She thought he was teasing, but then she saw his frown. “Are you worried?”
“Of course. I’ve seen your brother when he’s angry.”
Alex wouldn’t physically harm Holbrook. If he had allowed Mansfield to continue with his affairs—albeit begrudgingly—he certainly wouldn’t call Holbrook out for bringing her happiness. But it was undeniable Alex had the power to make the viscount’s life very uncomfortable.
“You can relax. When he learned you’d called yesterday, Charlotte told him you’re courting me. We’ll allow him to continue thinking that.”
“I am courting you.”
Her smile was sheepish. “I suppose you are.”
“I’ll speak to him. Let him know my intentions are honorable.”
“And then I’ll let him know that any decision about whether I’ll marry again rests solely with me.”
Holbrook leaned close until their shoulders touched. “I’ll do my best to make myself indispensable to you. I’ll devote my every waking hour to ensuring you are satisfied?—”
She covered her face with her hands, unable to look at him. The images conjured by his low, seductive voice—images of things she now knew they could do together—was almost too much to bear.
She peeked between her fingers when he laughed at her dismay, then dropped her hands and glared at him. “You are incorrigible.”
“Would you want me any other way?”
No, she wouldn’t. God help her, but she might want this man just a little too much.
The carriage had slowed to a crawl, and she realized that while they’d been talking, the park had begun to fill with other vehicles. She glanced around, wondering if any of their friends were here. It was a shock to realize that most of the men present were all but staring at them.
She glanced at Holbrook and lowered her voice. “We seem to be attracting a lot of attention.”
One corner of his mouth kicked up in his lopsided smile. “That’s hardly surprising given I’m here with the most desirable woman. They’re probably plotting my demise so they can get to you.”
He was so ridiculous that she couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Don’t worry—I’ll protect you.”
Chapter 10
Holbrook’s carriage came to a halt in front of the Clarington town house. But instead of climbing down, he stared at the carriage door, examining the odd sense of restlessness that had settled over him. It took him several seconds to realize that the churning feeling in his stomach meant he was actually nervous.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this apprehensive. Probably when he’d arrived at Eton at the age of thirteen and come face-to-face with the reality that for the foreseeable future, he’d be spending more time at the school than at home with his family.
It was damn annoying.
With a deep breath, he did his best to ignore the inconvenient emotion and exited the carriage.
When he’d had dinner here a few days earlier, he’d been one of many people. Tonight he was the sole guest, and Clarington would be judging his worthiness to court his sister. Holbrook knew his intentions were honorable, but because of the misery Lucy’s first husband had caused her, he’d need to prove himself to her brother.
He liked Clarington, who was a decade older than him. But he’d be lying if he said the man didn’t intimidate him.
He lifted the heavy brass ring of the door knocker and let it fall against the brass plate. Clearly the action hadn’t been necessary—the butler admitted him immediately and was probably already aware Holbrook’s carriage had arrived.
The older man informed him that the family was waiting for him in the drawing room. He ignored the irrational urge to pull out his pocket watch to check whether he’d kept them all waiting.
He thanked the man and crossed the few steps to the drawing room, maintaining a measured pace as he took in another deep, steadying breath.
This was just another dinner party after all. He couldn’t recall how many he’d been to over the years. But never before with the family of the woman he wished to marry. They’d be judging everything he said and did.
It appeared he wasn’t going to be able to will away his nerves. He’d heard a well-known actor once say that he handled his stage nerves by telling himself they weren’t a sign of fear. That they were, in fact, a sign he was excited about taking that first step out onto the stage. Once that step was taken, he was committed to the play and soon became the character, and all his fears were forgotten.
Holbrook could do this. He wasn’t afraid of Clarington. He was merely excited to be taking this first important step toward his future with the woman he wanted to marry. The swooping sensation in his gut was just an invisible manifestation of his anticipation.
