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“I’ll second you, if it comes to it.”
Sorin looked at Marston for a long moment, considering. “I appreciate that, old friend. It may very well come to that, but I intend to try another way first.”
“You should speak to Charles at once,” urged Marston. “Explain the situation and ask him for her hand. He will support you. It is the simplest way to eliminate the threat. Safely married, she can no longer be a target.”
“Charles is not the one who concerns me most. The lady herself has to accept my offer.”
Marston’s smile was a gentle reproach. “I still think you’re wrong about her. I think she loves you. Adores you, actually.”
“Perhaps, but she does not love me the way a wife should love a husband,” he answered with a grimace.
“Love can change, and marriage comes with certain expectations that will help you in that.” A knowing look lit Marston’s eyes. “She’ll want children. Marry her first and work on the rest later when you have the luxury of time.”
Blood rushed to Sorin’s face.
The other man chuckled at his discomfiture. “Rest assured the pleasures of the marriage bed will forever alter her view of you, my friend. And when she sees you as the father of her firstborn, they will alter yet more.” He sobered. “Regardless, I’m certain she would much rather marry you than that miscreant.”
“I’m not so certain she’s going to want to marry anyone, but I will do whatever is necessary to protect her.” Even if it meant deceiving her, though he would prefer another alternative.
The entries in the betting book were clear. Something was expected to happen soon. The Cleveland ball was but a week away. The night Eleanor planned to speak with Yarborough. As far as he was aware, she planned to attend no other events of significance between now and then. Every instinct told him the blackguard would make his move that night. He would be there, ready.
Chapter Seventeen
The Cleveland Ball
Eleanor drifted amid the crush, looking for Sorin. Again, she’d dressed to please him and wore the soft salmon pink he’d once claimed to be a favorite color on her. In spite of all her dashed hopes, she still wanted to be beautiful for him. After all, a miracle might occur to change his unromantic perception of her.
“May I have the honor of partnering you in the first dance, Lady Eleanor?”
Turning, she faced Lord Marston with a smile. She’d hoped to dance with Sorin first, but he was nowhere to be seen. “You may,” she told him, dipping a curtsy and taking his arm.
“Is Miss Caroline here tonight?”
The abruptness of his inquiry caught her by surprise. “I—yes, she is,” she answered with no small amount of trepidation.
“My apologies,” he said at once, looking embarrassed. “I’ve no manners tonight, apparently.”
“It’s quite all right,” she murmured, keenly aware of his pain, which was so similar to her own. “She deeply regrets what passed between you,” she ventured carefully.
“As do I. I love her still, you know.”
“Your affection is not unreciprocated,” she said, ready to brave Caroline’s wrath.
His eyes lit. “She told you this?”
“She did.” She laid her other hand on his arm, stopping their progress. “She is desolate over what happened. I worry for her. For you both. Won’t you go to her?”
He shook his head sadly. “Even if what you say is true, I fear she would lose her temper with me again, and that would do neither of us any good at all. Come, let us join the other dancers.”
Together they walked to the ballroom floor to join the forming lines. To her shock, she spied Sorin four couples down opposite none other than the raven-haired Lady Eugenia, one of the women to whom she’d introduced him a few weeks prior. The little heifer was looking at him with bold, appreciative eyes. Even more alarming, he seemed quite pleased with her company.
Pain lanced through her at the sight of his lopsided smile. It doubled when he broke into laughter. Sorin was not the sort to laugh easily, especially in public. If he was comfortable enough with Lady Eugenia to do so, it was a sure sign that he favored her greatly. Feeling ill, she tore her gaze away from the happy couple to regard Marston, who was peering at her with an expression of deep concern.
“Lady Eleanor, are you feeling well?”
She forced a smile. “I’m perfectly fine.” Fortunately, at that moment the music began, sparing her the need for further explanation. Though she tried and tried not to look at Sorin, she couldn’t help herself. When the cotillion brought her and Marston ’round on promenade between the lines, she kept her gaze straight ahead, refusing to look at Sorin.
Over and over, she and her partner wove about the other dancers in the complex steps. Over and over, she passed by Sorin and Eugenia. Over and over, her thoughts ran wild with suppositions.
