The Earl's Inconvenient Wife. Julia Justiss
not at all—Giff said, ‘Quite true. Being a member of Lyndlington’s “Hadley’s Hellions” group, Christopher had the benefit of being included in the dinners Giles and Maggie gave. Alas, I have no such close connections to a political hostess.’
‘Which is why your mama keeps pestering you to marry one. Or at least a girl with money.’ His surprise must have shown on his face, for Temper said, ‘She’s bound to be wanting you to marry wealth—if only to remove the strain of your upkeep from the family purse. Although she may also want some grandchildren to dandle on her knee.’
Gifford tried to imagine such a picture and couldn’t. Mama might be interested in the heir’s children—but never his. ‘I doubt that. She’d rather be rid of my expense so she can hang new reticules on her wrist and put more expensive gowns on her back!’
‘I may occasionally be angry with Mama, but at least I know, infamous as she is, she loves us.’
Lady Vraux might be a fond mama, but the scandalous behaviour of her earlier years had caused irrevocable harm to her daughters. Gifford had trouble forgiving her for that sin.
‘Even if I’m plagued with a Season,’ Temper had continued, ‘it’s unlikely I’ll become bosom friends with any pure young maidens. Watchful mamas will probably warn their girls to avoid me like a medieval scourge, lest a daughter’s reputation become contaminated by mine. Are there any rich young ladies who have caught your eye?’
‘Since, despite Mama’s continual urging, I’m not yet ready to make the plunge into matrimony, I avoid gatherings where females of that ilk may be lurking.’ He laughed. ‘Not that I would be accounted a prime catch by any means.’
‘Oh, I don’t know! You’re handsome, intelligent, well spoken, principled and from an excellent old family. All you lack is fortune and, for a girl with a large dowry, that would hardly be an impediment. If you’re not ready to marry, you’re probably wise to avoid places where some determined young miss might try to entrap you.’ She grinned. ‘Besides, though you may not be as...flagrant about your pursuits as in years past, I know for certain that when it comes to feminine company, you and Gregory still prefer ladies of easy virtue.’
‘You really do have no maidenly modesty, do you?’ he asked, half-amused, half-exasperated by her plain speaking.
‘Growing up in this household? I would have to be blind and dumb to have attained my advanced age still retaining any. So, no gently born young ladies of interest at the moment. Should you like me to be on the lookout for likely prospects, if I manage to get invited to entertainments where virtuous young maidens gather?’
‘Are you going to join my mother in haranguing? Not very sporting, when you profess yourself so opposed to marriage.’
‘Not haranguing and our cases are quite different. As long as I can convince Papa to allow me some wealth of my own, marriage offers me no advantages. Whereas, for you, gaining a wealthy bride whose funds would free you from depending on the pittance your family grudgingly doles out would make your job in Parliament easier. Obtaining a hostess like Maggie, who is intelligent, charming and interested in politics, would be even more beneficial.’
The wives of Christopher and his friends were admirable, the couples did seem happy in their unions, and everything she said about ending his money worries and having a capable hostess was true. ‘Perhaps,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m not ready to acquire the advantages of marriage yet.’
‘Not ready to give up your ladies, you mean.’
‘Let’s return to your situation,’ he said, having heard enough remarks about his predilection for the muslin company. ‘I meant what I said about asking Lady Sayleford if she would sponsor you. She’s truly as redoubtable as her reputation claims. If you must have a Season to bring your father around, she would be the best candidate to sponsor you. Anything I can do to help, you know I will, Temper.’
The amusement fled from her face, replaced by a sad little smile that touched his heart. ‘I know, Giff. You’ve been good friend to all of us for as long as I can remember and I do thank you for it,’ she said, reaching over to pat his hand.
It was meant to be a casual, friendly gesture. But her light touch resonated through his body with the impact of a passionate kiss. And produced the same result.
He froze, fighting the reaction. Unfortunately, Temper stilled as well, staring at her hand resting on his, her expression startled and uncertain.
And then, rosy colour suffusing her face, she snatched her hand back. ‘Yes, ah, that would be, um, quite... I mean, if I must have a Season, I would appreciate your approaching Lady Sayleford.’
Her voice sounded as odd as her disjointed words. Which must mean that the touch that paralysed him had affected her, too. He wasn’t sure whether to be satisfied or alarmed by the fact.
Maybe it was time to leave, before the randy part of him urged him to further explore that intriguing possibility. Setting down his teacup with a clatter, he said, ‘I must be off. Shall I call on my godmother and see what I can arrange?’
If the moment had been as intense for her, it had passed, for the look she angled up at him was all laughing, mischievous child again. ‘Yes, I suppose you must. Imagine—Temperance Lattimar gowned in white, making her debut among the virtuous maidens! That would set the cat among the pigeons, don’t you think?’
‘It should certainly be...interesting,’ he allowed. ‘I’ll call again later after I’ve had a chance to chat with her. Thank you for tea and goodbye, Temper.’
‘Goodbye, Giff.’ She held out her hand to shake goodbye—as they had countless times before—and must have thought better of it, for she hastily retracted it. Not that he would have been foolish enough, after his disturbingly strong reaction to her previous touch, to offer her his hand.
No matter how much he’d like to touch that...and more.
Irritated by the simmer of attraction he was having such a hard time suppressing, Gifford strode out of the room. Trotting down the entry steps of Vraux House after the butler closed the door behind him, he blew out a breath.
He’d been sincere when he assured Temperance that he’d do whatever he could to help her. He truly wanted the best for her. But the attraction she exerted on him seemed to only be growing and doing this service meant he’d likely be seeing her more often than the occasional meeting when he dropped by to visit Gregory.
The prospect of seeing more of Temperance Lattimar was both alluring...and alarming.
After watching Gifford Newell walk out, Temperance sat back on the sofa and poured herself another cup of tea.
Was she wise to let Giff help her? All she’d done was pat his hand and—oh, my! The bolt of attraction was so strong she’d been immobilised by it. So much that she forgot where she was and what she was doing, her brain wiped free of every thought except the wonder of what it might feel like to kiss him.
She didn’t seem to be doing a very good job of ignoring the attraction. Perhaps she ought to regretfully acknowledge that a complication had arisen in what had previously been a carefree, straightforward friendship, and be on guard against it.
The last thing she should do was allow curiosity to lure her into exploring where those impulses might lead.
And then she had to laugh. It was highly unlikely that handsome, commanding, virile Gifford Newell, who probably had never seen her as anything but his best friend’s troublesome little sister, would be interested in pursuing such feelings with her—even though she was quite certain he had felt the explosive force of that touch. Not when he already had long-standing and mutually satisfactory relations with ladies far more practised and alluring than she was.
Which