Free Never Miss a Chance by Maureen Driscoll Page A

Riverton.  “The brat is
always in a mood most foul until she has her chocolate.  You may want to keep
that in mind with any thoughts toward matrimonial bliss.”
    Lizzie tore her gaze away from Riverton and turned to
Lynwood.  “Am I to understand that the Earl of Stalford expressed an interest
in courting me?”
    “He asked if he may pay his addresses,” replied Lynwood.
    “And all those flower arrangements in the foyer?” she asked.
    “From various admirers.  Some suitable, some not.”
    “And just who would determine their degree of suitability?” 
asked Lizzie with more than a hint of steel in her voice.
    “The head of the family,” said Lynwood in a matching tone. 
“With your input, of course.”
    “Of course.”  She turned back to Riverton.  “Am I to
understand, my lord, that you are proposing marriage as some sort of rescue? 
As one might take in an abandoned pet?”
    “Does my offer of marriage offend you Lady Elizabeth?” he
asked, with the hint of a wry smile.  “I assure you that was not my intent.”
    “Marriage to the Marquess of Riverton would be an honor for
any woman,” she said.
    Riverton released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
    “But as a proposal, that, sir, was only slightly less
romantic than when Heskiss gives the footmen their weekly assignments.”
    “Technically, it wasn’t a proposal.  I was only asking
Lynwood for permission to address you.”
    “And you did it with all the enthusiasm of a man approaching
the gallows.  Why would you offer for me if you don’t wish to?” 
    “Who says I don’t wish to?”
    “You don’t have to say it.  It was clear from your
proposal.”
    “It wasn’t a proposal!”  The woman was maddening.
    “That is my very point.  It was a ‘joining of the Riverton
and Lynwood lines,’ as if you were selecting a brood mare from a line of
winning racehorses!”  She came close to, but narrowly avoided, stomping her
foot.
    “She needs her chocolate,” said Arthur, as he dug into his
rasher of bacon.
    “Arthur, Hal, perhaps we should give our sister and Riverton
some time alone,” said Lynwood, already walking toward the door and fully
expecting to be followed.   “And, Riverton?”
    Riverton and Lizzie both looked at him.
    “You have my permission to offer for my sister – God help
you.” Lynwood had just the hint of a smile as he left the room, followed by
Arthur and Hal, clutching their plates as they went.
    Then Lizzie and Riverton were absolutely and frighteningly
alone.
    It had been a sleepless night for Lizzie.  Her mind had
raced with the events at the Tarlington ball.  The snubs, the leers, the
unaccustomed feeling of not being in control.  There was the ham-handed mauling
by the idiot baronet and a rather nice conversation with the Earl of Stalford. 
But foremost in her mind had been the Marquess of Riverton.  Marcus.
    Not just his rescue, which was quick-thinking and gallant. 
But the waltz.  Then the conversation in the garden.  It was a new experience
to be treated like an adult, especially by someone like Riverton. 
    Although, once she thought about it, it hadn’t seemed out of
character for him at all.
    He’d always listened to her.  Even on those long-ago visits
to Lynwood Manor during school holidays, he’d been the one to listen to her
while her brothers couldn’t wait to leave her behind.  She’d thought him
remarkably handsome, but terribly old.  For his part, he’d always treated her
politely, but somewhat distantly.  But last night, they seemed to be equals.  There’d
been an intimacy and understanding unlike any she’d ever experienced.  And she
was intrigued to see where they’d go from there.
    She’d been watching out her window that morning to see a
steady stream of men arrive at the house carrying flowers, only to be sent out
again moments later.  And what a parade it had been.  Second sons, first sons
known for their gaming addictions, infamous rakes.