“Good evening, Miss Timmons,” Hart said in a perfectly even, calm voice. “I do hope you feel better.” He turned on his heel and strode away.
***
Hart slid the empty brandy glass onto the tray of a passing footman and grabbed a full snifter from the same tray. By God, this night was not going the way he’dplanned. How he’d planned, he’d no idea. But not likethis. He was in the devil’s own mood. He’d intended to help Meg in the marriage mart. He’d intended to dance with her a few times and perhaps elevate her reputation. Instead he found himself angry with Sir Winford for cutting in while he himself was completely uninterested in finding another dancing partner. The episode had put him in a foul mood. He was never in a foul mood.
“You look as if you’re about to beat someone with your fists, dear brother,” Sarah said, approaching him warily, a flute of champagne in her gloved hand.
Hart took another gulp of brandy. “I might.”
Sarah arched a brow. “Truly? Do tell. Who is the unlucky gentleman?”
It was on the tip of Hart’s tongue to sayWinford,but that would elicit a slew of unwanted questions from his only sibling. “It’s nothing. I merely have a devil of a head.”
Sarah took a dainty sip of champagne. “Again? Wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re at atonball, would it?”
“I believe it might.” Hart took a deep breath. He might as well focus his energy on something he actually had control over. Meg Timmons and her marital prospects were none of his concern. Even if he did happen to have the rose she’d tossed away in the garden last night pressed between the pages of a book on his nightstand. He refused to so much as consider why. He didn’t know why. The moment she’d tossed it away, he’d immediately swooped down and grabbed it, tucking it gingerly into his waistcoat pocket as he’d raced behind Meg toward Lucy’s voice.
“Any eligible prospects here tonight?” Hart forced himself to ask his sister.
Sarah glanced around. “Yes, actually. Lady Eugenia Eubanks is here.”
Hmm. Lady Eugenia. Tall, blond, pretty, rich. If only he could muster any enthusiasm for that news. He grabbed another brandy from another tray. Perhaps if he had enough to drink, Lady Eugenia might seem more enticing to him.
“I’ve been considering all the names of friends and acquaintances, trying to come up with someone you might be more interested in,” Sarah offered. “I do believe Lady Eugenia is a fine candidate.”
“How are her teeth?” An image of Meg’s small perfect teeth tugging at her bottom lip flashed through Hart’s mind. Damn, it made him hard. He tossed back another gulp of brandy, trying to think of anything that might dull the lust he was feeling for Meg.
“Her teeth are quite even, if I remember correctly,” Sarah replied with a laugh.
“Where is Lady Eugenia?” Hart asked, glancing about.
“Standing right over there looking for all the world as if she could use a dance partner,” Sarah replied in a singsong voice.
“Introduce me then.” Hart tossed back the final finger of brandy. “It’s high time I found a wife.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“There you are, son, I’ve been looking for you.”
Hart glanced up and winced as his father strode into the room at Brooks’s. It was barely past noon, far too early in the day to deal with his father. Hart was only two brandies in.
His father always strode into a room as if he owned the place. Hart wouldn’t be surprised if his father had attempted to purchase the gentleman’s club, but he hadn’t heard as much. Without asking if he might take a seat, his father grabbed the chair next to his and settled himself into it.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” Hart drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
His father ordered a brandy from the same footman who’d supplied Hart with his last two, and rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. “I’ve heard you’ve taken an interest in Lady Eugenia Eubanks.”
This was precisely what Hart had been hoping toavoid, but thetonwas full of gossips. Namely, his own sister. “Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Sarah told you.”
“Is it true or not?”
Hart groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. Yes. Last night, he’d forced himself to dance and flirt with Lady Eugenia. It had been mildly amusing. She was exactly the type of young woman his father would approve of. Father would like nothing better than to hear the announcement of his betrothal. It was far too premature for that. He’d only danced with her twice last night, for heaven’s sake. Lady Eugenia didn’t strike him as the calculating sort, but it was far too early to tell, and his father’s glee reminded him far too much of his experience with Annabelle.
“I spent some time with her last evening if that’s what you’re asking,” Hart admitted.
