He caught her eye, a question in his gaze, and she smiled before she hurriedly looked away. She didn’t have the face for keeping secrets. Anyone who saw them in close proximity would soon guess that she was enamored of him. Carenza took a deep breath.
She was in love with him, and that wasn’t part of the plan at all.
“Lady Carenza?”
She jumped and turned to face Aragon. “I do beg your pardon. I was woolgathering.”
“Happens to me all the time.” He smiled at her. “That’s why I need my mother to hold the reins.”
“I think you underestimate yourself, sir.”
“Funnily enough, that’s exactly what Julian said,” Aragon said. “He told me it was high time to take control of my own estates.”
“He does have a rather annoying tendency to be right about such things.” She returned his smile. “And I know he has your best interests at heart.”
“My mother told me not to trust him, but she was wrong to do so, because he’s a good man.” For once Aragon sounded serious. “I’ve come to appreciate his advice.”
“Good for you,” Carenza said. “I often disagree with him, but, again, he is usually right.”
“He’s very fond of you.”
“Yes, we’ve been friends for years,” Carenza agreed. “How could we not all be friends when our families grew up together?”
“I consider you my friend,” Aragon said.
Carenza smiled at him. “Likewise.”
“I know I’ve been following you around like a lost lamb recently, but on reflection, I don’t think we would suit.” He paused and studied her face. “Please don’t cry.”
“I will bravely hold back my tears.” Carenza pretended to sigh. “And shed them privately in the sanctuary of my bedchamber.”
“You don’t mind at all, do you?”
“I’d rather we were friends.”
“Then so be it.” He grinned at her. “I’ve always thought you more suited to Julian anyway. You both have a wicked sense of humor.”
Carenza picked up her wineglass and hoped Aragon hadn’t noticed she was blushing. He wasn’t known as a particularly observant man, so his remarks were probably innocent. In truth, if he had noticed her connection with Julian, she was in trouble.
There was a tinkling laugh from the other side of the table. Lady Brenton looked at Aragon and then at Carenza. “I doubt Julian would consider Lady Carenza as more than a friend either, my lord. He does have rather exacting tastes.”
“Good point, ma’am,” Aragon nodded enthusiastically. “Julian is renowned for the beauty of his mistresses.” He turned to Carenza. “Not that I’d include you among those ladies. You’re far more than just a pretty face; you’re an excellent rider.”
“Thank you,” Carenza murmured.
Lady Brenton looked rather put out.
“I’ve always thought Mr. Laurent would make an excellent lover,” Olivia said. “In fact, now that you’re done with him, Cressida, I might proposition him myself.”
“You’re certainly beautiful enough,” Aragon told Olivia.
Carenza tried not to glare at Olivia, who was being her usual provocative self.
“Do you care to ride?” Aragon asked. “How is your seat?”
“I fear I’m not as accomplished a rider as Carenza, my lord,” Olivia said. “I prefer to limit my physical activities to my bedchamber.”
Aragon’s eyebrows went up. “Do you, by God.” He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Olivia. He was just about to speak when his mother cleared her throat.
