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A shiver raced down her arm when he accidentally brushed up against her shoulder. She hated these feelings she had for Matthew. Why couldn’t she control her reaction to him? No man before him had ever made her feel so off-centered.
Not even the man she was supposed to marry.
Chapter 6
The invitation to Lady Elizabeth’s impromptu literary salon had been a pleasant surprise. He knew she was one of Jennette’s friends. He assumed either Jennette was holding something over her head or Lady Elizabeth knew of his problem.
He actually hoped it was the former and not the latter. The last thing he needed was all of Jennette’s friends knowing his business. Clenching his fists in frustration, he felt the carriage roll to a stop. Someday this would all be over, his name returned to its proper position, his debts paid and his tenants safe. Then he could rebuild his wealth.
The image of Jennette with all those boxes almost teetering out of her arms refused to leave his mind. He couldn’t imagine how much money she must have spent yesterday. Far more than he could ever afford, he ruefully thought.
So the last thing he needed or wanted was a frivolous woman to spend money he didn’t have. He would ignore the rush of desire that overcame him every time she neared him. Overlooking her shouldn’t be a huge problem.
Except, he couldn’t take his gaze off her at Lady Cantwell’s dinner. She’d entertained all the people around them, drawing them into polite conversation. At times, he even thought he saw her glance toward him.
Inhaling deeply, he walked up the steps, pushed Jennette out of his mind, and wondered what type of reception he would receive tonight. An aging butler answered the door and held out his hand for a card. Matthew handed him the newly embossed card with his title.
“Come in, my lord. Lady Elizabeth is expecting you.” The wizened man opened the door and waved him in. “They are in the conservatory.”
Matthew followed the servant, admiring the white marble floor and paintings on the wall. Once his finances were in order he could restore his homes to their formal glory. One particular oil landscape was so alluring he halted his stride to take a better look at it. The scene of a river flowing through a hamlet was skillfully painted. He looked for the artist’s signature but only the initials “JMT” marked it.
Hearing conversation ahead, he knew they had reached the room. He stopped as the butler announced him at the threshold.
“The Earl of Blackburn.”
No matter how many times he heard it, he would never get accustomed to hearing that esteemed name used to announce him. The scoundrel, the black sheep of the family, and the man who had ruined the family name.
Lady Elizabeth turned and smiled at him.
“Lord Blackburn, welcome to my salon.”
“Thank you, my lady. I am very pleased to be here.” He bowed over her hand.
He scanned the room until he found Jennette sitting near a large orange tree. Her maroon gown accented her pale skin and dark hair, but it was her hair that held his attention. Tonight her raven tresses piled high on her head had white pearls woven throughout. His fingers itched to remove every hairpin and every pearl until her hair flowed down her back. He shook his head to clear his maddening thoughts.
Damn. He was attracted to the frivolous woman and every time he saw her, the draw worsened. This insane desire had to stop.
Sophie Reynard sat beside her, holding her hand and whispering. Could Miss Reynard be the woman he was supposed to meet tonight? While of times she was seen in the company of Lady Elizabeth, Lady Selby, and Jennette, as the rumored bastard daughter of some unknown earl she would hardly set his reputation straight.
He tore his gaze off the two women and looked around the room. Only about twenty people attended and he was acquainted with most of them. While no one had approached him yet, at least here he didn’t feel as if all were talking about him behind their fans.
His gaze fell upon Lord Somerton, who stood leaning against the wall, watching him. A smirk formed on Somerton’s lips as Matthew ambled toward him.
“Now, I’m quite certain I have seen it all,” Matthew said with a grin. “A literary salon? There is no gaming here.”
“I only attended as a favor to a friend,” Somerton replied in a quiet tone.
“That must be some favor,” Matthew said.
“You have no idea,” Somerton muttered.
Before Matthew could reply, a soft cough from behind him stopped him.
“Lord Blackburn, may I introduce Mrs. Whitmore and her daughter, Susan.”
Matthew turned to see Lady Elizabeth with two other women in tow. He sketched a bow over each of the ladies’ hands. “It is my pleasure to meet you both.”
“Perhaps you would do us the honor of escorting us to our seats,” Susan said, only to receive a slight elbow nudge from her mother.
