Page 32 of A Wallflower to Win the Viscount

She laughed.

It wasn’t funny. It was ludicrous.

‘Well, I’m pleased to know there’s someone who doesn’t consider me completely unmarriageable,’ she said wryly. ‘Cousin Jasper and the countess certainly thought I was.’

‘It was Beatrice’s idea,’ he added, a note of defensiveness creeping into his otherwise-stern voice. ‘She said you didn’t marry during your Season simply because you did not have the opportunity to meet men with whom you had anything in common.’

It was due to many other factors than just that, but it was nice of Beatrice to think it was the quality of the men that was at fault.

‘She thought if we introduced you to men involved in saving animals, then…’ His voice came to a halt. He looked so ill at ease, even embarrassed, as well he should be.

‘So you were hoping to marry me off to the Earl of Ashcombe?’ she said slowly.

‘Mm. Yes. I’m sorry.’

‘And instead of rushing up the aisle with him, I ran away from the ghastly man. It seems I disappointed you and Beatrice the same way I always disappointed the countess.’

‘I wasn’t disappointed.’

‘You weren’t?’

Lucian coughed and brushed away some invisible lint on his trousers. ‘No. It was obvious the man was not right for you,’ he said, his voice almost pompous.

‘And why is that?’

Primrose agreed with him entirely. The Earl of Ashcombe was utterly unsuitable, but that was surely up to her decide, not him.

‘The man was a buffoon,’ Lucian said with a sneer. ‘He was not good enough for you. I don’t know what Beatrice was thinking.’

Not good enough for her? That was curious. He couldn’t be jealous, could he?

‘He was good-looking, though, wasn’t he?’ Primrose could not remember if that was the case, but she was curious to see what his reaction would be to such a claim.

He huffed out a dismissive snort, and his lips curled in disapproval. That did look like jealousy. Primrose hoped this time she had read the signs correctly. She rather liked the thought of him being jealous.

‘I suppose some people might think that, if they like puffed-up men who are full of themselves.’

Yes, that sounded suspiciously like jealousy, but how could she be sure? This was something that required further exploration.

‘I wonder whether we would have had more luck with Baron Marchwood,’ she said, frowning and tilting her head as if in thought. ‘Beatrice couldn’t stop extolling his virtues. I lost count of how many times she told me he was an extremely attractive man. Charming was the word I think she used.’ She took a quick glance in his direction. ‘Perhaps he would have made a good husband,’ she added. ‘One worthy of me.’

‘Hmph,’ he responded with a scowl, as if that was all he had to say on that subject.

‘If I’d married him, we could have filled up the back garden with rescued foxes. I wonder if that would have made it easier or more difficult for you to sell your house.’

‘But what about your geese?’ he said immediately, his expression appalled. ‘Your geese and Marchwood’s foxes would never be compatible.’

The outrage in his voice made it impossible for Primrose to keep up this pretence, and a small giggle escaped.

His eyes narrowed, then he suddenly relaxed and smiled back at her. ‘Are you teasing me, Primrose?’

‘I do believe I am,’ she said, and it was such fun. Especially when it resulted in the sight of that glorious smile, the one that transformed his face. The one that caused his brown eyes to sparkle, the contours of his face to soften and his lips to curve. She had no idea how handsome Baron Marchwood was but doubted any man could be more attractive than the one now smiling at her.

His face once again resumed its usual serious countenance. ‘But you have every right to be angry with me.’

‘I do,’ she agreed. ‘Although, as you failed so dismally, maybe you should have consulted with me first regarding potential husbands.’

He raised an eyebrow, still smiling. ‘And what type of man would you be seeking as a potential husband?’