Amused he asked "Perhaps you'd permit me to escort you?"
Surprise flitted across her face and she hesitated. "That is very kind, sir, but unnecessary Surely you wish to remain and enjoy your solitude."
Yes, surely he wished to do that. Didn't he? But the idea of being alone with his thoughts suddenly held no appeal.
When he didn't answer, she added "Or perhaps you'd rather return to the party?"
He suppressed a shudder. "As I escaped the party only a short time ago, I'm not anxious to return just yet."
"Indeed? Were you not enjoying the festivities?"
He considered telling a polite lie, but decided not to. "In truth, no. I detest these soirees."
She gaped at him. "Heavens, I thought it was only me."
He couldn't hide his surprise. Every female he knew lived for balls. "You weren't enjoying yourself?"
A pained look settled in her eyes, and she dropped her gaze. "No, I'm afraid not."
It seemed clear that someone had treated this young woman unkindly-someone in his home, attending his foolish ball. He could well imagine the belles of Society twittering behind their fans about the "Colonial Upstart."
Polite manners dictated that he return to the house and act as host, but he had no desire to do so. He suspected his mother was at this very moment sending exasperated glances in every direction, wondering where he was and how long he planned to remain in hiding. Knowing there were at least two dozen marriageable women his matchmaking mother hoped to throw in his path made him more determined to avoid the ballroom.
"Clearly we both needed some fresh air," he said with a smile. "Come. I shall show you to the stables and you can tell me about your adventures with Gadzooks."
Elizabeth hesitated. If Aunt Joanna knew she was alone in the garden with a gentleman, she knew she'd be on the receiving end of a lecture. But returning to the party was simply impossible considering the current state of her appearance. Besides, she'd suffered enough for one evening.
She was tired of being stared at and whispered about because she enjoyed conversing on topics other than fashion and the weather. And she could not help it if she was a miserable dancer and taller than deemed appropriate. If this gentleman was aware of the mockery circulating about her nationality and personality, he was polite enough not to show it.
"I realize you are without a chaperone," he said his tone amused, "but you have my word I shall not abscond with you."
Assuring herself there was no harm in accepting his offer of escort, Elizabeth said, "By all means, let us walk."
Strolling beside him down the path, her flounce dragging behind her, she cuddled Gadzooks in her arms and cast a surreptitious glance at her companion. Thank goodness she wasn't prone to heaving dreamy, romantic sighs, for this was certainly a man who could induce them. Thick ebony hair framed a strikingly handsome face made all the more intriguing by the play of shadows from the moonlight. His eyes were steady and intense, and when he'd gazed at her a moment ago her toes had involuntarily curled inside her slippers. High cheekbones, nose straight as a blade, and a full, firm mouth that she knew could quirk with amusement and she imagined would look fierce in anger.
In truth, everything about him was attractive. But there was no point in finding this stranger intriguing. As soon as he realized what a social disaster she was, he would surely rebuff her, just as so many others had.
"Tell me, Miss Matthews, with whom are you attending this ball?"
"I came with my aunt, Countess Penbroke."
Speculation filled his gaze. "Indeed? I knew her late husband, however I was not aware they had an American niece."
"My mother and Aunt Joanna were sisters. My mother settled in America when she married my father, an American physician." She shot him a sidelong glance. "My mother was born and raised in England. Thus, I am half English."
A smile touched his lips. "So you are, then, only half an Upstart."
She laughed. "Oh, no. I fear I'm still an Upstart through and through."
"Is this your first visit to England?"
"Yes." There was no point in telling him this was more than a visit-that she would never return to her hometown.
"And are you enjoying it?"
She hesitated, but decided to tell him the unvarnished truth. "I like your country, but I find English society and all its rules restricting. I grew up in a rural area and had much more freedom. It is not easy adjusting."
He glanced at her clothing. "Clearly you're experiencing difficulty giving up the American custom of crawling about in the bushes in your evening clothes."
A giggle erupted from between her lips. "Yes, it appears so."
The stables loomed ahead. As they approached, a tremendously plump cat emerged from the doorway and let out a loud meow.
The gentleman bent to stroke the animal. "Hello there, George. How's my girl tonight? Are you missing your baby?"
Elizabeth lowered Gadzooks to the ground and the kitten immediately pounced on George. "Gadzooks's mother is named George?"
He looked up at her from his crouched position and smiled. "Yes. As in 'By George, that cat must be a female because look there-she's having kittens!' My groom named her. Mortlin knows everything about horses, but little, I'm afraid, about cats."
Her answering smile faded as the significance of his words hit her. "Your groom? Are these your cats?"
Austin rose slowly to his feet, inwardly cursing his carelessness. His pleasant interlude was about to come to an end. "Yes, the cats are mine."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, dear. Then this is your home?"
Austin cast a quick glance toward the mansion in the distance. It was where he lived but it hadn't felt like a home in over a year.
"Yes, Bradford Hall belongs to me."
"Then you must be…" She swept downward into an awkward curtsy. "Forgive me, your grace. I didn't realize who you were. You must think me incredibly rude."
He watched her arise from her curtsy, waiting to see her eyes narrow with speculation, flicker with avarice, sparkle with anticipation of how to best put her unexpected meeting with "England's Most Eligible Bachelor" to her advantage.
He saw none of it. Instead, she seemed genuinely distressed. And anxious to get away from him. How very interesting.
"I'm so sorry I said I wasn't enjoying your party," she said, taking several steps backward. "It's a delightful party. Delightful. The food the music, the guests, they are all…"
"Delightful?" he supplied helpfully.
She nodded and retreated several more steps.
His gaze never left her face. Emotions streaked through her expressive eyes-embarrassment, dismay, surprise, but not once did he discern a hint of coyness or speculation. Nor did she seem particularly impressed with his lofty title. But it was the complete lack of something else that utterly fascinated him.
She wasn't flirting with him.
She hadn't flirted earlier, before she'd known who he was, but now…
How incredibly interesting.
"Thank you for escorting me, your grace. I believe I shall return to the house now." She took several more steps backward.
"What about your gown, Miss Matthews? Not even a Colonial Upstart would dare enter the ballroom in your present condition."
Halting, she looked down at herself. "I don't suppose there's any hope that no one would notice."
"No hope at all. Are you and your aunt spending the night?"
"Yes. In fact, we're staying on here at Bradford Hall for several weeks as guests of the dowager duchess…" Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Who is your mother."
"Indeed she is." Austin briefly wondered if his mother had arranged for the visit with the hopes of making a match, but he immediately discarded the idea. He couldn't imagine that his very proper mother would deem an American to be a suitable duchess. No, he knew all too well that she had her matchmaking eye set on several young women of impeccable British lineage. "As long as you're staying here, I believe I can solve your problem. I'll show you to a little-used side entrance that leads directly up to the guest chambers."