“Not what—who.” He took off his hat again, this time raking his fingers through his hair, then set it back on his head. “I went to see Lady Beresford to renew my proposal, but Miss Corbet greeted me in her stead.”
“Ah, the lady at whom you were staring the other night.”
“Yes, and I was not staring at her. She merely happened to pass in front of my line of vision.”
Hawksworth linked arms with Nick. “You sound as if you could use a drink.”
“I’m not sure that would help.” Which was a sad state of affairs when one thought of it.
“Then perhaps this will. The betting at White’s has it Lord Oliver will be wed to the lady before the Season’s out.”
“White’s? I thought you belonged to Brooks’s.”
“I have membership in both clubs. Which is how I happen to be so knowledgeable.”
“Who the hell is Lord Oliver?”
“The gentleman you saw her dancing with.”
Nick wanted nothing more than to plant someone a facer. “That popinjay? She’ll run rings around him.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. The man has been known to have a nasty temper.”
Blast!“Then he’d damn well better keep it to himself. If he lays a hand on her . . .”
“Why do you care?” Hawksworth asked in an amused drawl.
“I don’t bloody care.” Nick glanced around hoping someone would do something deserving of being beaten. “I don’t hold with abusing women, any woman. Not even Silvia.”
“Silvia, is it?”
“I mean Miss Corbet. God blast it, I’ve known her all my life. Besides, it would upset her father.”
“Hmm, we can’t have that.”
Nick stopped and glared at his friend. “Would you stop sounding as if nothing matters?”
An amused gleam entered Hawksworth’s eyes. “My dear boy, one of us must maintain a fashionably bored demeanor, and you’re doing a miserable job of it. I would take you to my club, but I’m afraid you’d pick a fight. Come along to Jackson’s with me instead. At least if you hit someone there, they’ll be expecting it.”
“Good idea.” Pummeling someone was just what he needed. Nick allowed his friend to guide him to Bond Street. “I don’t understand why I allow her to needle me. You’d think I’d know better by now.”
“Just a thought, mind you, but is it possible that you wish to be in the lady’s good graces and never quite manage it?”
“Ridiculous. I couldn’t care less what she thinks of me.” That was a bald-faced lie. “I’d just like to be able to best her in an argument. Is that so much to ask?”
“Beresford, at some point someone must have told you never to argue with a lady. It is absolutely pointless. They will invariably talk rings around one and never make any sense while they are doing it. They end up getting exactly what they want, and the gentleman ends up at his club, wondering how it happened. No wonder you act as if you’re ready for Bedlam.”
The only problem with that line of thinking was that Silvia could not only talk rings around him but she could out-maneuver him as well. She needed a man who would stand up to her. But if Lord Oliver meant her harm, he’d have to go through Nick first. Someone must watch out for her. Not every man had his tolerance for her foolishness, or deserved her. If only he knew what the bloody devil was going on in her pretty head.
CHAPTER TEN
Rupert glanced at his pocket watch as he hurried down the steps of Whitehall. It was the middle of the afternoon. His first stop would be Lady Telford’s house. He hoped there was a chance Vivian had not given up on him. Hailing a hackney, he climbed in.
Realistically, he couldn’t be too upset about the time the negotiations had taken. After hours of haggling, he’d won the vote to push forward his bill to the full House of Lords. Rupert hoped Vivian would be as happy as he was.
Several minutes later, he jumped down to the pavement, threw some coins to the driver, and took the steps two at a time. A footman answered his knock, and Rupert presented the man his card. “Is Lady Beresford at home?”
“Sorry, my lord. She left not a half hour ago.”
