Carenza sat down and fussed around with the tea tray. “Find out what?”
“Your involvement with the advertisement.”
“He thought you had placed the ad, and I felt obliged to tell him the truth.”
“Hence his interest in preserving not my good name but yours.” Olivia sat down as well. “I’ve never seen him quite so animated on someone else’s behalf. He always struck me as an observer rather than a participator in chaos.”
“I can assure you that he participated with an extreme lack of humor and a ruthlessness to get his own way that bordered on insulting.”
“Did he?”
Carenza didn’t like the way Olivia was looking at her. “Please don’t read anything into it. He and I are old friends.”
“Like brother and sister?”
“Hardly.” Carenza didn’t even want to think about that—especially after what Julian had proposed. “Although we do squabble rather a lot.”
Olivia finished her tea and rose to her feet. “I must be off. I just wanted to reassure myself that you got home safely.”
Carenza smiled at her friend. “Hopefully no one will ever know that it was us, and the whole thing will die down when the next scandal occurs in the ton.”
“You don’t wish to continue the scheme?” Olivia looked surprised.
“You saw the quality of the applicants. I’m not that desperate.” Carenza followed Olivia to the door. “I’ll have to resign myself to finding a paramour in the usual fashion.”
“Or ask Julian.” Olivia kissed her cheek. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to assist you.”
As she got ready for the Ross ball later that evening, Carenza was still considering exactly what Olivia had meant by her parting remark. Carenza had chosen a gown in pink that flattered her skin and had her maid dress her hair in elaborate coils on the top of her head to support the Smythe-Harding tiara.
She added diamond eardrops and a necklace left to her by her grandmother that Hector had been unable to pawn. Long white gloves, kid slippers, and a fine shawl completed her outfit to her satisfaction. Anyone who saw her at the ball would never believe she’d spent the earlier part of the day interviewing candidates for the position of her lover.
Except Julian—he would know.
She went down to the hall to await Allegra and make sure the carriage was ready at the front of the house. Her sister was always punctual, and she appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in her favorite blue.
“You look rather fine this evening, Carenza,” Allegra said. “Are we expecting royalty at this ball?”
“Not that I know of. I just felt like making an effort.” Carenza got into the carriage, and Allegra followed her.
“I’m not surprised after this morning’s fiasco.” Allegra folded her hands together on her lap. “One can only hope that you are done with such nonsense now. I did try to warn you.”
Was there anything more annoying than a sanctimonious younger sister? Carenza simply ignored her and looked out of the window. Would Julian be at the ball? And if so, how did she intend to deal with him? She’d recently discovered she did not have the face for subterfuge, and pretending everything was fine might be a challenge. The problem was that Julian knew her better than almost anyone outside her family.
She’d have to avoid him. Perhaps if she filled her dance card very quickly, she wouldn’t have a moment to spare. Carenza relaxed back against the seat. Dancing would be a good opportunity to meet a gentleman who might give her what she needed without her having to deal with Julian’s provocative offer at all.
CHAPTER4
After their earlier adventures, Julian hadn’t been sure if Carenza would attend the Ross ball, so he was quite surprised to see her descending the steps with Allegra at her side. She looked well in a pink gown that showed off her remarkable bosom and slender neck. Diamonds glinted around her throat and in her ears, and he smiled despite himself. She’d come ready for battle, but with him, or with every other available man in the vicinity, he wasn’t quite sure.
Later in the evening, when he’d been unable to get near enough to Carenza to speak to her, his older brother, Aragon, came up beside him. He was tall and dark like Anton and bore little resemblance to Julian.
“Is that Carenza Smythe-Harding over there?”
“Yes, I believe it is.” Julian eased away from his brother.
“She looks well.” Aragon studied her intently. “I’d like to see her mounted on a strapping stallion.”
For a moment Julian could only blink. And then he remembered his brother was horse-mad and thus was probably not making some crude sexual joke.
