you know any ladies interested in science?”
“How should I know? You’re the one who denied them membership,” she said with a shrug. “Who are they?”
Tightening his hands into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, he said, “It was only you and your cousin I denied membership. No one else. Ever.”
“I see,” she said slowly. “I suppose I would have been allowed to join had Olivia not wanted to as well?”
“Probably.” He shot a rueful grin in her direction. “Guilty by association, I’m afraid.”
She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath he couldn’t make out. “All right. Enough said. What about Lady Almay and her daughter, Lady Lucinda? I’ve read they both enjoy visiting people’s gardens at parties and balls and such.”
“Yes, yes.” He grabbed his quill and jotted down their names. Lady Almay and Lady Lucinda did both enjoy exploring everyone’s gardens. For different reasons of course. Lady Almay enjoyed the greenery and Lady Lucinda enjoyed the gentlemen in the gardens.
He tapped his quill on the paper again, letting his thoughts wander. If Lady Almay did have a true biological and scientific interest like he believed, and Lady Lucinda a minor one, then wouldn’t that also mean the younger sister might as well? Not that it really mattered at this point. He had to find someone—anyone—to
marry, and if she liked science, it was only a boon. But it would help tremendously if she either liked science or had grown up hearing people talk of it. At least that way she’d know what to expect in a marriage with him. That’s what made Lady Lucinda and her sister so perfect—they’d both probably grown up hearing their mother discuss science.
He frowned down at the pen as he went to write Lady Lucinda’s sister’s name. What was her name? He was fairly certain it started with a C. But that was all he could remember. Was it Catherine? Caitlin? Christine? No, none of those seemed right. He looked at Caroline and shook his head. No, Lady Almay’s daughter wasn’t named Caroline, but she—the Caroline sitting next to him—would probably know. Dare he ask? No, better not. He wasn’t entirely certain of the age of Catherine, or Caitlin, or Christine, or whatever her name was, anyway. He suspected she’d be coming out this year, but he wasn’t positive and didn’t want to field questions from a curious Caroline.
Instead, he grabbed the quill and wrote a giant C then a few scribbles, followed by a T and a few more scribbles. That was close enough. He’d know who he was talking about.
He closed his eyes and listened to the clock on the wall ticking off the seconds mixed with the rhythmic scratches of Caroline’s quill. It was enough to put someone to sleep. So tranquil and quiet, with only a hint of soft noise. He rubbed his eyes. He needed to be thinking of possible brides, not the relaxing sounds of the room.
Closing his eyes tighter, he tried to dredge up pictures of last year’s left over debutantes. But not one image came to his mind. Instead, he could only picture Caroline. And not just because she was sitting next to him just now. He remembered the blue dress she’d worn the first time they’d met when she attended that Society meeting some four years ago and how it had matched her beautiful blue eyes perfectly.
Now that he thought about it, not a thing about her had changed. From the raven hair pinned in an elaborate coif that showcased its length and beautiful curls, to her alabaster skin that covered her dainty facial features, she was exactly as he remembered. When he’d first met her, he’d struggled, much like he did now, to stay attentive to his task. Her mere presence was far too distracting.
“You could ask Olivia,” Caroline said, shocking him to the core and putting an abrupt end to his pleasant thoughts. There was absolutely no way he was going to ask Lady Olivia to marry him.
“I don’t think so,” he said smoothly, trying to blink the image of Lady Olivia out of his mind.
“Probably just as well. She might drive all the members to leave. Then you’ll be worse off than you are now.”
“Exactly so,” he agreed, relaxing. She’d been talking about for membership into the Society, not for marriage. He needed to relax or he was going to give himself away. Furthermore, even for membership there was no way Lady Olivia’s name was ever going to join the roster.
Caroline laughed lightly, drawing his attention back to her. She was a pretty young lady, he had to admit. Why Marcus had left them alone together was beyond his comprehension. “I’ve written a treatise and you’ve written four words,” she said with a slight shake of her head.
“Sorry, I’m not quite finished.” He hoped they could leave it at that.
“It’s fine. Hmm, what about your cousins?”
He almost choked at her suggestion. His three cousins, Brooke, Madison, and Liberty hadn’t a speck of interest, neither did their husbands. “Not interested, I’m afraid.”
“Write them down,” she said, tapping his paper with the end of her quill. “You’re assuming they’re not interested. You must ask to know for sure.”
No, he was fairly certain those six were not interested in marriage to him. But to appease her once again, he wrote their names down.
“That’s a start.” She tucked a long, curly tendril of dark hair behind her right ear. “You’ve got nine names. However, you think six will not join. Which means you need to come up with more names.”
He wanted to groan. Of course he needed to come up with more names. Out of the nine he’d listed only two could be considered potential brides. And that potential hung by a thread. He’d never been good with the fairer sex. Never. They were either put off by his scientific interest, cowed by his intelligence, or were dismissive of him in general before even meeting him. On the few occasions he’d tried to become acquainted with a young lady, it had never ended well. For some reason he couldn’t explain or fathom, he was awful with unspoken responses. He had no idea how to read facial expressions or interpret “unspoken or implied messages” as his mother referred to it. Quite simply, if a person didn’t come out and say it, he had no idea what they wanted.
With gentlemen he could use the old friend routine. He’d call them old fellow or chum, or try to talk to them using ridiculous words or phrases. It had always worked for him at school and in Society. It made him more acceptable, it seemed. But he couldn’t talk that way to females. He couldn’t call them old fellow, or chums. Nor could he use simple language with them. It just didn’t work that way.
“It’s almost time for dinner,” Caroline told him. “Stay after and we’ll work on this some more.”
He was about to tell her he couldn’t when a light knocking sound came from the door. “Dinner’s almost ready,” Marcus boomed.
“Thank you, Marcus,” Caroline said breathlessly as she picked up the stack of heavy tomes she’d knocked to the floor. “We’ll be out in a minute. I’ve finished, but Alex hasn’t.”
“What?” Marcus roared. He opened the door a crack. “Caroline, out. Alex, don’t even think about leaving. I need to speak to you. I’ll be coming in that room in two minutes.”
Alex and Caroline exchanged looks. Alex had shared a room with Marcus at Eton for almost five years. During those five years, he’d never once heard Marcus raise his voice. Something was off.
Caroline put the books down and quietly left.
Exactly one hundred twenty seconds after his declaration, Marcus reentered the room. “I did not give you permission to seduce her,” he hissed.
Alex crossed his arms. “I didn’t.”
Marcus clenched his jaw. “Then what did you do?”
“We worked on science. See?” He went over and grabbed the stack of papers Caroline had abandoned in her hurry to depart the room.
Marcus blinked, then groaned and tossed the papers on the settee. “So you did,” he said dully, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Why?”
Now Alex blinked at him. “Because you suggested to her I could use her help with an experiment. Which, by the way, was more difficult to work on with her in the room.”
Leaning against the back of a chair for support, Marcus stared at him. “Do not tell me you told her.”
“I didn’t. I told her I needed to increase membership of the Society of Biological Matters.”
Marcus shook his head. “Of the two of you, I don’t know who is the more obtuse.”
“Her,” Alex said automatically. “She actually believed it and worked on ways to recruit people. I, on the other hand, came up with a list of names of possible brides.” He gave his list to Marcus.
“No, Alex.” Marcus scanned the parchment. “I think ‘Most Obtuse Man Who Ever Lived’ is the title you came into the moment you entered into the world.”
“What’s that to mean?” Alex tugged on his annoying cravat.
Marcus shrugged. “You’re far more obtuse than she is. Why are half these names of men?”
“Just look past those,” Alex said testily. “Oh, and my cousins, too. I had to put them on the list because Caroline thought I was compiling a list of possible Society members.”
“I hope that’s why Lady Almay’s name also made the list,” Marcus mused.
With a sigh, Alex ran his hand through his hair and gave it a tug before letting go. “It is,” he bit off. “But her two daughters are possibilities.”
“Lady Lucinda and Lady Ca—C something?” A smile tugged on Marcus’ scarred lips.
“Ah,” Marcus said, nodding in understanding. “I believe her name is Christina, but a recluse like me might be wrong.”
Alex grinned. Now he knew her name.
“Alex,” Marcus started again, “the reason I believe you to be the more obtuse of the two of you—and of everyone in England at that—is because you sat in this room for more than an hour and only came up with two names.” He limped over to the secretary, grabbed Caroline’s abandoned quill, and wrote something on Alex’s paper. “As for me, it took less than ten seconds to come up with the perfect person. Someone you didn’t even have on your list.” He handed the paper back to Alex and walked from the room.
Not wanting to appear too impatient, Alex waited until he was sure Marcus was down the hall before looking at the list. After he read it, he blinked and read over the paper again.
Andrew
Lady Almay
Lady Lucinda Almay
Lady Cmmmtmmm Almay
Brooke
Benjamin
Madison
Paul
Liberty
Caroline Sinclair
Chapter 4
Caroline nearly flew up the stairs. She had no idea why Marcus was so upset. She’d have to puzzle it out later. For now, she needed to contend with Olivia, who was caterwauling so loud Caroline could hear her from where she stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“What’s happening in here?” Caroline demanded as she swung open the heavy oak door to Olivia’s room.
“She is useless,” Olivia screamed, pointing at Nettie, her maid.
Pity for Nettie quickly built in Caroline’s heart. “What’s wrong?” she asked of no one in particular.
“She has absolutely no fashion sense. And she won’t do as I’ve instructed, besides,” Olivia said, raising her chin a notch.
Caroline looked over to Nettie. The maid was white as chalk. Next to her sat Emma Green, a longtime family friend. Emma, who had golden blonde hair and green eyes, was nonchalantly scratching her nose, a signal they’d made up to tell the other one when Olivia was lying.