Bethany Carlow’s deep blue eyes widened, and color rose high on her cheekbones. She was unsettled. Excellent; he had the upper hand and intended to keep it that way.
He felt people move closer on the pretext of passing. Everyone knew that poor Nathanial Deville’s heart had been callously broken by the evil Miss Carlow.
“Deville, where is my book?” the duchess barked, stomping her cane. Nathan twisted his foot so she didn’t connect with his toes.
“My book is in my house. You shall get it when I’m done with it. Now, you must let me compliment you on that dress, Duchess,” he said with no sincerity. But if he was bantering with her, he could show the woman with her he was unaffected by her presence. Which he wasn’t.
“It’s called sun-kissed peach.”
“Really? And there was me thinking it was rotten orange.”
She poked him in the shin before stomping away without a word to annoy some other poor individual.
“How lovely to see you back in society, Miss Carlow.” He made himself face her.
She was nervous. Her gaze met his, then dashed away. Good. She deserved to suffer. He willed his heart to beat a steady rhythm inside his chest.
“Thank you” was all she said, which surprised him. Beth had liked to chatter, especially when she was nervous.
It was her beauty that had first touched him. Her eyes were a deep rich sapphire, framed by thick lashes and soft arching brows the color of her hair. Her lips had always fascinated him, the bottom fuller than the top. The mouth he’d once kissed.
She is nothing to me.
“Lady Carlow, I hope you are keeping good health?” he said, deliberately turning from Beth to look at her mother as if she meant nothing to him.
She’d aged, he realized. Lady Carlow’s hair was now liberally peppered with gray. There were more lines on her face also and she looked… he couldn’t quite find the word. Worried, perhaps?
“I am, thank you, Mr. Deville,” she said, her eyes looking over Nathan’s shoulder, clearly as nervous as her daughter at seeing him.
“And your husband, is he here also?”
“He is not well,” she said quickly.
“The doctor felt it better my father stay in the country.” Beth stepped into the conversation, dragging his eyes back to her.
Her eyes looked stormy now. Dark and angry. Nathan wondered what he’d said to create that reaction.
“I hope he recovers soon,” he said smoothly. The man had, after all, nearly been his father-in-law. He should at least appear to care.
“That is an exquisite gown, Miss Carlow,” Dimity said.
“Thank you, and yours also.” Her voice had a slight lisp to it he’d once found endearing.
“It has been nice meeting you,” Dimity rushed to add when the silence stretched between them. “Come, Nathan, many will be wanting to dance with you. Miss Carlow cannot expect to monopolize your time,” she added loudly.
“Goodbye.” His eyes met Beth’s. Something flashed across them that looked like pain, and then it was gone. Clearly, he was deluded.
They began to circle the room to where his family was standing. Nathan slowly released a breath. His chest felt tight, and his clothes a size too small.
“Do you know, Nathan, I am considered an excellent judge of character,” Dimity said, leading him away.
Beth was watching him; he knew this, as the back of his neck tingled.
“By whom?”
“Me. Now be quiet.”
“Being quiet,” he said, wanting to hunch his shoulders. Being in the presence of Beth Carlow again had unsettled him, and that annoyed him. She was nothing to him now.
