Grey should have been feelinga lot worse. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He could never have anticipated it; not here, not now, not her. But there was no question that it had. It took him several minutes before he could turn from the cool dark night on the balcony to face his contemporaries. And even then he was fighting the most unsettling distraction. Not to mention an unholy urge to smile.
He damned near laughed at himself. Distraction. Was that what he was going to call it? It had probably been a good thing the aunt had swept in like an avenging angel, or she might have witnessed far worse.
If Lady Georgianna—oh bloody hell.Georgie. After what had just transpired out on that balcony, it was difficult to hold onto a polite distance. If she had not so enthusiastically participated a moment ago, he would have felt ashamed. After all, he had compromised her about as thoroughly as a man could and keep his clothing on. But he couldn’t help but think that that moment had revealed a real connection, one that could, with work, develop into something more.
And yes. He admitted it. Selfishly, he was relieved. He had walked into this ball a harried man, caught between a sudden family, a financial crisis, and a relentless government. Completely upended from the wandering life of a soldier where he’d known his responsibilities, his limits and his rewards. Now, he admitted that even with the girls he felt like a nomad settling for a visit.
After this, at least he knew his girls would be protected no matter what happened. He knew from only two meetings with her that Georgie had an uncanny ability to create order out ofchaos, a home for a wanderer. Mostly, right now, he knew his house would be transformed into a place of at least comfort while he was stuck in Paris. And then, when he got home, maybe Georgie could actually help him create a home out of the peeling wallpaper and overwhelming responsibilities. Someplace he could finally feel settled after ten years of war.
Halfway across the dance floor toward the foyer, he stopped dead in his tracks. His girls.Hisgirls. He smiled. So they were. And Georgie was just the woman to keep them safe and happy while he was away. To mold them all into a family. Which meant he would be free to go. Well, he would be right after he made Lady Georgianna Packham the next Marchioness Coleford.
Deciding that the best plan was to get things over with as soon as he could, he waved at Rob who was busy in a rather intense conversation with a well-endowed heiress, bowed his farewells to the gloating Halversons, and made for the front door.
“Was that intentional?” he heard behind him and didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, finally facing his friend and unofficial superior, Marcus, Earl Drake.
Drake’s smile was as enigmatic as the rest of him. Blond, blue-eyed, and flawlessly elegant, Drake had a knack for knowing more than he should and saying less than one expected. But right now, Grey suspected he was looking for answers.
To that end, Drake laid an arm over Grey’s shoulder and led him through the open door out into the night. “I am an earl,” he answered easily as they descended the steps to the street. “I am seen everywhere. What of you?”
“I am a marquess,” he reminded his friend. “And I am on the marriage market.”
“No longer, it seems.”
Grey cast a suspicious look at him. “You saw that?”
Drake smiled. “Oh, my dear, I believe Lady Berenice made sure everyone but the Prince Regent saw that. I thought you were to marry the Mayhew chit. Was I mistaken?”
It was all Grey could do not to shrug off Drake’s arm. He didn’t like being manipulated. He didn’t like to feel boxed in. He felt both right now, even as he spared a flash of regret that he was doing the same to his probable fiancée.
“Miss Mayhew’s parents decided that she and I have decided we didn’t suit,” he said. Thank God they had caught him on the way out and pointed that out. “Anything else?”
“Which Packham chit is it?”
Grey found himself staring at his friend. “You don’t know?”
He got another lazy smile. “All three were crowded in that doorway. The aunt didn’t specify.”
“Lady Georgianna.”
Drake’s left eyebrow rose. “Indeed. Interesting choice.”
Grey came to an abrupt halt right there on the walk, with other guests parting around them like a stream around boulders.
“It wasn’t a...” He shook his head. There was no point explaining. Lifting Drake’s arm, he took a step away. “Why exactly is it an interesting choice?”
“Share a glass at the club?”
“No. It seems I am due at the Packham abode.”
Drake nodded. “I’ll walk with you. It’s not far.”
“I know. What were you implying?” he asked as they turned down the walk toward Brook Street.
Around them Mayfair echoed with late evening entertainment. Carriages rumbled down the street, the faint hum of strings drifted from more than one home, and lights spilled from myriad windows. The night was mild, relieved by only a lethargic breeze, and clouds skimmed low in the sky. A perfect night for a walk and a think. He was just afraid Drake wasn’t about to allow him that luxury.
“She will be perfect for your little cousins,” Drake mused. “She certainly has the experience, having grown up in that madhouse they all call a home and taking on some of her mother’s social duties. And she must have extraordinary patience, or her aunt would not still be breathing.”
