“Sebastian, I am. It slipped out, and then I felt obligated to explain—”
“To the mother you rarely see. The one trying to find you a new countess to marry and secure grandchildren and an heir.”
“She’ll do nothing of the sort to me. Marriage is an evil business. You both should avoid it like the plague.”
Mark fondled my fingers. “The heart knows what it wants.”
The earl groaned. “The heart also pumps blood coursing with disease all throughout the body. I don’t think a heart which can’t tell the difference between good blood and bad blood should be trusted.”
“Lord Livingston, sir, I can see why he said little about me. You’re not very encouraging, though my sister, Miss Scarlett Wilcox, has read a paper of yours recently. She found it intriguing. I can’t believe I’ve met the author.”
The earl looked happy for a moment, then his smile dropped and he made his horse back up. “Oh, this woman is good. She’ll go for the kill straightaway. She finds a weakness—”
“Like your vanity, sir.” Mark’s laughter grew, but his heated gaze remained on me.
“Oh, she’s very good. Lady Hampton has probably taught all the sisters how to ensnare peers. Get out while you still can, Sebastian. Marriage is dangerous. It’s dangerous for the both of you. Keep your friendship. Have fun, then flee.”
As I brought my hand higher on his arm, Mark gave me another warm look.
I couldn’t figure out where he focused—on my broad pointy nose, my large eyes, or the lips that wouldn’t mind a third kiss, one as indecent as our second.
“Livingston, you run along,” Mark said. “Tell your mother you’ve seen us, and you did your duty to try to break this relationship.”
“I’m not done yet. Sebastian, Miss Wilcox, ending this will be for the good, for you both. Trust me. Marriage is horrible.”
“I guess we’ll know if she formally accepts my hand at Torrance’s ball.”
Mark’s words sounded true.
My unpredictable heart stopped, then beat again in a floppy, foolish beat.
Was this pretend?
Weren’t we still in make-believe?
Frowning like he’d eaten bitter, bitter lemons, the earl rode off.
Mark picked me up and swung me around before setting my feet on low clouds, or the ground. Couldn’t tell where my slippers were or if his words were true.
Did he love me? Was it possible?
And how did I feel about him?
“Well done, Georgie. That will give Livingston a special tale to tell his mother. We’re the season’s young lovers.”
It was pretend.
All for show.
My heart slammed against my chest, and then crawled to a mournful rhythm.
“Georgie, something wrong? Did I hurt you picking you up? I must say I lost my head.”
“Gravel. There’s rocky gravel under my shoes. Let’s go to the duke’s carriage.”
“Yes. Well done.” Mark offered his arm. “Let me steady you.”
I took his help, for that was all he offered. Nothing more.
