The Heiress He's Been Waiting For by Kaitlin O'Riley

Author:Kaitlin O'Riley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

14

Dead Ahead

“Lord Bridgeton? Did you hear me? I was asking you a question. Yoo-hoo! Lord Bridgeton?”

At the sound of his name, Christopher stared blankly at the lady across from him. “Forgive me, Miss Beckwith. I was distracted by the horses.” He honestly had not a clue what she’d been saying. It had been a dismal outing and he had simply ceased listening to her.

“I asked if we would be out here much longer, Lord Bridgeton. Something in the air is making me sneeze. I detest sneezing. Don’t you?” Bonnie Beckwith scrunched up her little nose in distaste. “Are we heading back home yet? It’s dreadfully hot out this afternoon. I’m simply parched and would love something to drink. I believe it is time to return home now, don’t you?” She sneezed three times.

They had been riding through Hyde Park in his barouche. The sun was warm and the early June skies were surprisingly clear. There definitely was a hint of summer in the air. The path was busy as many people were out enjoying the fine weather. In a concerted effort to court her, Christopher had invited Bonnie Beckwith to go riding with him and his sisters. He sorely regretted his decision not two minutes into the ride.

Miss Beckwith and his sister Evie did not get along right from the start, as they bickered over where to sit, and Miss Beckwith had done nothing but complain the entire time. The sun was in her eyes. She was too warm. A bumblebee buzzed near her face. She was afraid of bees. The barouche was uncomfortable. They were traveling too fast. The path was too bumpy.

“Is it not yet time to return, Christopher?” Evie asked, and he knew by the tone of her voice she wished the ride to end as much as he did.

“I believe so, ladies,” he agreed. Then he gave instructions to the driver to return to the Beckwiths’ town house.

Christopher turned back to face Miss Bonnie Beckwith, who sat across from him beside Gwyneth. Poor Gwyneth had not opened her mouth to say two words, not that she could get a word in edgewise with Bonnie jabbering on and on. His sweet little sister in her plain, pale blue bonnet looked like a little wren compared to Bonnie, in a riot of bright pink and lemon organza with enough feathers on her hat to stuff a pillow, looking like a demented parrot. The garish colors somehow seemed even worse next to the sedate hues on his sisters.

He had now paid two calls on Miss Beckwith, sent her a small bouquet of flowers, and danced with her at the Cabots’ ball. By inviting her to ride in Hyde Park with him today, he was taking another step closer to asking for her hand. Her parents were bursting with pride when he’d called for her this afternoon. They could smell marriage in the air and for the time being it seemed that Christopher was in the lead. He knew of two other gentlemen who were courting her, but their ranks weren’t as high as his.

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