Page 26 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Yes, Eve thought. Wise. For if she allowed herself to worry about his lovers, she would worry all day—every day.

“Louisa simply couldn’t enjoy her good luck while it lasted,” Lady Benson said. “She got greedy.”

“Greedy?” Eve said.

“Yes. She thought she could trap Lord Rushton into marriage.” Eve stiffened and Lady Benson lifted her brows. “Oh, you are under the impression I think you trapped him. No. Unlike those who thrive on turning every piece of gossip against a lady, I find the truth much more interesting.”

She paused and Eve realized she was waiting in hopes of hearing more. Eve thanked heaven that Grace’s deception hadn’t come to light, then realized she might turn this conversation to her advantage.

“A case of mistaken identity,” she said.

Lady Benton’s gaze sharpened. “He mistook you for your sister.” Eve didn’t reply, letting silence condemn, and Lady Benton gave a little laugh. “Forgive me for saying so, Miss Crenshaw, while your sister is perfectly lovely, Erroll would never have married her.”

Eve stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you honestly think she would have held his attention?”

“You know very little of Grace, my lady—nothing, I daresay.”

“You may be right, but I know a great deal about him.” She nodded toward Lord Rushton.

“Indeed?” Eve said, and the lady laughed again.

“You have no cause to be jealous of me, Miss Crenshaw. Unlike Louisa, I know how to enjoy a man—especially a man who enjoys pleasing a woman—and I never make the cardinal mistake of asking for more than he is willing to give. That is why Lord Rushton and I have remained friends.”

“I see,” Eve said.

Lady Benton studied her. “I don’t think you do.”

“Pardon me for saying so,” Eve said, “but you presume a great deal for a lady who doesn’t know me or my family.”

“I don’t have to know you to recognize your reluctance to marry Rushton. If he preferred your sister that would be cause for discomfort. However, his interest in her could have been fleeting at best, so you need not fear that he will be pining for her while married to you.”

The conversation had taken a strange turn, and Eve wished mightily for Lord Rushton’s return. As if reading her mind, his eyes shifted onto her. Amusement curved his lips. He murmured something to Lord Adkins then, two champagne glasses in hand, returned to her side.

He handed one glass to Eve, then bowed over Lady Benton’s hand. “How nice to see you, Lady Benton.” He straightened. “Would you like some champagne?” He offered her his glass.

“No thank you, my lord.” She rose. “I am, in fact, returning to the ballroom. I promised the next dance to Lord Townes.” She looked at Eve. “Good evening, Miss Crenshaw, my lord.”

When she left, Lord Rushton sat down. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“Perfectly fine, my lord, and you?”

“Never been better.” He sounded like he meant it.

They drank champagne and exchanged small talk with other guests until he had finished off three glasses to her one. By the time they returned to the ballroom, he seemed not to have been the least bit affected by their short but heated encounter in the closet. She, however, still felt as if her legs were made of pudding, and she hadn’t been able to forget his encounter with the woman in the refreshments room—or the lady she’d spoken with.

Any woman who married the earl would have to grow accustomed to, and accept, such encounters. Tonight alone, two woman had made advances toward him, and only God knew how many others had approached him before that. Would the advances lessen once he married? Only if he discouraged them—and he had already said he wouldn’t.

“Are you all right, Miss Crenshaw?”

His voice broke into her thoughts. “Yes,” she replied. “Just a bit unnerved.”

“You should have had another glass of champagne.”

She shot him a reproachful look. “Liquor will not solve my problem. It was your fault we went in there.”

“That it was.”