Izzy peered around Anglesey to find the widowed countess, cheeks flushed, standing at the entrance to the room, fingers twisted in her midnight skirts. Her dark gaze met Izzy’s and her nostrils flared, disapproval fairly emanating from her.
“Leave, my lady,” Anglesey directed without even facing the countess. “You have said enough.”
“Of course.” Her lips compressed into a thin line of outrage, the glare she directed toward Izzy saying more than mere words ever could. “I do hope you will consider our discussion, my lord.”
Their discussion? It was painfully clear that the widowed countess had urged Anglesey not to marry Izzy. But who had been the second person? Oh, why did it matter? It was not as if she wanted to marry the earl, anyway.
Anglesey turned toward the doorway at last. “I have already considered it, and I disagree. Good evening, my lady.”
The countess dipped into a reluctant curtsy. “I feel it imperative to mention the improper nature of this meeting.”
“Surely not any more improper than any of the others,” Anglesey countered, his voice cutting. “Go now, my lady. Your presence as duenna here is quite unnecessary.”
The implication of his dismissal was not lost on Izzy. And if the pinched expression on the countess’s face was any indication, it had not been on her, either. Nor did she appreciate the earl’s allusion to the difference in age between Izzy and the widow, which she would guess to be at least ten years.
“I understand.” With a regal nod, the countess took her leave of the chamber, deliberately, or so it seemed to Izzy, leaving the door ajar.
Issuing a sound of annoyance, Anglesey stalked across the chamber, then snapped the portal closed and threw the latch into place before turning to Izzy once more. “I must apologize for the intrusion.”
“You needn’t do so.” The intrusion was an excellent reminder of why Izzy was here. “I cannot help but think her ladyship is right, supposing she is one of the two who urged you not to marry me.”
It was clear to Izzy the reason why the widow was so adamantly opposed to their union; she wanted Anglesey for herself, in whatever fashion she could have him.
Was the other person who had advised him not to marry her also a woman? She would not be surprised. After all, she had been repeatedly warned Anglesey was a rakehell. She knew enough gossip that supported the claims.
Another reason not to go through with the wedding, she told herself sternly.
“What she wants is immaterial,” Anglesey said, moving toward her with that flawless elegance of his. “What anyone wants but the two of us, for that matter, means less than nothing.”
His proximity was once more distracting. As was the manner in which he was looking at her, the intensity positively scorching. For the last few weeks, he had been politely reserved. They had spent little time together, it was true. But the gentlemanly, polite earl who had attended her, always chaperoned by either Ellie or Mama, was a far cry from the man before her now.
“You cannot wish to marry me,” she said, irritated by the breathless quality of her voice. She very much wanted him to believe her unaffected.
She very much wanted toremainunaffected.
“Why can I not?” He smiled, a true smile, his dimple appearing. “The longer I have been able to consider the notion of taking a wife, the more appealing it is to me.”
“You could find another quite easily,” she pointed out. “You are a charming, handsome earl.”
“I misspoke.” He clasped his hands behind his back, studying her in that intense way of his. “It is not the prospect of any wife which appeals to me. It is specifically you.”
He could have knocked her over with a feather. “Me? But why? You deplore the way I dress, you said I am dreadful at kissing, and I forced myself upon you at a ball, causing this wretched mess in which we are currently entangled. If you do not already resent me now, I can assure you that you shall soon. I have been thinking of little else for the last few weeks, and no matter how many times I attempt to persuade myself this marriage must be done, all the reasons why it should not happen are every bit as strong, if not more so.”
“You have been thinking, have you?” He came closer, until their bodies were nearly pressed flush together.
But he did not touch her.
“Yes.” She struggled to maintain her wits. “I have been giving everything a great deal of thought.”
“Kiss me.”
She blinked again, certain she had misheard him. “My lord?”
“You heard me, Izzy.” His grin deepened. “Kiss me.”
Her heart beat faster still.
“Apparently, I already did,” she reminded him, although she recalled precious little of what had happened that night. “What does kissing have to do with calling off the wedding?”
