Page 12 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Candace watched Nora pace. ‘Nerves are normal.’

Although she’d already agreed to an engagement, Nora was still anxious about having it announced so suddenly. ‘Not like this! I haven’t spoken with him since early this morning. I must have a private word with Ralston before mother announces our engagement.’

‘How?’ Candace’s delicate brow furrowed.

Nora tossed up her hands. ‘I don’t know. Can you help me find a way?’

Candace bit her lip. ‘Mother is as tenacious as a terrier to have her way.’

Nora felt nauseated. How on earth was she to agree to marry a man she barely knew? His proposal was logical and convincing, but now that time had passed and she could think, he was still a relative stranger. A stranger very skilled at kissing, but a stranger nonetheless.

Nora looked in the dressing glass. She’d been in a daze and had gone through the motions as she’d dressed. She’d allowed her mother to select her gown and her maid to style her hair in a coronet of auburn curls. The blue silk emphasized her breasts, her small waist, and the length of her legs. The colour brought out the green in her eyes. Rather than feel lovely, she felt like a horse at auction at Tattersall’s.

Panic settled in her stomach. ‘My corset is too tight. I fear I’ll faint.’

Candace clutched her hand. ‘It’s not the corset, darling, but the nerves. I will find a way for you to speak with the Earl beforehand.’

Nora squeezed her sister’s fingers as they exited the room and descended the grand staircase together. It was custom for everyone to meet in the drawing room before the doors to the dining room opened and the guests took their seats. Approaching the door, Nora leaned against the wall and glimpsed inside. Most of the house party guests had already gathered. A wealthy baron, Lord Grant, sat beside local gentry, Mr and Mrs Mercer, and a thirty-year-old widow, Mrs Charlston. Viscount Ardmore and the Marquess of Worth were with their wives.

Nora spotted Sir Simon drinking a glass of wine and speaking with one of the guests. Simon’s fair hair gleamed from the firelight, and he was dressed in a bottle-green coat with a paisley waistcoat. The signs of dissipation were evident—the red-rimmed eyes, the slightly yellow tinge of his skin. She’d never felt the slightest attraction towards him.

Her gaze went to the Earl of Ralston across the room. He leaned against the fireplace, one hand on the mantel the other holding a sherry as he spoke with his friend, Lord Adler. Dressed in a navy coat, buff trousers and Hessians that hugged muscular calves, Ralston looked striking, and her heart skipped a beat. In a rush, memories returned of her hand pressing against the breadth of his broad, naked chest. The mat of hair had teased her fingers and awakened her awareness of him as a man. His kisses and touch had easily caused her already heightened senses to spiral. She was left shivery and aching.

Her mother was in conversation with the Duchess of Everly. She smiled and nodded at something the Duchess said.

‘We’re lucky Mother is occupied,’ Candace whispered. ‘Wait here and I’ll fetch the Earl.’

Nora fidgeted outside the drawing room. Her nerves were in knots. If only she had an extra day to think things through, she would not be as anxious. Thankfully, her sister was successful and, minutes later, Ralston joined Nora outside.

His brow furrowed. ‘Miss Magarian, your sister said there was something important to address.’

She swallowed. ‘I apologize for any inconvenience, my lord. I only seek a word in private please.’

He looked at her with curiosity. ‘Now? It’s highly unusual.’

She knew he was right. Nonetheless, she still felt the need to speak privately. ‘So are our circumstances.’

He hesitated for a moment, and she worried he would reject her request, then he nodded. ‘Fine. The library?’

Nora was aware of the Earl behind her as she hurried down the hall to slip inside the library. He closed the door behind him.

The colourful spines of books on the tall mahogany shelves should have comforted her. Instead, her insides churned as she faced him.

‘Pray tell me what is so important,’ he said.

She took a deep breath, her breasts rising in her too-tight bodice. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

‘By this I assume you mean announce our betrothal tonight.’

She felt herself pale. ‘Yes.’

His gaze held hers, a startling intensity in the shimmering dark depths. ‘I do not have second thoughts. But I suspect you are nervous.’ He stepped forward and took her hands in his. She felt the warmth and strength of his fingers. ‘Our betrothal will be a simple announcement over dinner.’

‘Are you certain you know everything about me?’

He arched a dark eyebrow. ‘Such as?’

She took a breath. It was best if she did not mince words. ‘My father was not English and of Arab descent. Some members of the ton are not as accepting of my mixed blood.’ Her mother had suffered the most and she’d been on the outskirts of Society for her entire marriage. It was one of the reasons her mother sought titled husbands for her daughters and cozied up to both Ladies Ardmore and Worth at the house party. She wasn’t concerned if he accepted her heritage or not but thought it one more reason he would not want to move ahead with the announcement.