Page 34 of How to Start a Scandal

‘Why the devil have you not?’

Rawley seemed to shrink into himself. ‘I’m afraid I... I won’t know what to say. That I’ll miss a dance step.’

‘You’ve done these dances dozens of times.’ Seth glanced at the open floor where a country dance was now in full tilt. ‘Go to her now so you might speak at length before the next set begins.’

Rawley shook his head. ‘I forgot my card.’

‘What card?’ Seth asked.

‘The card he carries with dance steps upon them so he doesn’t forget them.’ Kentworth threw a hand over Rawley’s shoulder.

Rawley, who usually tolerated Kentworth’s obnoxious behaviour more than most, scowled at his friend and shrugged the Marquess away.

‘Come now, Rawley, you needn’t be so missish about the whole business of it.’ Kentworth drank so deep from his lemonade, Seth was certain he had added a flask of flavouring to it. ‘Why did you do this to him, Dalton?’

‘Do what to him?’ Seth demanded.

Kentworth rolled his eyes. ‘Pulled him from the comfortable shell of his life. I’ve never seen the poor bastard in such a state. Look at him. He’s gone all pink about the face.’

Seth turned his attention to Rawley, who indeed had become a bit discoloured.

Kentworth kept his hand wrapped around the glass of lemonade and removed his forefinger long enough to point at Seth without releasing the beverage. ‘You should apologise.’

Was Kentworth truly the man Seth had once considered one of his closest friends? Had Seth really acted similarly in his youth? The answer tightened into a ball of self-disgust in his gut.

He glowered at Kentworth. ‘Forgive me, Rawley. I apologise for hand-delivering you the knowledge that one of the most sought-after ladies of the ton is infatuated with you. I’m sorry to have placed the burden of an easy, agreeable match upon you.’

With that, Seth departed and made his way to the person who he truly did owe an apology to for how the evening had gone thus far. Caroline.

She stood in the supper room with a bit of dry cake.

‘You must be forlorn to be eating that.’ He indicated her plate.

She sighed and set it aside. ‘Is it my gown?’

Her...gown? He looked down at the white frock adorned with red ribbons and silk twisted things he assumed were meant to be flowers. It wasn’t unattractive.

‘What’s wrong with your gown?’ he asked.

‘That’s what I’m asking you.’ She sighed again.

He gave a helpless shrug. ‘I...think... I mean...’

She watched him, her brows raised in expectation.

‘It’s a gown.’ He spread his hands wide. ‘It’s...pretty.’

Her head fell back in exasperation. ‘You’re no help at all.’

Good God, what did she expect from him with this conversation?

‘The flower things are a nice touch.’ He waggled a finger at one of the silk ribbons. ‘I dare say.’

She gave him an incredulous look and chuckled. ‘Thank you for trying.’ She shook her head and her dark curls swayed from side to side. ‘What did I do to put him off?’

Him.

Rawley.