Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(33)

But none were like Merry. None had the fiery personality and the quick wit of her. No one would ever compare.

“How about this, Mother...let me worry about which women I wish to talk to today, and I promise I shall attend your next at home and be nothing but charming and lovely to whichever ladies attend.”

She pursed her lips and eyed him. “I suppose that would be agreeable.”

“Excellent. Do not forget you have Lord Thornford to find a wife for, too.”

She grinned. “Yes, he is quite a catch. And far more amenable to my attempts.” Poor Griff. Still he supposed Griff was at least enjoying all the attention. He couldn’t quite fathom why his friend had yet to leave for London. Harcourt had hardly had a moment to spend with the man, but he was damned good at occupying himself and establishing a better social life than Harcourt had.

He offered his mother his arm. “Come then, Mother. I assume the carriage is ready.”

She gave his cravat one last tug, then took his arm.

Griff joined them in the carriage. “So what is this kite festival all about?”

Harcourt shrugged. “It’s been happening for as long as I can remember. I am certain there was some reason for it, but I have little idea why.”

“I think it was something to do with one of the wars,” his mother muttered. “We probably saw off invaders on the beach with kites or some such.”

Griff’s expression grew bemused. “What a quaint tradition.”

“What of Miss Arabella Pemberton,” Harcourt’s mother declared. “She’s a sweet thing with respectable parents. A little shy perhaps but there is nothing wrong with timidity. Far better to be shy than outrageous.”

He should probably put his mother out of her misery and tell him that he’d already found the woman for him, but the last thing he needed was his mother forcing him upon Merry. His mother would scare her entirely and ruin any slight progress he had made.

“Outrageous like you, you mean?”

She gave a gasp. “I am certainly not outrageous.”

“You are hardly prone to timidity,” he said dryly.

“Just because one is not shy does not mean one is outrageous.” She paused and waved a hand. “Anyway, I am an old widow. I can do what I wish. No one minds if an older woman is outrageous.”

“Oh look, we’re here.”

“You do not need to sound so glad about it.”

Harcourt chuckled and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun, Mother. Leave the courting to me.”

She snorted. “If I leave it to you, there shall be no courting whatsoever.”

“You promised.”

She sighed. “Yes, I know.”

Stepping out of the carriage, he handed his mother down and straightened his hat.

“Oh, there is Mrs. Georgeson.” His mother unlatched her hand from his. “Be good,” she warned.

Harcourt grinned. “I am always more than good.”

With a tut, his mother left them. The kite festival had been happening in Lulworth Cove for as long as he could remember. He had never been sure why it had started but as the local nobility, he was always obliged to attend. In his younger years, he’d found it tiresome. There would be few women to entertain—none that he could truly enjoy the company of without expectations anyway—and most of his friends resided in London, even Daniel for the most part of the year.

Last years had been different, though. He could still recall Merry, the wind riffling her hair with a flush on her cheeks. Her laughter skittered across the sand, drawing his attention. It had not been the first time he’d noticed she had grown into an attractive woman, but it was one of the more prominent moments. One that had etched itself into his mind and built up until he could deny it no longer—his feelings for her had changed.

“Well, all the ladies are here.” Griff grinned. “And quite a fine selection too.”

“You’re enjoying the countryside now then?”

“All these untouched, sweet country women. I can almost see why you were so keen to return home. Though I suspect only one woman was responsible for that.”

Harcourt sought her out now, scanning the crowds of children and adults gathered on the beach. Kites already filled the sky—some rudimentary and made from little more than twigs and paper while there were other larger silk ones, filling the sky with color. Thankfully the day promised to be clear and sunny, but the breeze filled the cove as though lingering especially for the festival.

He took the time to walk amongst the kite-flyers, greeting many of the villagers and stopping to converse with the prominent businessmen of the area. He introduced Griff to a few of the people he had not met yet but most already knew of him, particularly the young women who all sent flirtatious looks his way. It was not often they had another titled man in their midst after all.

The whole time, however, he had a target in mind.

Merry stood on the outskirts of the group with her three friends. Her kite was at odds with her mourning wear—a bright purple and green diamond that she flew quite masterfully. He could not help stealing glances her way, admiring the color in her cheeks and her wide smile as she concentrated on keeping the kite aloft.

Griff leaned in. “Go on then. I can occupy myself. As I seem to be doing with increasing regularity.”

“You invited yourself here,” Harcourt pointed out. “You will not make me feel guilty.”