Page 94 of One Night with an Earl

Penelope’s eyes grew wide as she looked at her mother. “Admonished! I must hear all the details.”

“Another time.” Lady Malvern took her daughter by the arm and steered her away.

“Mother, you never told me about your childhood friend,” Penelope said.

Lady Malvern snorted. “She’s foxed and does not know what she says.”

Penelope met Ana’s eyes, and they both chuckled. An instant camaraderie returned between them. Happiness swelled in Ana’s chest, and she hoped things could return to normal between the two of them.

Penelope fell behind to match pace with Ana. “Do not think this changes anything,” Penelope whispered, her smile disappearing.

Ana’s step faltered. “Penelope, we need to talk. I fear I was not sympathetic after what happened between you and the lieutenant.”

“It no longer matters.”

“Of course it does,” Ana argued.

“Our falling out has shown me my errors.”

“You are not making sense.”

“I’m making perfect sense,” Penelope said. “I have come to realize that I am responsible for my own happiness, no one else.”

What on earth did that mean?

Before Ana could ask, a gentleman approached and asked Penelope to dance. Penelope eagerly accepted the invitation, and she smiled coolly at her partner as they met and separated in a country set. As Ana watched the couple, misgivings formed in her gut. Something was wrong.

What was the girl up to?

Lady Malvern approached Ana. “See? Penelope is back to her old self. We shall find her a match yet,” Lady Malvern said.

After all the time she’d spent with her charge, Ana knew the girl well, and she was less convinced.

Her ladyship scanned the ballroom. “Where is Lord Drake? No doubt he will ask her to dance.”

Ana looked around for Oliver, but he was not in sight. “Perhaps the earl was not on the guest list.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Lady Longston is a popular society hostess, and after inheriting the earldom and all the wealth that accompanies it, Lord Drake would have been invited.”

The way she spoke of Oliver reminded her of one of her father’s prized hunters up for auction at Tattersall’s. Was that how Oliver felt after his brother’s death? Sought after for his wealth and title, never for himself? Even though he’d been managing the earldom’s ledgers and estates, he’d never expected to be thrown into the role of earl.

Then she saw his tall figure, dashing in navy coat and trousers. He was talking to a group of men, but his gaze scanned the crowd. Their eyes met across the ballroom, and she feared everyone could sense the current between them.

Unlike the ambitious society matrons and giddy debutantes, Ana wanted him for an entirely different reason. For himself.

Her breath caught. In that moment, she acknowledged the unmistakable tightening of her chest—like a smattering of butterfly wings—each time she looked at him.

She loved him.

Her heart catapulted in her chest as she watched him. How could she have allowed herself to fall in love? For a woman whose solitary existence had kept her alive for the past ten years, it was frightening and exhilarating at once.

At their prolonged eye contact, he arched a dark eyebrow in obvious question.

Ana tore her gaze away. A sliver of fear raced down her spine, and she drew in a ragged breath. She could never have him, not truly. It was a slippery slope into despair. She’d never meant to fall in love, never meant to expose her heart.

“I am in need of a bit of fresh air,” Ana said.

Lady Malvern’s attention was entirely on her daughter on the dance floor. “Go.”