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“Prettier too, I’d wager, if she looks anything like you.”
“Much prettier than me,” Natalie answered honestly. “Bolder, more fun.”
“You admire your sister at your own expense.”
Did she? She’d long wished to be more like Emma. “She gets herself in a bit of trouble, but Triston sees to that.”
“Trouble?” he asked, lifting a brow.
“Mostly in good fun. The point, however, is that she is strong enough to defy my mother and smart enough to secure my uncle’s backing in her match to a Smith.”
“I see,” he said as he studied her profile.
She kept her eyes forward. She didn’t like this man, at least that’s what she told herself, but extolling her sister’s virtues shone a light on her own failings. And somehow, she wanted this man to think more of her than she did most men. Was it because he appeared interested in her? The real her—the woman beyond the quiet and shy Natalie.
“Your uncle was her ally, was he?” he asked.
“He was,” she answered, realizing she’d led them down another dangerous path. It wasn’t that her uncle was terribly invested in their happiness, more that he wished for both of his nieces to be out of his hair.
Which was not information she planned to share.
They reached the cordwainer’s just as her mother emerged from the shop, her look of irritation quickly disappearing once she spied Somersworth. “There you are, Natalie, and look who you’ve found.”
Somersworth gave her mother a winning smile as he offered his elbow to the countess, Natalie letting go of his other arm. “Good day, my lady,” he said with a wink, and he began to walk her mother down the street. “Are you off to another shop, or home bound?”
“Done for today, I think,” her mother said. “There is so much to do to prepare for Natalie’s season, but we’re making excellent progress.”
“Good to hear. And I was thrilled to learn that you’ll both be in London soon. I will be returning to the city shortly myself.”
Thrilled? He’d appeared annoyed.
Her mother gave Somersworth a beaming smile. “And I am glad to hear you’ll be returning to the city as well.”
“You must allow me to escort you to an event.”
Her mother gave her a meaningful glance backward. “We would be honored, my lord.”
That almost made Natalie roll her eyes. Did her mother want vomit on her shoes for Natalie’s first ball?
Red remained silent as the viscountess beamed at him.
Ethan had sussed out several facts, despite all that hadn’t been said. Both the viscountess and the viscount were eager to have Natalie wed. The fact that her uncle had supported Emma’s courtship with a Smith, the way her family had invited him to dinner despite their first meeting… They wanted him to court Red. Most advantageous.
He glanced back at her, giving her a wink, and he watched her mouth tighten, her eyes narrowing into slits. He clenched in awareness. She looked even sexier like that. When had he started liking a bit of disdain? And why could he picture her reprimanding him in bed?
He cleared his throat, leaning closer to the viscountess. “And might I offer Miss Blake a ride in my phaeton today? We’ll follow behind your carriage…”
The matron gave him a glowing smile. “She’d be very pleased, I’m certain.”
Red made the faintest snort, as though she weren’t pleased at all.
They reached the carriage platform, where Ethan helped load their packages into their waiting vehicle. A footman helped the viscountess in as Ethan turned to Natalie. “Ready, my dear?”
“I’m not your dear,” she said, notching her chin up.
A grin tugged at his lips. “Do you wish to know what I call you in my head?”
“No.”
