“Emma did.”
“Good. Featherstone is not the type of man you want to associate with.”
“I’ll be mindful to avoid him.”
“I am pleased to hear that, because I do not want this family’s reputation to be tarnished with a scandal.”
“Nor do I.”
He nodded, sparing her a glance. “This doesn’t change anything between us, Miss Bentley,” he said. “I still would prefer if you would pack up and go home.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you don’t belong here, and you know it.”
Miss Bentley pursed her lips together, then asked, “May I ask why you don’t like me?”
“I can assure you that it isn’t personal.”
“No?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Because it seems rather personal to me.”
“You would be mistaken.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I am not entirely fond of you, either.”
“Is that so?” he asked, amused.
“We share an equal disdain for one another,” she said with half of a shrug.
“I am glad there is honesty between us.”
“As am I, but don’t you think it would be best if we at least appear to enjoy one another’s company?”
“For what purpose?
“Because I am not going anywhere,” she replied. “There is too much at stake for me to just give up.”
“You are rather a stubborn young woman, are you not?”
“It is one of my many endearing qualities.”
“I would consider it more irksome than endearing.”
Miss Bentley glanced over at him and smiled, transforming her face into something extraordinary. “Careful, my lord, or you may discover that I am not just the country bumpkin you think I am.”
“I truly doubt that, Miss Bentley.”
6
Roswell leanedhis shoulder against one of the columns that framed the ballroom and watched as Miss Bentley danced with Cosgrove. That traitor, he thought. His friend knew his lowly opinion of Miss Bentley, but he asked her to dance anyway. What was worse was that he looked enamored, making him look like a blasted fool.
How could he possibly rid himself of Miss Bentley? He kept asking that question over and over. Roswell wasn’t entirely sure why her mere presence bothered him, but it did. Every time she came around, he felt himself acutely aware of her presence, which was absurd. Yet he couldn’t seem to pry his eyes away from her.
“Botheration,” he muttered under his breath.
Roswell had just uttered the word when Lord Townsend approached him looking amused.
“Why are you glaring at the dancers?”
