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Colin heaved an inward sigh. He had hoped that the spacing would stop the ladies from lobbing dinner rolls at each other, and so far dinner had been a tame affair—too tame.
Conversation had been desultory.
His mother was trying to ignore Belinda, and Sophie was a reluctant participant.
Sophie resembled him in coloring, but she’d had more trouble escaping their mother’s influence—no doubt partly because she was younger, and his mother had her own hopes for her only daughter.
Colin looked from his sister to Belinda. They should be at least vaguely familiar with each other. After all, they were only a few years apart in age and had grown up in the same social circles.
He cleared his throat. “Sophie, I would have thought you and Belinda were acquainted.”
His sister jerked her head up and gave him an alarmed look. Her eyes darted to their mother before returning to him. “I believe that Belinda and I have been at some of the same social functions, but we hardly spoke.”
Everyone, of course, knew why.
The friction between the Granvilles and the Wentworths was legendary, and judging from the conversation tonight, it was also in their blood to be unable to communicate.
Colin would not be deterred. “My sister is a graphic designer, Belinda. She’s always coming up with new prints inspired by famous artists.”
Belinda and Sophie exchanged wary looks.
“Actually, my designs
are influenced by manga,” Sophie said. “I’ve visited Japan several times.”
“I’ve been to Japan for Lansing’s,” Belinda responded.
Sophie nodded…and the conversation lapsed.
Colin firmed his jaw.
He guessed he wouldn’t be able to unearth the witty Belinda tonight even if he had professional digging equipment. The same went for Sophie.
His mother was, of course, a lost cause.
No, the only things that glittered about the women tonight were their clothes and their jewels. Belinda’s beaded top caught the light, competing with his mother’s five-carat ruby necklace.
He suddenly saw the months stretching ahead of him like a dusty desert road. If his family and Belinda could barely talk then he’d have to keep them away from each other.
He could easily do so, of course. He owned several houses, and Halstead Hall was quite large. But it rankled that he’d have to resort to it.
This should have been a moment to savor because Belinda was his.
She’d set down her weekend bag in a guest suite when she’d arrived earlier today, but in his mind, now that she’d agreed to remain his wife, it was only a matter of time before he seduced her into thinking that heading back to bed with him was a good idea.
He studied his wife. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders and just caressing the tops of her breasts. Her lips were full and glistening pink, and her profile straight. The soft lines of her cheek and jaw were outlined by the light and shadows of the dining room.
He wanted her.
They had explosive chemistry in bed, and he was looking forward to enjoying it again.
On the other hand, explosive could hardly be used to describe dinner.
It was time, he decided, to ignite the fuse on the proverbial bomb.
He cleared his throat, and three pairs of eyes fixed on him.
“Belinda and I have been invited to the Duke of Hawkshire’s wedding to Pia Lumley,” he said. “It will be our first public outing as a couple.”
