Cordell snorted. “Good luck.”
He sipped the champagne he held as his eyes landed on Celeste Hathaway. She looked stunning. The lady stood with the Marquess of Derry and Sebastian Devons. There was a closeness between the three of them that irritated him. Caleb took a deep breath, telling himself he was being ridiculous.
Still, his initial thought wasn’t wrong. Hathaway was gorgeous. She wore a deep purple gown that accentuated her curves. An amethyst necklace lay nestled on her breasts. She took a deep breath, and it shifted ever so slightly. He itched to run his hand along the chain. Her blonde hair was no longer falling down her back but in a very elegant bun at her nape. The temptation to see it falling around her shoulders filled him.
“Who is she?” Cordell asked, following his gaze.
He scowled at his brother, who looked at him in surprise. Cordell raised a hand in surrender. “Down, Caleb. I didn’t know you had already formed an attachment.”
“I haven’t,” he bit out.
His brother laughed and started walking towards Hathaway, Devons, and Derry. Caleb followed on his heels. Cordell added. “Relax. I promise she is yours.”
But she wasn’t. He was behaving like a possessive ass. They’d only just met.
They stopped before the trio, and Cordell said, “Good evening.”
Caleb nodded at the men and then nodded to her. “Good evening, Miss Hathaway.”
Devons' gaze darted between him and her. “You two have met?”
A blush highlighted her cheeks. “Mr. Monteith saved me from some of Derry’s angry geese.”
Devons chuckled. “They are mean.”
Caleb grinned at her, ignoring everyone’s confusion. For some reason, he didn’t want this lady to know he was now the Marquess of Haven. Did that make him an awful person? He insisted, “You would have persevered.”
Hathaway wrinkled her dainty nose, and he had the absurd desire to kiss her there. Hell, he wanted to run his lips along more than one place on her body. The need was so strongit took his breath away. They’d only just met. She smiled at him. “You are too nice, Mr. Monteith.”
He would have to tell her about his title. Caleb didn’t want her to think he was trying to make her look foolish.
“Lord Haven,” a woman whose daughter was on the marriage mart, interrupted.
He stiffened and wished he’d had a few more moments with Hathaway before the interruption. She looked at him, confused. He turned to Lady Gettle and smiled. “Hello, my lady.”
“My daughter doesn’t have anyone to accompany her into dinner. Have you chosen someone?”
Caleb gritted his teeth, knowing he wanted to lie and say yes, but didn’t want to offend the pushy woman for his mother’s sake. “I would love to.”
Lady Gettle beamed at him. “Splendid. I will retrieve Melanie and bring her over to join you.”
He turned back, and Hathaway lifted a brow. “I didn’t realize you were the new Marquess of Haven, my lord.”
All traces of the playfulness that had existed between them disappeared. The bell chimed just as Lady Gettle’s daughter arrived. Hathaway walked herself into the dining room, not bothering to look back. Cordell glanced at him, amused, and he scowled in return.
***
Celeste studied Monteith, or perhaps she should say Haven, now that she knew he was a lord. Distaste and disappointment churned in her stomach. She’d enjoyed speaking with him during their brief interaction. Why did he have to be a peer?
Not that any of it mattered. It wasn’t as if she were interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone. Her work at the Den kept her far too busy for that. Her gaze discreetlyroamed over the rugged man. He laughed at something the young Lady Melanie said. He would enthrall theton. He certainly didn’t look like any other lord.
She pressed her lips together and silently acknowledged that she was disappointed that even a liaison with him was out of the question. Celeste didn’t spend time with lords. She took a sip of her wine, enjoying the burn of it. Her mother had taught her that gentlemen were not to be trusted, ever. She pushed the dark thought away as she forced herself to stop perusing Monteith-no, Haven, she corrected herself again.
Derry’s wife, Sophia, smirked at her. “He will certainly send all the ladies on the marriage mart into a tizzy this season.”
Celeste feigned confusion, and Sophia giggled. “I love my husband, but even I can acknowledge that man exudes something that isn’t often seen in London.”
She forced herself not to glance at him again. “I’m sure he will find himself a proper English rose to cement his place in society.”
