Page 8 of The Mister I Married

“Oh, we would love to!” Miss Whitcomb said, clasping her hands in her lap as if to contain her excitement. “Wouldn’t we, Alex?”

Mr. Whitcomb met his sister’s gaze, and Emmy had the distinct feeling he wanted to refuse her, but after a moment’s pause, he capitulated. “Of course we would,” he said mildly, and then, as if remembering his manners, he turned to Emmy’s mother and said, “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Keswick.”

“Oh, excellent,” the lady replied, her eyes gleaming in a way that made Emmy’s own eyes narrow. “Shall we go now?”

Lady Keswick rose to her feet and the others followed suit, heading for the drawing room door.

“There was never any talk of a walk in the park,” Emmy whispered to her mother.

“Wasn’t there?” she asked, all innocence. “I could have sworn we discussed it yesterday.”

“There was no such discussion, as you well know.” Emmy’s brows dipped. “Please tell me you are not matchmaking, Mother.”

But Lady Keswick’s only response was an enigmatic smile.

Alex followed the trio of women down the townhouse steps to the pavement below, suppressing a sigh as he tugged at the brim of his beaver hat to shield his eyes from the glaring afternoon sun.

“What a glorious day,” Lady Keswick announced with a cheerful smile before popping open her frilly white parasol. She turned left and led the foursome up Grosvenor Street’s bustling pavement, leaving Alex and Lady Emmaline to follow after her and Tess, whom she’d commandeered by the elbow.

Not that his sister seemed to mind. Indeed, she looked as pleased as punch, chattering on about something or other, her free hand gesturing animatedly to punctuate her words while the marchioness smiled her encouragement.

The sight sent a wash of contentment over him, relieving some of his irritation over this unplanned—and unwelcome—walk.

Perhaps Tess had been right when she’d suggested they pay a call on Lady Emmaline today. Being seen out and about with a marchioness would certainly do his sister’s reputation a fair bit of good. And if she should befriend said marchioness’s daughter in the process, well, so much the better.

His gaze found the back of Lady Emmaline’s straw bonnet, and he watched her for a moment as she said something which made the other ladies laugh. A niggling of guilt slipped up his spine, but he shoved it away.

He was hardly the first man to foster an association for the benefits it could bring, but even so, it did not sit entirely well with him. He was not a mercenary man by nature, preferring to be open and honest wherever he could.

All the same, his family was the most important thing in his life, and he would do whatever he could to ensure his sister’s happiness.

Including encouraging friendships that would improve her social standing.

He sighed. Best get this apology over and done with then, eh?

“Lady Emmaline?”

He quickened his pace to reach her side, and she turned to look at him, surprise lighting her large gray eyes, the uncommon shade accentuated by the muted purple of her gown.

“Yes, Mr. Whitcomb?”

He cleared his throat, flicking a glance at his sister and the marchioness to ensure they weren’t listening, and then he said, “I…owe you an apology.”

Her dark brows flicked up and her wide mouth parted slightly. “Oh?”

He cleared his throat again. “For my…gruffness last night.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him before turning to face forward again.

The seconds ticked by, with only the low murmur of chatter ahead and the clatter of carriage wheels on the street to break the silence, until…

“Well?”

Alex glanced over to find her watching him with those big, inquisitive eyes, and it took him a moment to realize what it was she was asking of him.

Wanted the words, did she?

He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, then finally, with a lift of one shoulder, said, “I apologize.”