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Chapter 4
John was still laughing at the antics of the young lady who’d so innocently flashed her beautiful legs at him. Her expression had changed from frightened to shocked to dignified and finally angry in a matter of moments before she’d finally stalked out of the room. The headache forgotten, he settled comfortably into his chair. She was right; it had been too dark for him to see anything clearly, but the moonlight had outlined her perfect little calves beautifully, and he wished he could have seen more of her. It suddenly occurred to him that it had been years since he’d seen a woman in any state of undress. He was a cad for even contemplating such thoughts about a proper young lady. No doubt unmarried and innocent. Fantasies didn’t hurt anyone though, did they?
She had a lovely voice too. A familiar voice, he noted, but then he’d met plenty of ladies in the past couple of months. It could be any one of them, and there was little chance he’d ever find out who she was.Does it matter who she is?He was going to offer for the Duchess of Somerset and put an end to this social torture very soon. He thought about the duchess’s radiant face, her jovial laughter. It didn’t send a spark through him the way this young lady’s voice had. But that was for the best. If he didn’t care for her, he had a better chance of leaving her to her own devices. And that would ensure that she was safe from him.
John rose from the chair and walked out of the room just in time to hear the first strains of the waltz. He hastily entered the ballroom and saw his intended bride looking around. He hurried his step and a few moments later entered the dancefloor with her on his arm.
They danced in silence for several moments. She was a graceful dancer, and even though John hadn’t had the opportunity to practice, he didn’t feel clumsy around her.
“Your Grace,” he finally said. She turned her forest-green eyes on him. “I would like to call upon you tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”
He’d come to this ball with the intention of proposing to her, but something in him balked at the idea of doing it so publicly. He didn’t think it would be very romantic to ask her while they were dancing, unless he stopped and dropped to one knee. In which case, it would be over-the-top romantic and obviously out of place, since neither of them was in love with each other.
“I would like that,” she answered with a smile.
“We can go for a walk in the park,” he added.
“That would be lovely,” she offered shyly. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Actually, do you mind if I invite my friend to come with us? I wanted to introduce you to her tonight, but she seems to have vanished.”
“Of course.” He didn’t want anyone else being there when he proposed to her, but he supposed he could steer her away from her friend for a couple of minutes for a private conversation. Besides, it would be rude to decline. “I’d be delighted,” he added with a strained smile.
* * *
“Samantha!” Evie jumped from her settee as Sam entered the drawing room.
“Samantha? I think this is officially the first time you’ve ever called me by my full name,” Sam answered, smiling and hugging her friend.
“I’m so glad you are here,” Evie said, settling back down on the settee and drawing Sam with her.
“Of course, I am here. You asked me here. How could I refuse?”
“Well, you disappeared yesterday without meeting Lord Ashbury. I was afraid you would be unavailable today as well, and I have this feeling that he is going to propose,” Evie said in a rush.
“You do? He is?” Sam asked, her eyes widening. “What makes you think so? You barely know each other.”
“Yes, I know, but he had this very concentrated look on his face when he said he’d call on me today. Oh, God, I cannot accept a marriage proposal until you meet him.”
“Evie,” Sam said slowly, “I think it is going to take me a little longer than one meeting to ascertain whether a gentleman is suitable to share his life with my friend. And if he indeed is going to propose, I am going to get in the way.”
“No, Sam, please, I need you with me today. I shall feel better if you are nearby, and even if you won’t know it, I shall know right away whether you like him or not.”
“Very well,” Sam conceded. “If you say so. But, Evie, as much as I appreciate your desire for me to be the judge of this whole situation… Howyoufeel about Lord Ashbury is what matters.”
“I am a jumble of nerves,” Evie said, twisting her hands on her lap.
“Why the rush to marry him? Is something wrong in the household? Is your uncle not treating you right?” Sam whispered the last sentence, watching her friend intently.
Evie let out a huff of breath. “No, it’s none of that.” She airily waved her hand. “My uncle is a darling… Except—”
“Except what?” Sam scooted closer to her friend.
“Well, his wife arrived a few weeks back. She let go of my chaperone and started making changes around the house. Montbrook is different around her too, and he lets her do anything.” She shook her head. “This house doesn’t feel like my home anymore, and I just want to get out. And… Well, Lady Montbrook is very against Lord Ashbury and she has been pushing me toward some… questionable prospects.”
“Questionable how?”
Evie wrinkled her nose. “She arranged for several dinners in the past few weeks and invited titled but old gentlemen. Every time she seated me next to Lord Lansdowne.”
“Lord Lansdowne?” Sam echoed, aghast. “That’s who she is pushing you to marry? How in the world does she think you’ll concede to that?”
