Rising from his place, Edward rounded the table to find another shot. “I hope to push him off the edge soon because his self-interest is appalling to me.”
Taking up a glass of sherry on a table nearby, Felton said, “I don’t think a warning shot will persuade him to run to Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell for a ring.”
“With the state of his finances, I expect the only thing he can afford is the ring off his velvet drapery,” Edward muttered after a misplaced shot. “But this is a matter of honor instead of finance.”
Felton’s shot failed to sink a red ball into a pocket and Edward tried to line up his next shot but found the angle awkward. Slowly, he circled the table and tried to find another angle, but where he stopped placed him right in line with Rutledge.
The man was glaring death and brimstone towards him and Edward knew that if the ground opened up and swallowed him, it would be the best night of his life.
Instead, Edward lined up his shot and while keeping his eyes on the lord, hit his mark into the pocket with a resoundingclack. He hoped Rutledge got the message.
Two evenings later, Edward watched the entrance to the Moyet’s ballroom like a man starved of water looked for rain.
For the last two nights, he’d thought of little else but Alice Winslow and that scintillating kiss. He would not—could not—even admit to himself the times he had taken himself into hand, with that kiss in mind.
He remembered her soft body pressed against his, the feel of her curves beneath his hand, and the taste of her lips on his; all of it had capitulated him to some of the most intense releases he had ever had.
Now, he needed to see Alice and tell her about the situation with Rutledge, perhaps in a quiet corner or during a waltz on the floor. While flicking a pocket watch open to check the time, he wandered over to the champagne table and took a glass.
How do I tell her I have failed? Do I tell her that part or do I say I am making ground?
The doors above the short stairs opened and the butler announced,
“Presenting, Mrs Agatha Thorpe, Miss Eliza Thorpe, Miss Alice Winslow and Miss Penelope Winslow.”
With the glass to his lips, Edward’s eyes were fixed on Alice and his gaze roamed over her with slow deliberation; God’s bones, she was gorgeous. Her ivory gown clung to her exquisite bosom and slender waist, flaring into full skirts while her golden hair was arranged in cascading ringlets; she looked like a princess.
In contrast, her cousin wore a gown that appeared to be a size too small, and her breasts filled the top of the garment more than they should. It fell about her slender frame, her silver slippered shoes peeking out from beneath the hem.
Clearly she seeks attention. She will not get it from me.
He waited while they descended the stairs and the aunt made a turn around the room with her daughter on her arm, leaving Alice and Penelope to sit at the sidelines.
Doubling back to the refreshment table, he picked up two filled flutes and carried them over to where they were sitting and talking between themselves.
“Ladies,” he greeted.
Alice looked up, her cheeks going faintly pink, “Your Grace.”
She made to stand but he shook his head, deterring her from making the unnecessary curtsy. Frankly, he didn’t need it norwant it. Handing off both glasses, he began, “How are you two this evening?”
“Very well, Your Grace,” Penelope said. “I hope you are the same.”
“Eh, middling,” he replied. “I do regret to tell you, Benedict might be late tonight as apparently, onedoesneed to write an ethics paper in order to pass a class.”
“How is he in his academics?” Alice asked. “Are they worrying him?”
“No,” Edward said. “He is a smart lad, but he is also very much of a procrastinator and I hate to see my past surging in him now.”
Her lips twitched, “I fail to see you as an unstudious pupil.”
“I would stay up to midnight roughhousing with my fellow men in the halls and stay up for six hours to write a paper neededthatday,” Edward snorted. “But I was one-and-twenty, so you may give me the allowance of being a reckless lad who had a taste of too much freedom.”
“And what was that freedom like?” Alice asked.
He extended his hand, “If you would like to make a turn with me around the room, I will tell you.”
Before agreeing, Alice looked at Penelope who shook her head accommodatingly. “Go,” she told Alice, “I will be fine.”
