Page 85 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

She nodded, eyes wide with horror.

‘Are you going to tell anyone?’

‘I am not sure yet,’ he said, suppressing a smile of his own.

‘Lydia is going to be furious,’ Miss James murmured.

‘There are two of you?’

She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I need to stop talking.’

‘Please don’t, Miss James. This is the most fun I’ve had for months.’

‘Now you’re mocking me.’

‘Not at all.’

‘You’re an earl. This cannot be the most fun you’ve had. Your life must be full of luxury and entertainment.’

‘I find it is mainly full of accounts and responsibilities,’ he said. ‘That is unfair and very... I am well aware of the privileged life I lead. It is full of luxury and extravagance, as you say, but not fun.’

‘That is sad,’ Alice said, and she touched him on the hand. It was a fleeting contact, but it made his skin tingle, and he looked up quickly. There was no guile in her eyes, and he realised the furthest thing from her mind was seduction—whether because she had a young man she fancied herself in love with or because their backgrounds were so far apart she knew there could never be anything between them.

‘It is sad,’ he said quietly. ‘So tonight I charge you with lifting this grumpy man’s spirits.’

‘And in exchange you will not expose my deception.’

‘We have a deal. Tell me, Miss James, how did you manage to sneak in without one of the dozens of footmen seeing you?’

She motioned out at the garden beyond the terrace. Only the terrace was lit, the grass and the formal garden beyond in darkness.

‘We crept through the garden.’

He glanced down and laughed. ‘I can see there was a little mud.’

‘I was terrified when we arrived that I might have foliage in my hair. We had to squeeze through a hedge to get into the right part of the garden.’

‘That is commitment to your cause. What made you so keen to come here tonight?’

She sighed and looked out into the darkness.

‘I doubt you know the feeling of helplessness, of not being in control of your own future,’ she said with a hint of melancholy. She was wrong in her assumption, but now was not the time to correct her. ‘Soon I will not be able to choose anything more thrilling than what curtains to hang or what to serve for dinner.’

‘You are to be married.’

The expression on her face told him she was not happy about the prospect.

She straightened and turned to face him. ‘I am to marry my second cousin, vile Cecil.’

‘Vile Cecil?’

‘It is an apt description of him.’

‘I already feel sorry for you. What makes him so vile?’

Miss James exhaled, puffing out her cheeks in a way that made him smile. He didn’t know her exact background, but by the way she spoke and held herself he would guess she was from a family of the minor gentry. Perhaps a landowner father or even a vicar. She knew how to conduct herself but hadn’t been subject to the scrutiny many of the women of the ton had to endure, so the odd shrug of the shoulders or theatrical sigh hadn’t been trained out of her.

‘Where to start? Imagine you are a young lady,’ she said, and he adopted his most serious expression.