Page 25 of Dare to Risk it All

Only Raphe was quiet, picking at his food and not paying much attention to the conversations buzzing about him. He did not take any wine at dinner, and Greer wondered if it troubled him to abstain. There were no heated looks in her direction, though, or if there were, he was more successful at being discreet about it tonight. He was clearly preoccupied and looked so unhappy that her heart went out to him. She wanted so much to help him. His brothers’ description of his character during their ride had confirmed to her that there was far more to him than he let on. The anger he’d shown Sylvester had not really been aimed at his brother at all, it seemed, but at himself. He believed he was a failure and their difficult situation his fault.

Sylvester diverted Greer’s attention by calling her name.

“You will, won’t you, Miss Cadogan?”

Greer blinked, wondering what she had missed. They would think her woolly-headed indeed if she kept missing the thread of the conversation. “I beg your pardon, Mr Cootes. I am afraid I was elsewhere. What will I do?”

“Dance with me at the ball tomorrow?”

Greer smiled, unable to avoid a surreptitious glance at Raphe as she answered. “I should be delighted to.”

Raphe’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“I am so looking forward to it,” Elspeth said, her eyes dancing with happiness. “Arabella is such fun, it’s bound to be a hoot.”

“It will be lively if Bainbridge is involved,” Sylvester observed dryly.

“You know Lord Bainbridge?” Greer asked with interest.

Sylvester gestured to a footman who came to refill his wineglass. “Heavens, no. Only what I’ve read of him. I’ll say no more, though, as I believe he’s a good friend of yours, Roxborough?”

Dare nodded and returned a grin. “The best of friends, yet I’ll not deny he’s a madman. He’s much better behaved since he married Arabella,” he added generously.

Elspeth raised her eyebrows, and he laughed.

“Everything’s relative, love. Compared to how he behaved before he married, he’s positively angelic.”

Sylvester spoke again, turning the conversation back once more. “And you, Lady Aisling. Do you enjoy dancing?”

Aisling looked rather like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights, stiffening imperceptibly, her large brown eyes widening. She looked down at her plate, where she was nervously cutting a slice of beef into smaller and smaller pieces.

“If I have an agreeable partner,” she replied, her voice soft and tentative.

An incorrigible smile flickered at the corner of Sylvester’s lips, giving Greer an odd pang in her chest as she recognised Raphe in the expression. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, persuasive. “And will you dance with me?”

There was a telling silence, but it would have been dreadfully difficult for Aisling to refuse him in front of everyone.

“Of course,” Aisling returned, polite as always, but she did not meet his gaze.

“I shall look forward to it,” Sylvester said, never taking his eyes from her.

The conversation moved on again, with much discussion about tomorrow night’s ball at Royle House. Bainbridge had invited everyone to stay for two nights with them, and Elspeth entertained everyone as she described the opulent building and the marquess’s eccentric father, the duke. Alana and Oliver had their heads together, intent on their conversation and, knowing her little sister, Greer could only wonder what mischief the devil was planning. She was too young to attend the ball, which had thrown her into a temper, because Ollie was going. Greer made a mental note to keep an eye on her. Aisling kicked Greer under the table to get her attention.

“Come to my room after dinner,” she whispered.

Greer raised her eyebrows in query, but Aisling just shook her head. Greer nodded her agreement as she would not get an answer now, wondering what it was Aisling wanted to say to her in private.

Once she had changed and readied for bed, Greer donned her dressing gown. Aisling’s room was next to her own, so she did not have to fret about wandering the house in her nightclothes. Greer gave a soft tap on the door, and Aisling answered it at once, exclaiming happily. She had braided her thick, dark hair in a neat plait, ready for bed, and wore a pretty white nightgown embroidered with daisies, the picture of sweet innocence.

“Come in,” she said, tugging Greer inside.

“What is it?” Greer asked.

“A surprise,” Aisling said, giving her an impish smile as she hurried to her wardrobe and tugged out a large hatbox. “You remember I stayed at Beverwyck for a couple of days before I joined you?”

“Yes,” Greer said, making herself comfortable on Aisling’s bed.

“Well, I saw Cat when I was in town, and she said I had to do this as soon as possible. Oh, and then we have to send it back, so she can take it to Grace.”