Page 16 of Sin and Serendipity

“My parents were a love match,” she said quietly, mindful of the patrons coming and going around them. “And all five of my sisters married for love, as well. It’s become something of a Wrencroft family tradition, I suppose.” A wry smile briefly touched her lips before fading on a sigh. “I’m not as beautiful as my sisters, or as accomplished, and I…I’m terrified I’ll disappoint them. Especially my mother.”

There. She’d said it. She’d admitted it out loud.

It was oddly exhilarating, sharing her worst fear with a virtual stranger.

Lord Darrington said nothing for a long moment, his eyes thoughtful as he regarded her. “I understand the fear of disappointing one’s family,” he said slowly, as if weighing his words. “But love cannot be forced or fabricated. It can’t be willed into being, no matter how badly we want it. Sometimes we must wait for it, and even then, there is no guarantee it will come.”

His gaze held hers, unwavering, simmering with emotion she did not understand but very much wanted to. Even as it scared the wits out of her.

“Here you are, Eleanor!” Mrs. Wrencroft swooped in with characteristic exuberance, her cheerful tone a perfect complement to her bright yellow gown. “I wondered where you had wandered off to. Lady Darrington and I have been looking everywhere for the two of you.”

Ellie nearly rolled her eyes at the obvious lie. Her mother knew very well where she and the viscount had been, and she wouldn’t be a bit surprised to discover the two ladies had spent the entire time spying on them.

“Yes, Mama. Here we are.”

Lady Darrington appeared at her son’s side, a regretful smile on her lips as she gave his arm a pat. “I’m afraid we must leave now, darling. I have an appointment later this afternoon and do not wish to be late.”

“Of course, Mother.”

The foursome exchanged the requisite farewell niceties and, after one final glance at Ellie, the viscount turned and walked away, his mother’s arm looped through his.

Mrs. Wrencroft watched them go in silence, but her thoughts were obvious even without words. She wore the smile of a woman very well pleased with herself.

Ellie smothered a sigh and took her mother by the arm.

“Come along, Mama,” she said, tugging her toward the door. “I think it’s time we headed home, as well.”

Chapter Six

“But, Mama, we have enough flowers already,” Ellie protested, frowning at the empty basket her mother had just thrust into her hands. “The dining room is nearly overflowing with them, and I do not think we have the space for more.”

“Eleanor, please. I do not have time to argue with you.” Mrs. Wrencroft bustled around the drawing room, tidying up the already spotless space. “Go into the garden and collect another bunch of flowers for me. Now, please.”

Ellie sighed. “Yes, Mama.”

Perhaps it was for the best, she thought, as she stepped into the corridor and made for the stairs. Perhaps a moment or two alone in the sunshine and the quiet was exactly what she needed right now. It was surely preferable to murdering her mother.

Two days had passed since their trip to the art gallery, and Mrs. Wrencroft had been up since dawn readying their townhouse for a small dinner party she’d only decided to host this week. Two days ago, to be precise, mere minutes after returning home from the gallery.

Ellie suspected this was no coincidence, considering Lady Darrington and her two sons were featured on the guest list. Mrs. Wrencroft seemed determined to make her a viscountess and, for some reason, Ellie still hadn’t told her she wanted Robert’s brother instead.

Why hadn’t she told her yet? What was she waiting for?

And when had she started thinking of Lord Darrington as Robert?

The answer to the first two questions still eluded her, but the third one? That answer she did know, although she wished she didn’t.

It started this morning, after that ridiculous dream.

Ellie entered the garden, cheeks aflame as flashes of Robert’s bare chest flitted through her mind, the image as bright and vivid now as it was in sleep.

She’d dreamed of him last night, of his naked body, of his lips on her throat, and his hands, warm and seductive, caressing her everywhere.

And she’d liked it.

She’d awakened with her fists clenched around the bed sheets, sweat coating her burning skin, a throbbing ache between her thighs begging for satisfaction. And then she’d pleasured herself to thoughts of Robert’s glorious chest and clever hands and slow, heated kisses.

What in heaven’s name had gotten into her?