Marina’s quill flew across the parchment. A heartbroken lord with a mystery woman? She would get the story out of him one way or another. “We will need to keep the numbers even. So we must make sure we have enough women, too.”
“Lady Preston?” Evan suggested. “She’d enjoy this sort of event.”
“Oh! I adore her. And she’ll certainly find company at a house party.” The young widow had taken to pursuing trysts and sworn off love. Another perfect addition to tempt the men in attendance.
Evan chuckled. “If your goal is betrothals, you’re wasting your efforts. Lady Preston will never marry again.”
“Never say never, my love.” Marina smirked. The widow had loved her husband deeply, but that didn’t mean love wouldn’t strike twice.
“What about the Duke of St. Albans?” she mused, tapping the quill against her lips. “If I could convince him to attend, I’d be the envy of every hostess.”
Evan snorted. “Not a chance. You’d have better luck holding him at gunpoint.”
Marina felt something uneasy in her stomach as if perhaps her tea hadn’t settled well. It differed from what she’d felt earlier in the clearing. Her hand shot to her stomach, and she swallowed hard, fighting to soothe herself.
Evan’s sharp gaze flicked to her immediately. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She forced a steady breath, brushing off the memories of her abduction. It was nothing. Just old fears resurfacing.
Evan didn’t appear convinced—and frankly, neither was she—but she seized the moment to distract them both. “And I’ll take that bet.”
Her queasiness subsided. She could do this. By the evening, it would all be long forgotten, and she’d be deep into planning the party of the season.
He arched his brow. “Bet?”
“The Duke of St. Albans. I’ll get him here.” She took a bite of her biscuit, needing something in her stomach.
Evan shook his head, amusement tugging at his lips. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, love. But he will not show.”
“We shall see.” Marina smirked, feeling more like herself. “I also think we should invite Lady Juliet. She and Lady Eliza are close friends, and I like her a great deal.”
They carried on for a while longer, narrowing down the list of the most promising—and scandalous—guests. By the time they finished, Marina held up the parchment and scanned the names, not including those of their closest friends. Nine ladies. Ten gentlemen. A perfect recipe for intrigue, flirtation, and—if she had her way—a few unexpected matches.
“I need one more lady,” Marina said, sighing. “Perhaps I’ll see if one woman wishes to bring a friend.”
“You do realize you’re not matching up ten couples, love?” Evan chuckled.
“Of course not,” she said, waving him off. “But four or five seem perfectly reasonable.”
“Four or five? That’s ambitious even for you,” Evan said, rising from his chair and rounding the desk. His hands settled on her shoulders, his touch warm and grounding. “Though I must admit, watching you scheme is rather… enticing.”
Marina tilted her head back to look up at him, her pulse quickening at the heat in his gaze. “Is it now?”
His thumbs traced small circles at the base of her neck, and she felt herself melting into his touch. “Indeed. Although everything you do is enticing.” He pressed a kiss to her brow. “Though I still maintain that St. Albans won’t attend.”
“You clearly underestimate my powers of persuasion, love.”
“Perhaps a demonstration is in order,” Evan whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
Marina’s lips curved into a smile as she set down her quill. “And here I thought you were due for a punishment.” She turned in her chair, but the movement sent another wave of queasiness rolling through her.
Marina masked the sudden discomfort with a smile, but her fingers clutched the edge of the desk. And she silently hoped the nightmares wouldn’t also return that night.
Thankfully, the sensation passed quickly, leaving behind faint memories that seemed to hover at the edges of her awareness.
Evan frowned, his hands sliding from her shoulders to cradle her face. “Are you certain you’re well?”
She always felt safer when he was near, even if she had long proven she could defend herself.
