Page 6 of Courting the Country Miss

After inclining his head in greeting, Tristan looked Wynn over. Well-heeled, tall, lean. Wearing a knot in his cravat preferred by the Corinthian set and a tasteful evening tailcoat. Nothing unattractive about him. Leticia didn’t say it, of course, but Tristan knew enough about women to know that she wouldn’t want to wake up every morning to a hideous face.

“Yes, I believe I saw you at the hunt this morning,” Tristan said. “Do you live in the area?”

Wynn grinned. “Not when I can help it. Don’t much care for the country, unless there’s a steeple chase or a hunt.”

A pity, that. Leticia preferred the country to the city. “You’ll attend the ball tonight?” Tristan probed.

“Of course. Couldn’t offend the host or hostess, you know.” At Tristan’s searching gaze, he lowered his voice. “Very well, if you must know, my sister threatened to tell my mother about a little indiscretion I had if I didn’t come even out the numbers.”

Ah. Debauched. Wynn was not for Leticia.

Wynn glanced around. “Although, I must say, I’m not sorry I came. Quite a selection of delectables. The one at the head of the line looks promising. What’s her name?”

Tristan looked over his shoulder. He choked. Leticia danced at the head of the line.

“Miss Leticia Wentworth,” supplied Seton, who’d been silent until now. Did he detect a note of longing in the diminutive man’s voice?

“Leticia Wentworth,” Wynn repeated as if testing her name on his tongue. “Care to introduce me to her?”

“She’s not your type,” Tristan snapped. Chuckling at the sudden and unexplained protectiveness surging through him, he softened his voice, grinning. “I mean, she’s a lady. Not a delectable with whom you can dally.” A wicked thought entered his mind. “Her father is the one who made the kill in the hunt today.”

“The crack shot?”

“The very one.” There. That ought to make the rogue think twice about pursuing Leticia.

While Wynn digested Tristan’s information, Seton narrowed his eyes at Tristan. “She’s not your sister, you know, Barrett.”

Taken aback, Tristan raised a hand. “No, of course not. Still, I’ve known her longer than most so I can’t help but feel a bit brotherly toward her.”

A challenging gleam entered Seton’s eyes, his usual mild expression almost fierce. “Still, it isn’t your place to decide who may and may not stand up with her.”

Tristan shrugged. “Never claimed it was. Good heavens, Seton, if you’re mooning over her, go ask her for a set.”

Seton drew himself up to his less than impressive height. “Perhaps I will.”

Wynn brushed an imaginary speck off his sleeve and touched his cravat. “Right after one of you introduce me to her.”

Tristan glared at Wynn before looking away. He shook his head at his own reaction. It wasn’t his place to warn off men unworthy of Leticia. Besides, what harm would there be in a dance? And if men vied for her company at a ball, it might prove to her once and for all that men found her attractive. If nothing else, gentlemen’s attention might get her mind off Richard. It had the added advantage of bringing her to the notice of other, more suitable gentlemen. Men were always interested by women who intrigued other men. Must be the competitive nature of the beast. Or a desire to solve the mystery. Still, if a rogue like Wynn showed too much interest in Leticia, Tristan would warn him off.

Tristan searched for Leticia among the dancers. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed, painting a lovely picture.

“Pretty thing, isn’t she?” Rowley said.

“Perhaps you each should ask her for a set,” Tristan suggested in a nonchalant tone to no one in particular.

Wynn straightened further, Rowley looked thoughtful, and Seton appeared to be bracing himself for battle, gulping and tugging at the hem of his waistcoat.

Wynn glanced back at the others, his gaze resting longest on Tristan. “Deuce take it, lads, I cannot approach her without an introduction.”

“You could ask the hostess,” Tristan suggested.

Wynn looked around. “I don’t see her.”

Tristan growled under his breath. He’d rather introduce Leticia to a bug than to Wynn.

Wynn pinned Tristan with a look. “If you’d be so kind.”

Tristan sighed. “Very well.”