Minerva was playing scales, and the music would begin once the men arrived. Only a few moments more to gather information from her friend’s wandering mind. Praying to the good Lord that Melisande would remember the original question, Millie simply sat and listened.
After another minute of useless memories, Melisande declared, “But being Brigit's first Season, she was the belle of the ball. Her perfectly coiffed blond hair and blue eyes drew admirers like flowers draw honeybees. One evening, late into the Season, we attended Lady Marloning's ball in honor of her son's engagement. Young William had attached himself to the Earl of Pacey's daughter, and they were as well matched as black and boots. Though the guests were in attendance to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of the glowing couple, all eyes were on dear Brigit, including those of one Mr. Erich Kroger. He was the guest of our mutual acquaintance, Lord Kerew. The moment their gazes met over the crush in the room, no other would do for Brigit.”
Millie took note of Melisande's change in tone when mentioning Mr. Kroger. “Your sister fell in love at first sight, but you had your reservations, which, as her older, wiser sister, is a requirement.”
Sighing, Melisande confessed, “Even from our first encounter, there was something off about him. I couldn't quite place why I never felt at ease around him, but because I loved Brigit, and wanted to see her happy, I said nothing.” Her voice caught as she confided, “To this day, I wonder if I did the right thing in staying silent. You see, the day they were married, Mr.Kroger spirited her away to his family estate near Frankfurt. I never saw her again. She died giving birth to the twins.”
Logan tappedhis finger on his still full glass of port, and fought the urge to make his way to the group of ladies in the music room.
Setting his drink on the side table, he swore under his breath.
What a fool.
He didn't care about getting back to anyone other than Miss Edwards.
Haven.
Turning to his dearest friend, he nodded absently at something he said. Harry's usually uplifting chatter did nothing to alleviate the weight of uncertainty in his chest.
At the start of the evening, when he had met Haven at the bottom of the stairs, she was radiant, glowing with excitement, natural beauty, and a mutual sexual attraction. Her body hummed with desire, and he would have given anything to give her the pleasure she so craved. Giving her pleasure would be no hardship, although thinking about her was making him quite hard. Relieved that his crossed legs did a bang-up job of hiding his erection, he cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
Harry arched an eyebrow. “My cousin, Divinia, is on the prowl for a husband. She could do worse than a duke.” His eyes twinkled.
Logan’s stomach turned. The thought of marrying Divinia Kroger transformed his dinner into a sour pile in the pit ofhis belly. Beautiful, well-mannered, and related to his dearest friend, she could be a perfect duchess, but she put him off.
She was a predator; he just didn’t know how far she’d go to get what she wanted—and if Harry was right, she wanted a husband.
Sometime during the gentleman’s sojourn for port and conversation, Mr. Kroger had disappeared. He’d been silent and intense when they first departed the dining room. In Logan’s study, Harry happily chattered about his plans for what remained of the Season, but Mr. Kroger was stiff, quiet, and strangely contemplative. His thoughts were elsewhere. More curious…where had he gone? He left them not ten minutes after they entered the study together.
At Harry’s arched look, Logan admitted, “I must apologize. I am not good company at the moment.”
“I see. Woolgathering. You couldn’t possibly be thinking of a certain beautiful American impostor who is sitting in another room, eh?” His knowing smile was enough to send ripples of pique through Logan’s usually calm demeanor.
“What if I was? Shouldn’t I be considering what to do with her?”
Other than a good, old-fashioned fucking.
Good? What an understatement. A single moment of pleasure with Miss Edwards would bring him to his knees—literally, and figuratively. Her power over him was incomprehensible, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Ignore her? Tamp down the fires of attraction and overwhelming desire burning through him? Get her back to her own time quickly? Even as the voice in his logical mind answered,yes, yes, yes, a deeper, neglected voice whispered,no, no, no.
“Well, I suppose so, but I don’t think that’s the sort of considering going on in that brain of yours. No, don’t scowl atme, I know there are some unanswered questions poisoning the pond where you’ve been brooding, but maybe, after your long soak in the stagnate pool of bitterness, it’s time for you to pull yourself from the mire, and ford headlong into a river flowing with clear, sweet, refreshing water.”
“Harry, I never took you for a philosopher, or a poet for that matter,” Logan sneered, uncomfortable in the direction and focus of the conversation.
Standing, Harry countered, “Philosopher, no. Poet, God, strike me now. I am your friend, and that should count for something.”
Feeling the utter ass, Logan sighed and stood.
“Again, I must apologize. I haven’t been myself lately, and it is wrong to take it out on you. I understand you’re concerned, but please, allow me to do as I feel is right.”
Harry smiled, slapping him on the back. “I trust you to do what youthinkis right.”
Quirking an eyebrow at Harry’s implication, he began to form a retort, but was stopped short by the arrival of Mr. Kroger. The man looked as composed and withdrawn as he did before he’d disappeared.
Wherehadhe gone?
No matter. He most likely made use of the facilities.
