Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Christopher couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling he had that he had met Miss Whitten somewhere before. His mother's explanation that she was a distant relative to the Bennets made sense but he couldn't quite place her. Which was odd since her face was unforgettable. Those big, caramel colored eyes alone would be easy to remember. Yet his mind struggled.

Even after dinner, when the party gathered in the parlor to play games and converse, he still felt she was familiar in some way. He couldn't help himself from following her around the room as his mother introduced her to people. At least until his love, Matilde Sampson, stopped him.

"Is there something peculiar about Miss Whitten and Mrs Randall that I should know?" his sweetheart asked, as she stepped in front of him.

Matilde was tall, almost as tall as him, and thin enough to blow in the wind. She had delicate features and a fair complexion, with eyes that matched his in color. Her blond hair was always perfect pinned up to show off her long, elegant neckline and regal line of her chin. She was what would easily be described as the perfect English beauty .

"No, why would you ask such a thing?" Christopher said.

"You have been following them around all evening. I wondered if you suspected they might try to steal the silver."

Christopher thought he had been more discreet about his curiosity but apparently not.

"They are from London and I worried they might not be comfortable at the party. It was my mother's idea to invite them."

"Of course it was." Matilde pursed her lips.

"Kitty is family and Mother is trying to keep on good terms with her. I think it's admirable."

The look she cast in his direction told him that Matilde didn't agree. She didn't have a very large family, being the only child of two people who had no siblings. She didn't know what it was like to be surrounded by aunts and cousins like he did. The Bennets had always been a lively bunch when he visited any of them.

"As long as they are able to show they have manners and not ruin my party."

It was his home and mostly his friends that she wanted to invite from his peer group, but he didn't try to correct her. Matilde was much more delightful when she was happy.

"Your mother was behaving quite cold to me this evening," said Matilde, looking up at him with a pout. "I still don't think she approves of me."

"My mother admires you greatly. She told me so."

"She only said that to make you happy. She clearly does not even like me."

Christopher took her spare hand, the one not holding a glass of champagne, and brought it to his lips.

"I know she will love you, because I love you. It is hard not to."

Matilde gifted him with a smile. Her beauty was often the subject of conversation. Christopher knew that she was more than her pretty face, that she also had a sharp wit behind those dazzling eyes. She could be a bit ambitious, but for a man with political hopes that could be a benefit.

"You flatter me, Lord Aston," said Matilde with flirtatious smile .

"I have given you permission to use my given name."

"Not in public," she said. "Not until we are in an agreement."

Matilde had been hinting to him that she would open to a proposal for the last few weeks. She didn't know that he had intentions of asking her for her hand this weekend and if she accepted, he would announce it at the end of the party. That way they could begin the planning of the wedding as soon as possible. Once Christopher made a decision, he didn't like to wait for the outcome.

"You would make a wonderful wife," Christopher said, leaning in so that he could lower his voice. "You would make any man wild with desire."

She gave him a coy smile. "I wouldn't want just any man."

Christopher felt himself puff up from that comment.

"You should return to your guests before your mother notices you are neglecting them. I don't want to draw her wrath for distracting you."

Christopher smiled and walked away, but kept his eyes on her. He couldn't wait until the end of the party so he could claim her as his own.