Yes, she’d be surrounded by these young pups in no time at all.
“You’ll do it then?” The brilliance of her expression damn near outshone the sun.
“Do what?”
“Pretend to take an interest in me?”
He wasn’t sure what she was asking. “Pretend to court you?”
“Yes. None of it would be real, of course. But your title is a lofty one, and you’re an excellent dancer. So, yes, it just might work. And if what you say is true about the value of not appearing overly eager, our plan could benefit your pursuit of a wife as well.”
“Of course, it would work.” The fact that she even questioned the value of his association irked him. “But I do not need your help in that area. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.”
Miss Jones glanced longingly toward the shore where the soldiers were assisting their companions onto dry land.
“Please?” She turned back to him.
“I—” The refusal he’d meant to utter stalled as he fell under the full force of her charm. The sensation reminded Greys of the day he’d been sparring with Stone Spencer and the blighter landed a blow to his gut. Time stood still while Greys had floundered to recover.
He couldn’t quite manage to take a decent breath as she fluttered thick lashes in his direction, vulnerability showing in her lovely eyes. Then, just when he thought he could drag his gaze away, she bit her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth, “Please?” Her voice came out softly, practically a whisper.
She then landed the final blow when she reached across the boat and placed a hand on his knee. “Pretty please?”
Pretending to court her would be harmless, really. Just an extension of the favor he’d already promised her brother. It would be temporary, and he’d be exceedingly satisfied knowing he’d helped this young woman establish herself once and for all in society, after which he would then commence his courtship of Lady Isabella.
Who was pretty, almost as pretty as Miss Diana Jones, and she was also kind and well-mannered. The earl’s daughter was the sort of young lady his grandfather would have chosen for him. The thought wasn’t all that exciting, but it was steadying—which was even better.
It was no matter that Lady Isabella would likely never laugh over a feathered hat that was capable of both flying and swimming, nor that she would never cling to him with no concern for propriety.
No matter at all.
“Very well,” Greys answered. It wasn’t until Miss Diana squealed in delight, flinging herself into his arms again, that he questioned his sanity.
Right before the boat listed to one side, then more precariously to the other and dumped both unceremoniously into the lake.
