A Gentleman to Avoid: Sweet Regency Romance (Sherton Sisters Book 3) Page 3

  She was practically hissing by the time she got to the end of her declaration but suddenly stopped, flushed to the roots of her pretty blonde hair that was covered by a bonnet of some fashion. Blinking rapidly, she appeared to collect herself before looking past him and smiling.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Chorley, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

  “Good afternoon, Lady Vigilia, you are looking as pretty as a picture on this fine afternoon. Mr. Northcott, how do you do?”

  Ash gritted his teeth over the interruption. He felt as though he had discovered the potential source of his difficulties with Lady Vigilia but was now unable to pursue getting to the root of the matter. He would now have to make polite conversation with the talkative viscountess.

  He was correct in his assumption. Once Lady Chorley excused herself, Lady Vigilia became a chattering magpie, barely allowing him to insert any words of his own, as though nervously trying to prevent him from commenting on their previous conversation.

  “Perhaps, we ought to stroll for a while,” she prompted, rather rudely in his estimation. Was it not his place to make such a suggestion? Once he helped her down from the high vehicle, he quickly saw why she had made the alteration to their drive. She was all the better able to interact with anyone else but him, as they were able to encounter more people strolling through the park. He found her tactics amusing in a certain way. If only they weren’t also terribly frustrating.

  “I really ought to be returning home,” she suddenly said. “Well, not home, of course, but to Crossley’s townhouse,” she added with a nervous sounding giggle.

  It was unusual to see the easy going, normally poised young woman acting like a nervous debutante. Ash wondered if it was a good sign or a bad one. Perhaps, he ought to discuss the girl with her hostess. But a part of him balked at the idea of discussing the woman with anyone. Not only did he hate the thought of confiding in someone, but he also didn’t want to admit to having less than the utmost success in his pursuit. But Lady Crossley could probably give him some useful advice on the matter, he reminded himself.

  “Will you be at the Smythe rout this evening?” he was able to finally ask as he was handing her down in front of the townhouse moments later. He had been forced to take advantage of her finally stopping for breath. She blushed as though realizing that he knew what she had been doing.

  “I do believe we are promised there,” she finally answered after a brief hesitation.

  When a servant hurried forward to take control of his horses so he could escort her inside, the lady waved him away.

  “Don’t bother keeping your horses standing on my account. I am perfectly fine making my own way into the house. Thank you for getting me out into the fresh air, Mr. Northcott. Perhaps, I shall see you later this evening.” With those dismissive words and barely a glance in his direction, she hurried up the stairs and through the door conveniently held open by an attentive servant.

  Ashford watched her disappear, amusement chasing away his irritation. He couldn’t even explain who he was irritated with. The girl for being less than receptive to his attentions, or himself for continuing said attentions. With a slight shake of his head and a twitch of the reins, he urged his team of horses into motion.

  Chapter Three

  Vicky willed herself not to glance back at Mr. Ashford Northcott. She always called him both names in her head. For one thing, since he was one of five, the same as her, just calling him Mr. Northcott wouldn’t be sufficient to differentiate him from three of his brothers. Of course, the eldest brother, being heir to the Earl of Everleigh, had a courtesy title and was Lord something or other that she couldn’t recall just at the moment in her agitated state.

  If only the man wasn’t still fixated on her sister. The Sherton sisters had met Mr. Ashford Northcott during that last fateful Season before Georgia, Bel, and Hil had gotten married. Before Grandmother Sherton had passed on, and before Baby Augustus was born. It felt as though it were another lifetime, but it was, in fact, not even two years ago. But it would seem the man hadn’t quite recovered from his tendre for Rosabel. He had tried courting Bel while she was already entangled with Wexford. Vicky had been surprised by the man’s interest in Rosabel, to be honest. He seemed far too open and forthright to be interested in the prim and self-contained Diamond that Bel had become as a debutante. But there you have it. There was no accounting for taste. Just look at her, nursing a tendre for a gentleman who was obviously interested in her happily married sister. It was most disheartening.

  The fact that he was still in love with Rosabel was actually repulsive to Vicky. At least to her mind. But her ridiculous heart insisted upon increasing its pace in the most ridiculous fashion whenever the handsome man came into her vicinity. It truly made her question her own sanity. She couldn’t abide the thought of a man pursuing a married woman. And her sister at that. Thus, her terribly complicated reactions to the gentleman’s frequent calls upon her and Georgia.

  His conversations were always most pleasant, and he could almost always make her laugh, even though she was determined not to be amused by a rake such as him. And of course, there was the fact that his dark, wavy hair, gray eyes, and firm, solid chin and jaw made her want to stare at him for at least the next decade. On the other hand, she could hardly bear to look at him whenever she remembered that he was still pining after her sister. How could she even consider such a misalliance? It would surely be a recipe for a disastrous life.

  And now, Georgia had gone and invited the dratted man to the house party. Vicky was already afraid she was being less than grateful for her best friend’s hospitality. How could she tell her how she felt about Ashford Northcott? Besides the fact that she’d already issued the invitation to the man, there was no way that could reasonably be undone.

  Vicky, pondering her concerns as she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber to leave off her outerwear, reminded herself with a mental shrug that she had already accepted that she wouldn’t find her match this Season. She had already proven to herself that she could bear anything for a short period of time. However long Ashford Northcott was at the house party, while it might feel interminable, that too would pass by, and then she could enjoy the rest of her visit with Georgia until she returned home to Glendale. Then, one of her older sisters would surely be ready to chaperone her next year.

  She sighed heavily. She truly didn’t want to wait another year.

  “What’s troubling my lady?”

  Vicky started and then laughed, surprised to find her maid waiting for her.

  “My continued unwed state, to be perfectly honest. Have you heard? Parliament has closed suddenly, and we are to leave Town shortly. It seems I have failed once more.”

  “Tut tut, now my dear lady,” the older servant chided, making Vicky feel momentarily as though she were with her governess rather than her personal servant. The brief sensation made her grin as the maid continued. “Seems to me, it’s the gents who’ve failed you, certainly not the other way around.”

  “I sincerely appreciate your loyalty, Dolly, but either way, I haven’t made a match, and now the Season is to end, sooner than expected.”

  “From what I’ve heard, there’s still several weeks yet. Some here in Town, and some more at his lordship’s fancy estate. Surely, you haven’t given up.”

  Vicky laughed over the servant’s dramatic, perhaps feigned, shock.

  “You should know that a Sherton never gives up. Recent family events give rather strong evidence in that regard. But perhaps, a strategic retreat for a time might be in order.”

  The servant looked puzzled over her words for a moment but then shook her head firmly. “Seems to me that five weeks is surely sufficient for one such as you. Your sisters matched just that fast, once they finally put their minds to it. Surely, you are far and away smarter, nicer, and prettier than either of them.”

  “Now you’re being silly, but I do appreciate your point. What you’re saying is, with five or so weeks left, a retreat wo
uld be premature.”

  The maid nodded even though her expression wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “Seems to me, you need to put your mind to considering just who the countess ought to put on her list of guests.”

  Vicky laughed and squeezed the servant’s hand tightly. “You are completely right, Dolly. What would I do without you? I will start contemplating it tonight at the rout.”

  “Why wait? You surely know everyone who could possibly be invited.”

  Vicky paced around the room in agitation. The servant was right. But it was the same old problem. During her first Season, her heart had decided to go in one direction while her mind had chosen another. But as she had told her sister two years ago, truly, as long as a man treated his servants and animals well, he would probably make an acceptable husband. She shouldn’t be so picky. She could ignore her heart.

  But she feared ending up like Ashford Northcott, pining for someone not her mate. It had been so much easier to envision a convenient alliance until she met him.

  There was a knock on the door scant seconds before Georgia’s head appeared around the door.

  “Oh good, you’re back,” she said rather redundantly as she strode into the room and threw herself upon Vicky’s bed. “Crossley said Parliament is likely to be recalled, so we ought to plan our house party as quickly as possible. I’ve always wanted to see the estate in May, so I’m actually rather excited about this. And if it’s recalled for the summer, then I’ll still be able to come back to Town with you, as I shouldn’t be too obviously showing by then.”

  “Georgia Horton Crossley,” Vicky began in a stern tone. “You needn’t be troubling yourself with me. In fact, I think I ought to return home to Glendale. Mother will, no doubt, be at her wit’s end by now and will be thrilled to have me back. And Crossley will be delighted to have me out from under his feet.”

  “Don’t you Georgia Horton me, Vigilia Sherton,” Georgia countered with a mock glare as her face threatened to split into a grin. “You know, I’m even more delighted to have you than Cris might be to see the back of you. Actually, I take that back. My husband is happy to have you here, and I’m relieved that I have an excellent reason not to take to my bed for the next seven months.” Sitting up from where she had thrown herself upon Vicky’s bed, Georgia patted the place beside her. “Come now, Vick, you know your mother would rather see you wed than have your help at home. And you know even more that we’ll never have this chance again. You’re going to wed, and I’m with child. This is the last chance, the only chance, really, for me to be your hostess without any other encumbrances. Don’t shortchange me by speaking of leaving early.”

  Vicky sat beside her and leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I just hate to think I’m burdening you, George. I ought to have found someone by now.”

  “It really hasn’t been very long at all, and well you know it. You’ve only been here a month. In fact, the Season is barely underway, since the wet spring prohibited travel for so many.”

  “You were in Town a day when you met Crossley and were engaged to marry him before your intended two weeks were up.”

  “Surely, you realize that was unusual.”

  “You’re being terribly kind to me, George.” Vicky could hear how small her voice sounded and tried to swallow away the lump forming in her throat.

  “No, I’m not, Vick. You’ve been my best friend forever. This is a treat for me. Don’t you see?”

  Vicky sighed. “And for me. At least being here with you is, but I do wish I could skip the Marriage Mart part.” She laughed a little. “If only my parents had believed in arranged marriages.”

  Georgia laughed, too. “Surely, that would be even worse than this.”

  “So says the happily married countess,” Vicky complained with laughter.

  “Come now, Vick, you know you’re having a great time here with me. Forget about the Marriage Mart and just enjoy the social events we attend.”

  “But the Marriage Mart is the only reason we attend those events,” Vicky exclaimed. “Are you trying to tell me that you actually enjoy the balls and routs and such? I’ve been feeling like a burden as I thought I was the only reason you were attending.”

  Georgia laughed. “I have grown quite accustomed to them, especially now that I am well received amongst the ton. You certainly aren’t the only reason I’m attending.”

  Vicky stared at her friend, trying to keep her mouth from hanging agape. “Truly?” She was well aware that she sounded completely incredulous, but she couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “You felt quite differently when you came up for my first Season.”

  Georgia shrugged, looking sheepish. “Being married changes things.”

  “Ugh!” Vicky wailed as she threw herself back onto the bed. “You see? This is why I just want it to be over.”

  “Well, then pick a nice gentleman and marry him.”

  Vicky gave her best friend a withering glance. “Surely, as someone so hopelessly in love with her husband, you realize that is far easier said than done.”

  Georgia merely answered her with a smug expression on her face, and Vicky growled again.

  “All three of you seemed to have the easiest time of it. Bel and Hilaria didn’t even like their husbands when they first became acquainted, but within weeks they were on the way up the aisle. I’ve debuted multiple times now and still can’t find someone.”

  “Vigilia, my lady,” she began, prompting a stare from Vicky. Georgia interrupted herself to giggle, but carried on a moment later. “You are forgetting several key facts. For one thing, I was the only one of the lot of you who didn’t actually have a debut. How many years was Rosabel out? And Hilaria, too? You have actually only had small portions of two Seasons. One of them was cluttered up with three weddings. And now this one started late due to all the rains, and it is ending far sooner than usual. You are far from a failure. And it certainly isn’t that you haven’t taken or whatever you have in your mind. Do keep in mind how very often the knocker is sounding on the front door. You are very popular. You just aren’t cultivating anyone’s interest. I am of a mind to think that you don’t actually wish to be courted.”

  Vicky sat up and stared at her friend, searching her own heart to see if she agreed. With a frown, she had to admit that perhaps her friend was right. Finally, she shrugged.

  Biting her lip with indecision, Vicky nodded at her friend. “Perhaps, it’s as you’re always saying, I’m too preoccupied with keeping everyone around happy. I don’t know how to choose who would be an ideal mate for me.” She looked around hopelessly before returning her attention to Georgia. “I even told Rosabel during my first Season that I wasn’t at all particular, but perhaps that was a mistake. Perhaps keeping my mind open to all the possibilities makes it too open. But how am I supposed to pick a gentleman to spend the rest of my life with? And then, what if I choose someone and then he doesn’t return my regard?”

  “I can see why that might concern you, but what if he does?”

  Vicky finally laughed. “Am I being completely ridiculous then, do you suppose?”

  “Not completely,” Georgia answered with a grin. “But I do think you ought to consider what sort of gentleman you’d actually like to find yourself wed to in more detail than just that he not mistreat his animals or servants. I’m going to have to say that I agree with Rosabel that you ought to have a higher standard for yourself than that.”

  Vicky sighed. “You didn’t.”

  “I didn’t what?”

  “Crossley came, encountered you, and you both fell in love. You never gave a single thought to marrying a gentleman. In fact, if I remember correctly, you were quite convinced you were going to wed a shopkeeper from the village.”

  Georgia grinned. “That is true.”

  “So, telling me to make a list of details I’m looking for is mean, if you ask me. None of you did. Or you did and completely ignored it. Rosabel didn’t want to marry a nobleman, now she’s a duchess. Hilaria wante
d a duke, but she still wed a nobleman. And you with Crossley. Everyone had their plans and then their secret wishes. But I don’t have either.”

  “So get them,” Georgia insisted with a smile. “While we’re talking about this, why don’t you tell me why you’re avoiding Mr. Northcott as though he has a case of plague.”

  Vicky felt heat climbing her neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, George. And let’s leave him out of this. I have a list to compile,” she concluded with a grin as she slipped off the bed and strode toward the small desk in the corner of her large room.

  Georgia sighed and remained on the bed.

  “He seems quite pleasant, and if I wasn’t a married lady, I do think I would consider him quite attractive. From what I can tell of him, I would think you would like him quite well.”

  “Quite pleasant and rather attractive seems to be nearly as vague as treating his animals and servants well, and both you and my sister have told me those are not sufficient reasons to wed someone. Do be serious and help me with this list.”

  Vicky held her breath, hoping her dear friend would allow the change of subject. The back of her neck tingled as though she could feel Georgia’s speculative gaze examining her. Vicky tried to keep her focus on checking if her pen was sharp enough and making sure the inkwell hadn’t dried up. Pulling a sheet of paper towards her, she stared out the window beside the desk, wondering what she ought to put on it.

  Quite pleasant

  Rather attractive

  Does not mistreat animals or servants

  “You are hopeless,” Georgia huffed on a laugh, causing Vicky to startle but thankfully, not spill the ink. Vicky had surprisingly almost forgotten about her scrutiny and hadn’t noticed that her friend had approached to watch over her shoulder. “Be serious, Vick, what do you find admirable in a gentleman?”

  Intelligent

  She tapped a finger from her free hand against her chin as she thought. “Do you think hard-working makes sense? Most nobles inherit their lands and title, others have to make their own way. While I wouldn’t want to be impoverished, I don’t feel I need to marry someone with renowned wealth. In fact, I think I would rather someone who has managed to achieve something on his own or at least is interested and knowledgeable about his estates.”