Perhaps it was time to show him—and herself—that she was more than his careless assessment.
"Very well," she said finally. "But nothing too outrageous. I won't have the entire party thinking I've lost my senses."
May and April exchanged triumphant smiles.
"Leave everything to us," April said, looping her arm through June's.
"You won't regret it," May added, taking June's other arm.
As her sisters guided her back toward the house, chattering excitedly about silks and ribbons and hairstyles, June felt a thread of panic weaving through her determination.
What have I gotten myself into?
Four
June Vestiere was a slight woman. She should have had no significance.
Yet she does, a voice in his head answered with irritating certainty. Dominic strode across the rolling lawns of the Stone estate, his boots cutting through the afternoon dew as thoroughly as Lady June had cut through his usual composure. Four and twenty hours since their encounter, and still her face—her remarkably expressive, challenging face—haunted him like an unpaid debt.
He'd walked nearly to the property's edge, seeking solitude and finding only his own thoughts for company. Terrible company they were, refusing to dwell on anything but Lady June and the kiss that should have meant nothing. The kiss that had, against all reason, meant something.
Unimpressed, she'd said. The audacity of it almost made him smile. Almost. No woman had ever said such a thing to him,certainly not after he'd kissed her. He'd spent years perfecting the art of being exactly impressive enough to earn a lady's attentions without encouraging her expectations. Yet Lady June had dismissed him with the same casual disdain one might show a mediocre theatrical performance.
Dominic paused at the crest of a gentle hill, surveying the landscape without truly seeing it. The rolling countryside of Norfolk spread before him, but his mind remained in that room, with her scent lingering and her words ringing in his ears.
And now he knew who she was. August's sister. The knowledge struck him anew, as unwelcome as it had been when Theo first mentioned it. August Vestiere, one of his oldest friends, the man who had stood by him through university and beyond.
Dominic ran a hand through his hair, disturbing the careful styling his valet had spent half an hour achieving that morning. It mattered little. He had fled the manor house precisely to avoid company—to avoid her—and out here, there was no one to witness his dishevelment.
I would never court my friend's sister,he reminded himself firmly. That was a complication he neither needed nor wanted. Even if he had been the sort of man who believed in marriage—which he was decidedly not—forming an attachment to the sister of a dear friend was a recipe for disaster.
The distant thunder of hooves pulled him from his thoughts. Turning, he spotted a familiar figure astride a chestnut gelding, approaching at a brisk trot. August Vestiere, as if summoned byDominic's troubled thoughts, cut a dashing figure against the afternoon sky.
Dominic squared his shoulders, forcing a smile he didn't entirely feel. By the time August reined in his mount a few paces away, Dominic had composed himself into the picture of aristocratic nonchalance.
"So this is where you've hidden yourself!" August called, swinging down from the saddle with practiced ease. He grinned, the expression lighting his handsome face with the same easy charm that had won him countless friends at Oxford. "Running from the party already? I thought your social stamina was legendary."
"Legend is often exaggeration," Dominic replied dryly, clasping his friend's outstretched hand. "It's good to see you, August."
"And you," August said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Though I'm surprised to find you out here among the sheep rather than inside, charming the ladies. Did you not find a single one worthy of your time?"
Dominic shook his head, ignoring the image of amber eyes that immediately sprang to mind. "I prefer fresh air to forced conversation. The manor is crawling with debutantes and their desperate mamas. I've dodged more matrimonial traps in the last day than most men see in a lifetime."
August laughed, a rich sound that reminded Dominic of late nights in university, solving the world's problems over too much port. "Ah, still the same Blake, then. Some things never change."
"More's the pity," Dominic said, with a wryness that surprised even himself. He gestured to August's riding attire. "You've only just arrived?"
"About an hour ago," August confirmed, looping his horse's reins loosely around one hand. "When Theo told me you'd fled the premises like a fox before hounds, I thought I'd come find you. Save you from yourself."
"How terribly considerate," Dominic drawled. "I should have hidden more effectively."
August studied him, his smile fading slightly. "You seem... different. Not quite the carefree Blake I remember."
"Continental air," Dominic said dismissively. "It makes one philosophical."
"Or melancholy," August suggested, raising an eyebrow. "Come, walk with me back to the house. Theo mentioned something about cards before dinner, and I'd like to relieve a few gentlemen of their quarterly allowances."
They began the slow walk back toward the manor, the horse ambling beside them. The afternoon sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the manicured lawns.
