With a sigh, Hugh moved to that small circle and waited for the barrage. It didn’t take even a breath to start.
“This is foolishness,” Robert snapped, glaring at Hugh like he was doing something to personally offend him.
Ewan, who had been mute since birth, rolled his eyes and reached out to grasp Robert’s arm gently. His message was clear, even without his writing on the silver notepad he always carried in his pocket.
But Robert shook off the hand and continued, “It is one thing to marry for love—” He waved his hand at the room at large. “Like all these other idiots have done. Butthis? This suddenthingthat no one can explain?”
“Robert.” It was Lucas who had spoken, soft but firm.
“Everyone stopRoberting me,” Robert said with a glare for the two of them. “I want to hear Brighthollow explain himself.”
Hugh cast a quick look at Lucas, the only one who knew the truth, and then sighed. “There are situations that crop up in a man’s life that sometimes require…sacrifices.”
He said that word, but the truth was that marrying Amelia was feeling less and less like a sacrifice the more he got to know her. Her beauty drew him in, of course. No man would look at her and not feel that attraction. But there was far more to it than that. He liked her loyalty, misplaced as it was. He liked her fire, the one her father insisted would have to be extinguished. Hugh didn’t want to do that. He just wanted to turn it, have it burn in passion rather than anger.
He likedher, truth be told. The fact that she hated him in return was not easy for him. Not pleasant. Not what he wanted, though he didn’t want to analyze what he wanted too deeply. Or else he might lose control of more than his emotional response.
Amelia seemed to inspire that in him.
“Sacrifice,” Robert said, dragging Hugh back to the conversation. “I hate to watch you do this.”
Hugh sighed. “I appreciate the concern, I do. But this is what it is. And it will happen tomorrow whether you rail at me about it or not. I can only hope that you all will not shun Amelia in some ill-conceived attempt to protect me from my own choices.”
“The duchesses already like her,” Charlotte, Ewan’s wife, said as she approached and slipped her hand into the crook of her husband’s arm. “And even if we didn’t, we would never give her the cut direct. For your sake.”
He glanced at his male friends and found them all nodding in agreement, even Robert. Relief flowed through him. “Good.”
“Your Grace, the Viscount Quinton and Miss Quinton,” Murphy announced from the door, then stepped back to allow the two to enter.
Hugh caught his breath as Amelia all but floated into the room on the arm of her father. She was stunning, just as she was always stunning. Tonight she wore a dark blue gown, three shades darker than her eyes. Her black hair was done in an elaborate style that accentuated her long, slender neck. The only thing missing from her lovely face was a smile.
He hated that she was so miserable, and that the lie he and her father had told had led her to despise him. It was a mighty hurdle to overcome. Perhaps he never truly would.
He blinked as he realized he’d just been staring at her for far too long, then came forward to greet his new guests. “My lord,” he said, shaking her father’s hand. “Amelia.”
She swallowed, and her gaze darted away from his face. “Your Grace,” she murmured.
“I believe you know some of the party,” he said, motioning to the room before he did a quick reintroduction of his friends. He noted how welcoming they were to her. Even Robert did not show his displeasure in the match, though Hugh caught him watching Amelia even when she stepped away from him. He wasn’t sure why that inspired such a swell of jealousy, but there it was.
Finally, the party began to break up, moving toward the ballroom where the rest of the guests had already begun to arrive. Amelia and her father stood behind, her shifting in her place, Quinton’s jaw set.
Robert cast a glance at Hugh and then approached the man. “Lord Quinton, I think I recall that your father fought in the Seven Years’ War. He was quite the hero, if I am remembering my facts correctly.”
Quinton’s eyes lit up and he stepped toward Robert. “Indeed, he was, Your Grace.”
“I would love to hear the tales,” Robert said, and motioned toward the door. The two men left together, with Quinton talking loudly as they departed.
Hugh smiled. Robert was a rake of the highest order and his most outspoken friend, but he could be counted on. Just as they all could. Now he was alone with Amelia, allowed to be her escort without any interruption.
He moved toward her with a smile. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his. “You…well, you are very handsome, I’m sure you know it.”
He stifled a laugh at the almost reluctant compliment she gave. It was some progress, of course, but small, indeed. “May I escort you to the ballroom?”
She hesitated, then nodded and took his arm. Hugh caught his breath at the electric current that seemed to snap through him at that benign touch. Yes, he was attracted to this woman. More, perhaps, than he’d allowed himself to admit.
“Will I meet your sister tonight?” she asked as they exited the parlor and began the stroll to his ballroom.
