Lady Maxwell’s face swam before him. She’d been smiling. Patted his coat. Asking him when he’d changed. The memory faded as quickly as it came.
The delicate scent of roses hovered in the air as she dipped into yet another awkward curtsey, almost as if her legs didn’t bend properly.
“Lady Sophia. How lovely to see you today.”
Roses. A soft, feminine scent. Completely unwelcome on this termagant. She should smell of…rotted plums.
“Bravo,” she ground out in a whisper. “For recalling my name.”
“Scheming liar,” his lips said along her knuckles.
“Feckless sot,” she returned under her breath while straightening.
But his being at the ball didn’t mean he’d touched Canterbell’s daughter. Had she mistaken someone else for him? That seemed the most likely. Or possibly Lord Canterbell wanted a duke in his pocket. Hayward would have been a better target. He had far more influence in political circles no matter how ancient.
In any case, mutual dislike didn’t bode well for their impending union, no matter how short he intended it to be.
Lady Sophia’s fingers curled away from his, trying to escape.
Alexander tightened his grip, refusing to release her. She was getting what she wanted. Marriage. To him. No matter how unpleasant she would find the experience to be.
Squeezing her fingers once more, he released her. She immediately drifted to the horrid green settee directly across from Alexander, looking for all the world as if she were floating in a bowl of pea soup.
Alexander detested pea soup.
Lady Canterbell’s lips curved into a polite smile as she regarded him through the steam rising from the pot of tea on the table. “Tea, Your Grace?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He didn’t like tea. Copious amounts of milk or sugar didn’t improve the taste. Nor honey. Brandy was what he wanted. The thirst for it or scotch grew by leaps and bounds with every moment he spent in the Canterbell drawing room. The cut crystal decanter on the sideboard mocked him. But Alexander didn’t care to be called a feckless sot. Especially not by this scheming little chit.
A cup was placed before him.
Alexander stared at his tea for a time but did not touch it. Nor the plate of biscuits he was handed.
“I am pleased we have this opportunity to become better acquainted, Your Grace,” Lady Canterbell said. “I realize the circumstances are somewhat…irregular, but I hope we can look forward to a splendid and fruitful union.”
Lady Sophia fairly cringed at the word “fruitful,” which even though Alexander had no desire to bed her, it was rather off-putting to realize she didn’t want to bed him either. He’d never in his life had a woman not wish for his attention. Usually, Alexander had to swat them away.
He sat back in the butterfly chair. If he repulsed Lady Sophia, it would make attaining an annulment that much easier. Alexander should be thrilled he disgusted her to such a degree.
Yet, he was not.
“That is my hope as well.” Alexander cleared his throat, unable to stop his eyes from drifting to the sideboard once more where the brandy glittered back at him like some jewel.
Lady Sophia, damn her, followed the direction of his gaze and…snickered.
His fingers curled along the arms of the chair.
Lady Canterbell poured two more steaming cups of tea, one for her and one for her awful daughter, still prattling away, filling the room with gossip about nearly everyone in London. Tedious stuff. Who had been riding in the park. Some lord’s new carriage drawn byfour perfectly matched bays. All the bits of life in society for which Alexander cared little. Lady Canterbell was so consumed by the sound of her own voice, she never paused in her recitation, which gave Alexander no opportunity to reply or comment as she spoke.
Which was fine as he had nothing to contribute.
His unwanted bride said nary a word during the entirety of the soul-stifling hour, though she made her opinion of Alexander clear with a series of derisive snorts, dramatic eye-rolling, and a disgusted puff here and there whenever she chanced to look his way.
Lady Canterbell pointedly ignored her daughter.
Glancing at the clock, Alexander was satisfied he’d been tortured long enough and could finally take his leave. Damon expected him to take Lady Sophia on a carriage ride next week through the park so that they could be seen in each other’s company, but stopped short of forcing Alexander to escort her to a ball.
