Page 3 of Sin and Serendipity

Ellie’s nose scrunched up, as if she found his words distasteful. “‘Fall in love with someone else’?” she said. “You make it sound as if falling in love is as simple as—as falling out of a tree.”

He shrugged. “I have two sisters. They were tossed in and out of love more times than I can remember.”

“Well,” she said with a sniff, “my heart is not so fickle, and I am not so quick to give up, either. Now, if you will excuse me, my lord, I must return to the ballroom before my absence is noted.”

She bobbed what could only be described as a begrudging curtsy, and then headed for the door, brushing past him in a flurry of apple-scented ire.

Robert watched her leave, admiring the subtle sway of her generous hips, the way her dark curls bounced with every step. She really was delectable. Pity she thought she was in love with Freddy.

Speaking of his wayward, pain-in-the-arse brother…

With a resigned sigh, Robert pushed off his desk and made for the gardens, forcing the intriguing Miss Wrencroft with the delectable hips from his mind.

For now, at least.

Chapter Two

Raucous music and dueling colognes greeted Ellie upon her return to the Darringtons’ crowded ballroom. With some effort, she managed to smooth the frown from her lips before squaring her shoulders and pushing into the crush, scanning the room for her mother’s enormous purple hat.

Mrs. Wrencroft would not be pleased with her, she knew. She’d been gone longer than she’d intended to be, far too long for her absence to have gone unnoticed by her eagle-eyed mother.

Ellie drew in a fortifying breath. She was in no mood for a lecture, especially not after that disastrous encounter with the viscount. Freddy’s brother, the viscount.

Her cheeks heated anew. She’d never met Viscount Darrington before tonight, but she’d been led to believe he was a bit of a snob who fancied himself too important to mingle with the ton at society functions. She hadn’t thought him snobbish at all. In fact, she’d found him rather pleasing, until he’d implied she wasn’t good enough for his brother.

Her forced smile faltered as she circled a cluster of giggling young ladies, and she rallied to find it again. Why, precisely, wasn’t she good enough for Freddy? Yes, she was unusually tall, and a little on the plump side, but even so, she knew her looks were pleasing enough, plain brown hair and eyes notwithstanding.

More importantly, she was kind and reasonably clever, and the youngest daughter of a gentleman of good standing and reputation. Surely that was good enough for a viscount’s brother?

Lord Darrington himself had called her amiable and uncommonly pretty, which confused her no end. Why had he paid her such a compliment if he found her lacking? Was he being insincere when he said it?

And why did she care?

“There you are, Eleanor!”

A hand shot out and grabbed Ellie’s arm, startling a squeak out of her.

“I was beginning to grow worried,” her mother scolded. “I even sent your father off to look for you. Where on earth have you been?”

Ellie smiled innocently and tried not to squirm beneath her mother’s probing gaze. “I’m sorry, Mama. I was...” Her mind scrambled for a plausible excuse. “...in the ladies’ retiring room. I became overheated and I—”

Mrs. Wrencroft waved the words away, her gloved hand fluttering the plum-colored plumes adorning her ostentatious hat. She’d given her dark hair and even darker eyes to all her daughters, but where Ellie was tall like her father, her mother was petite, and more than a little plump.

“Never mind, my dear,” Mrs. Wrencroft said. “You’re here now, and that is what matters.” She leaned in close. “Lord Groverly asked after you a few minutes ago. I think he meant to ask you for a dance. Let us hope he makes another attempt before the evening is through.”

Ellie grimaced. “Let us hope he does not,” she grumbled under her breath.

“Lord Groverly is an eligible, wealthy earl,” her mother said firmly. “You should be flattered by his attentions. And do stop frowning, Eleanor. Young ladies looking for husbands ought never to frown.”

To Ellie’s mind, the prospect of marrying a loud, bombastic man who smelled of onions would make most girls frown, even if he was an earl. But she wisely kept this opinion to herself and tried to appear appropriately contrite instead. “Yes, Mama.”

Mrs. Wrencroft reached over and gave Ellie’s hand a squeeze. “I know you are not overly fond of Lord Groverly, and I’m not asking you to promise yourself to the man, but so far, he is the only gentleman to show an interest in you, and I think it would be unwise to discourage him too early.”

Ellie let out a little sigh. Her mother was right, of course. She’d made her debut nearly two months ago, and while no one could call her first Season a disaster, neither was it a rousing success, and she was fairly certain she knew what the problem was.

She was nearly a head taller than most men, a fact which seemed to repel more than it attracted, as evidenced by the conspicuous dearth of interested males. Not that she wanted to attract droves of gentlemen. She wasn’t greedy. She only wanted to attract the one.

Her gaze swept over the room in search of Freddy, finding him near the rear doors conversing with a group of gentlemen, his fashionably-cropped black curls gleaming beneath the candlelight like a beacon.