Promised (Proper Romance) - Leah Garriott Page 0,1

lesson well. “This is what I want,” I told my brother. All would be made right once I found someone safe.

Daniel sighed. “I can see you are determined. Let’s get you settled.”

“Ah, Miss Brinton. Mr. Brinton.” Mrs. Hickmore stepped before us, grabbing each of us by the hand. “I’m so pleased you made it.”

“Thank you for extending the invitation yet again,” I said.

She patted my hand. “I am delighted you finally took me up on the offer, for of all the people here, I most wish you the match you seek.”

“Thank you,” I replied, flattered by her concern.

“Now, Mr. Brinton,” she continued, “I believe you will find your seat there.” She pointed toward the head of the second table. “And Miss Brinton, if you will follow me?”

She took my arm and led me toward the first table. Leaning over conspiratorially, she said, “It would not suit our purposes to have you seated too near your brother. Relations have a way of meddling at the most unfortunate of times where young ladies are concerned. I made certain he was situated with his back to you. You will be free to converse at your leisure.” She tapped her nose knowingly before coming to an abrupt halt before her husband. “Oh, Henry. Look who finally decided to join us.”

Mr. Hickmore took my hand in his bulky one. “So glad you made it.”

Mrs. Hickmore beamed. “Won’t she just be the catch of the party?”

“She’ll have her fair share of offers—I’d wager this year’s harvest on it. A man would be daft not to fall for those green eyes and that mop of dark curls.”

His grasp on my hand tightened. I tried to free myself while mumbling something about his being too kind, but Mrs. Hickmore cut me off, her eyes wide with astonishment. “A ‘mop of dark curls’? You’re calling this beautiful hair a mop? And ‘dark’ doesn’t even describe it. It’s more the color of that box you bought me, the one made from that Jamaican wood. Oh, what do they call it?”

“Mahogany,” Mr. Hickmore offered.

“Yes, that’s it. Very rich. I dare say, Henry, I don’t think describing her hair as a mop is the compliment you mean it to be.” She turned back to me. “Mop, indeed. Don’t pay him any heed. I never do, you know.”

“No, you don’t,” her husband grumbled, finally releasing my hand.

Mrs. Hickmore pulled me away, directing me to an empty spot at the table. “Here you are.”

The man standing to the right of my seat glanced over, his gaze sweeping over me. His dark hair was styled with disregard, as though he’d just run his hands through it. Yet his perfectly snug dinner coat, outlining his muscled shoulders and trim form, was in the latest style, and his cravat, though simply tied, was starched and pressed and without spot. He carried an air of self-assured unconcern that didn’t waver as Mrs. Hickmore proceeded with the introduction.

“Let me present Mr. Fredrick Northam. He owns a large and well-kept estate to the south of here, as well as a house in London. He enjoys riding, hunting, and has a keen eye for business. His grandfather was aristocracy and his mother one of the kindest women I’ve ever met. No one can deny that he is quite the catch. However, he’s been known to break a heart or two with nary a backward glance, so be on your guard.”

I was always on my guard now. As for the rest, this man appeared confident and disinterested. That he possessed a country estate far enough from my own neighborhood to provide a restart in life made him nearly perfect. Perhaps he was exactly what I was hoping for.

I waited for something to draw me to him, a spark of interest warning me to look elsewhere.

No flicker of attraction came.

Smiling, I said, “I assure you, I shall keep my heart quite secured.”

Mr. Northam inclined his head, his smile unchanged though he raised a brow.

“And on your other side,” Mrs. Hickmore continued, “is a man with such an upstanding reputation I didn’t dare leave him out.” The man she indicated finished his conversation with the young woman next to him and turned to greet me. His short hair was a lighter brown than Mr. Northam’s, and his eyes were blue. His clothes were not quite so fitted, though still expensively tailored. His expression was guarded, but there was an ease to his smile that made me want to smile in return.

I only just kept