“All the more reason I should pursue her.”
Dara sniffed her disdain. “You are teasing me now. Let me assure you, sir, there is nothing to mock about wanting what is best for one’s family. Cross me at your peril.”
Michael almost laughed. “At my peril? Did you truly just speak such flummery?”
She refused the bait. “And with that, I will say good evening, Mr. Brogan.” She made as if to sail from the room, but he couldn’t let her have the last word.
“What of love, Miss Lanscarr? What if I’ve fallen in love with your sister? Are you so far gone from modern sensibilities that you see no value to deep emotion?”
That caught her. An expression crossed her face—one he couldn’t quite define. Her gloved hands tightened on the handle of the door, even as she squared her shoulders and said, “You would be lucky to fall in love with my sister. However, what most feel is lust.Thatis what I’m protecting her from. I told you, Elise deserves better.” With those words, she threw open the door and slammed it behind her.
Michael stared at that closed door. Even when the footman and maid peeked out to see if it waspermissible for them to finish their preparations, he sat. They came out anyway.
He barely paid attention. Deep within him, a resentment was brewing. It wasn’t because Dara Lanscarr was an outspoken woman. He valued the female perspective. He didn’t consider them inferior beings like so many of his peers. He liked the way their minds worked.
But no one, man or woman, had everdismissedhim.
Him, an MP, a highly respected and very proudIrishman. And he suspected the latter was her objection—not only was he not a duke, he was Irish. Kind didn’t always admire kind.
Whoever came up with the idea that dukes were special? He knew most of them, and the majority were dim-witted. But he would not share as much with Miss Dara Lanscarr. Let her learn for herself.
Resentment turned to rebellion.
If Elise was half as opinionated as her sister, and she must be, she could make her own judgment about him, although he was very aware of how he presented himself. Elise’s smiles had always been inviting.
No, the problem was Dara’s.
Michael rose from the table. Miss Lanscarr had thrown down a gauntlet. He was going to accept the challenge.
***
There were several people in the hallway when Dara stormed out of the Supper Room.
She had a moment of alarm when she realized that she was wandering around alone, something only the boldest of young women would do and a violation of her own rules. Two matrons walked by her, moving away from the ballroom, and Dara stepped in behind them as if she was one of their number.
Only then did she draw a breath and reflect on what had just happened. If Elise and Gwendolyn found out that she had warned Mr. Brogan away, they would be furious. She’d crossed a line. It had been high-handed even for her.
The women she trailed behind were going to the Necessary Room that had been set aside for the ladies. Besides wash basins and whatever else, there was a connecting room with a sitting area for women to relax. Fortunately, it was empty. Dara practically fell into a chair, desperately needing this moment of privacy. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands.
Guilt was as uncomfortable an emotion as jealousy. Dara was not one to fool herself. She’d confronted Mr. Brogan because she knew she could never have him. A man as respected, important, and handsome as he was did not notice dowdy middle sisters like herself.
She had not lied. Elise could do better for a husband than a mere MP—except Dara wouldn’t have minded if the man had been anyone else. Mr. Brogan set her pulse racing. Just being as close as she was on the dance floor or across the table in the Supper Room caused unsettling, fluttery feelings inside of her.Deepinside of her... in places she’d never had such a response before. Being around him was like looking at the sun—she should turn away and yet yearned to bask in his presence.
Dara dropped her hands and sat upright, disgusted with herself. Was that poetry? She hated sentimental, lovesick poems, and here she was practically writing one in her mind.
No wonder she was angry. Anger was better than the way he made her feel vulnerable. During their dance, she’d acted indifferent to him to keep her distance and to help prepare her for what she knew needed to be said to him.
Because she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life jealous of Elise.
And then he had asked that question—What if I’ve fallen in love with your sister?
Love.What a wicked little word. It spun her into a tizzy.
Could he have already fallen in love with Elise? She was very loveable. But wouldn’t something like “love” take time?
Apparently not... because what Dara felt toward him was so intense, it both frightened and annoyed her.
Maybeshewas the one who was feeling lust? That thought made her feel worse. She was no giddy milkmaid. She was a woman of common sense. And she would not let any man come between her and her sisters.
