Ash strode down the stone steps, looking as infuriatingly handsome as ever. His dark hair was slightly tousled from the morning breeze, his gray eyes glinting with amusement as he approached. If the gaggle of debutantes had been hoping for onelast glance, he gave them nothing more than a vague nod of farewell.
The moment the last carriage trundled through the gates, Meredith whirled on her brother with a look of utter betrayal.
“Ash, really.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “You could have at leastfeignedinterest in one of them.”
Clare bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
“I did feign interest,” Ash replied easily, scrunching up his nose. “Just not very well, apparently.”
Griffin let out a low chuckle. “I did warn you, love,” he said to Meredith, draping an arm lazily around her waist. “Your brother is hopeless.”
“Hopeless,” Meredith agreed. Then, narrowing her eyes at Ash, she added, “But let’s not forget, dear brother, you lost the bet with Griffin last year. Youmusttake a bride before your thirty-first birthday.”
Clare’s stomach twisted at the words.
She already knew about the bet. Everyone in their circle did. If Ash wasn’t married by his next birthday, he’d forfeit something—land, money, perhaps a favorite horse—she wasn’t sure.
All she knew was that Ash had laughed off the consequences at the time.
And now, with the deadline looming?
He still wasn’t taking it seriously.
Ash gave a mock sigh, pressing a hand to his chest as if wounded. “So cold, Meredith.Mustis such a heavy-handed word.”
Meredith scowled. “Oh, spare me.”
But Clare barely heard her. Because at that exact moment, Ash turned his attention to her, and a slow, heated look passed between them.
It was barely a flicker—a moment that lasted only a breath—but Clare felt the burn of it everywhere.
She schooled her expression, biting back the smile that threatened to betray her.
Meredith, oblivious to the silent exchange, folded her arms. “You haven’t seen the last of me and my matchmaking efforts.” She lifted her chin defiantly and rested a hand upon her expanding middle. “I amdeterminedto find you a bride before I’m forced into confinement.”
Griffin groaned. “Darling, please. I beg you to let this go. I’ll happily take Trentham’s prize horse as forfeit.”
“And I will happily give him to you,” Ash replied. Then he grumbled, “Well, perhaps not happily, butwillingly,at least.”
“I absolutely will not let this go,” Meredith snapped. Then, turning back to Ash, she pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think I won’t come looking for you in London and bring along a beautiful lady or two.”
Ash lifted a brow. “In that case, I’ll make it easy for you.”
Clare narrowed her eyes and pretended to study the landscape.
Meredith narrowed her eyes. “How easy?”
“I’ll come visit you in London.” He slid his hands into his coat pocket, then added, as if completely indifferent, “Say, every Thursday night? For dinner?”
Clare almost gasped. A weekly dinner? How would she ever be able to sit through such evenings? No doubt Ash would employ the same sort of heated looks he’d just given her. Oh, dear. Perhaps she could find an excuse to bow out.
Meredith seemed caught off guard too. Ash hated domestic things. He avoided intimate family dinners with the same fervor he avoided the marriage mart.
“You’ll—” She blinked. “You’ll come to dinner?”
He shrugged, all casual nonchalance. “Why not?”
Meredith beamed. “Yes, absolutely. Thursday night.”
