Saving Lord Berkshire - Laura Beers Page 0,31
forced a smile to her lips. “I’m not sure that statement is true.”
Lord Berkshire cleared his throat. “Are we done here?”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, eyeing him critically.
He rose and adjusted his green riding jacket. “I already told you that I am in need of a wife.”
“But why now?” she questioned.
“I am getting older, and I need to do my duty by producing an heir,” he said.
“Why not wait until Kitty is married?”
Lord Berkshire gave her a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Why wait?”
“Why wait, indeed?”
He bowed. “Now if you will excuse me, I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Blackmore.”
Rising, Katherine said, “I don’t believe I ever said yes, Lord Berkshire.”
“But you will,” he replied smugly.
“Why is that?”
Lord Berkshire smiled at her, a dashing smile that threatened to disarm her. “Because I can be quite charming when I want to be.”
“I have yet to witness that,” she quipped, lifting her brow.
Lord Berkshire chuckled. “Good evening,” he said before he turned and departed.
Katherine sank back into her chair as she stared at the open doorway. Good heavens, what had just transpired? Lord Berkshire wanted her to find him a bride?
Amelia stepped into the room with a biscuit in her hand. “I take it that we have a new client.”
“Did you hear that?”
Her sister nodded. “I heard everything,” she replied, “and I agree with you. I think Lord Berkshire would be better off if he just got a dog.”
“I have no doubt.”
“Do you think he is in earnest?”
Katherine sighed. “I don’t know,” she replied. “He was so certain that love isn’t real last night and now—”
Amelia spoke over her. “He is open to the possibility of finding love. I found that odd, too.”
“Well, I say we accept him as a client, at least on a trial basis.”
“I think that is wise,” Amelia said before taking a bite of her biscuit. “Are you ready to play cards now?”
Katherine rose. “I am. I need to do something to distract me from that very peculiar conversation.”
8
Dressed in his blue riding jacket and dark trousers, Edward had just finished reading the morning newspaper when his sister practically skipped into the dining room.
“Good morning, brother,” she greeted him merrily as she headed towards the buffet table. “How are you this fine morning?”
He lowered the paper to the table and shifted in his seat to face her. “You seem to be in a rather cheerful mood.”
“And why would I not be?” she asked, accepting a plate from a footman. “I will be spending the day over at Miss Blackmore’s.”
“I am pleased that you enjoy going over there.”
After Kitty filled her plate with food, she walked over and sat down to the right of him. “I enjoy it immensely,” she replied. “In fact, Amelia has offered to start teaching me how to play the guitar.”
“Why would you want to learn that?” he asked. “You are already accomplished at the lyre and pianoforte.”
“Because it will be fun.”
“You and I seem to have two different definitions of fun.”
Kitty smiled. “We always have.”
Edward reached for his teacup. “I must admit that I was pleased to see you conversing with Mr. Dunn at the dinner party,” he said.
“I found Mr. Dunn to be quite delightful.”
“Truly?” he asked. “I found him to be rather dull.”
“I even kept the diagram that he created to show us how to build a dam,” Kitty replied as she reached for her fork.
“You kept that?”
“It was an impressive rendering.”
Edward took a sip of his drink, dreading the answer to his next question. “Are you interested in being courted by Mr. Dunn?”
She shook her head. “Heavens, no,” she replied. “He was nice enough, but I am not interested in being courted by him.”
“That is good to know,” Edward said with a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I could abide having Mr. Dunn as my brother-in-law.”
A footman placed a cup of chocolate in front of his sister. She smiled her thanks, then remarked, “I found it encouraging that I could speak to Mr. Dunn when I followed Miss Blackmore’s advice.”
“Which was?”
“I take a deep breath and count to ten whenever I start to feel nervous or anxious,” she revealed. “Furthermore, Miss Blackmore told me that everyone has their own story. A reason why they are the way they are, and their eyes hold a hint of that story.”
“Is that so?”
She nodded. “Which is why we must look into their eyes and see what they reveal. It is a gateway into their souls.”
“That is sound advice.”
“I agree,” Kitty replied.