Alworth droveMiss Mountroy in a curricle through Hyde Park. His anger toward Pen hadn’t ebbed. Maybe he was being unjust towards her. But he could not shake the feeling of hurt pride that she had not even bothered to tell him about the match, a match that all of London seemed to have been informed about. He should’ve paid more attention. He’d had more important matters to concern himself with than the gaming and betting in the clubs.
If he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit that maybe, just maybe, the gambling match wasn’t really the issue at hand. The issue was deeper.
The issue of Pen not trusting in him.
Not confiding in him.
Not asking for his advice.
Why the deuce did he care so much about it?
They were only friends, he told himself.
A voice deep down told him that wasn’t entirely true.
He shifted uneasily as Miss Mountroy lisped on. By George, what was she saying now? How purple velvet curtains were better than gauze ones. Was she already trying to redecorate his home?
“Wouldn’t you agree, my lord?” She fixed her violet eyes on him. The eyes of a porcelain doll. Pretty, but rather vapid.
Exactly like he wanted his wife to be. Yet he couldn’t shake the vision of another set of eyes. Huge, dark brown pools fringed with long black eyelashes. Mysterious and soulful, they turned fiery when angered, sparkled when she smiled, but in its depth, there was sadness…
“Er. Yes.” He heard himself say.
She clapped her hands. “Splendid,” she lisped.
He had no idea what he’d just agreed to.
“Mama will be so pleased when she hears you are to attend the Whittlesborough Ball. Do you think,” she clasped her hands, “do you think they will let me dance–the waltz?” She looked at him expectantly.
Dash it, the Whittlesborough Ball. He may have received an invitation. The chit no doubt expected him to reserve a dance with her. Which was what he must have agreed to just now.
She beamed at him the entire way home.
Alworth noted that her constant smiling made him feel grumpy.
He found Pen’s distempered berating of his person to be more refreshing.
Decidedly out of sorts, he concluded he needed to get rid of Miss Letty Mountroy and shift his attention to more pressing matters. Boots. Yes. He could go buy some more boots.
