Page 16 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

“Since we are betrothed, my dear, perhaps I can convince you to leave off with the ‘my lord’ and call me by name?”

No time like the present. “Yes, Clarendon.” Goodness, was that her voice? She sounded like a squealing mouse with a cat on its tail.

He grinned. “Actually, I prefer Nash.”

“Nash?”

“Yes, my given name. Once I assumed my father’s title, for all the world, I was Clarendon. However, my mother and sister have never relinquished the name I answered to for years.”

“And now you wish me to use that name, as well?” Dear God.

He studied her from under thick, dark eyelashes. Was there no part of the man not attractive?

“Unless that makes you uncomfortable?”

Uncomfortable? She wanted to jump from the curricle and run screaming back to her house. To sanity. “No, my lo—Nash. I am not uncomfortable at all.”

Liar.

She cleared her throat. “However, there is something I’d like to discuss that does make me uncomfortable.”

One arrogant eyebrow rose.

“I must insist, as I did last evening, that there is no need for a betrothal. If you wish to pretend to be engaged for a—very short—period of time, I believe that will be sufficient to ward off any talk of ‘ruination.’”

“No.”

A slow burning started in her stomach. “I insist.”

“No.”

Her fingers tightened on her parasol handle. She had to stamp down the very strong urge to smack him over the head with it. “I think I deserve the right to have a say in this.”

“No.”

A parasol would not be strong enough. Perhaps a heavy rock along the pathway would suffice. Using two hands she could probably lift it.

“Smile,” he said, nodding to three older ladies of the ton passing them by.

She gritted her teeth, moving her mouth into a semblance of a smile. A Hyde Park afternoon ride was famous among the Quality. The latest fashions were flaunted, and the most recent on dits shared and remarked upon. Marriage-minded mamas displayed their daughters to their best advantage while taking note of the young gentlemen, assessing wealth and titles. The idea was to see, and be seen.

Like all other young ladies of Society, Arabella had accepted her share of carriage rides. Oftentimes with her mother, once or twice with a gentleman and her maid, and many times with friends.

This ride was like no other. The minute their carriage joined the queue, heads turned in their direction and fans rose to cover gossiping mouths. Arabella refused to succumb to the desire to duck her head. Instead, she raised her chin and smiled in the direction of the carriages they passed.

“Good girl. Do not let them intimidate you.” Nash spoke to her out of the side of his mouth, keeping his eyes on the carriage in front of them.

“I have no intention of allowing any such thing.” The statement would perhaps be more benign had her voice not snapped with anger. Who were these people to judge her?

“I believe conversation would be pleasant.” Nash turned to her and smiled. “Remember, the purpose of this ride is to assure all is well. As a newly betrothed couple, we are supposed to be enjoying ourselves. Please forgive my poor manners, but right now you look as though you could snap the handle of your parasol in half. Or at least strike someone over the head with it. Hopefully, not me.”

“The thought did cross my mind, but I feel it is not strong enough to do sufficient damage to your hard head. Just because we are in full view of the gossipers of the world, do not think I have accepted your edict on marriage. We will discuss this further when we leave the park.”

Arabella attempted a smile for the gawkers. Then, thinking about the ridiculousness of it all, she gave Nash a genuine grin. Again, the same look flitted across his face she’d witnessed in her entrance hall. Whatever was that all about?

“Actually, I am enjoying myself.” Startled, she realized it was true. The threat of rain had diminished, and sun peeked out from behind now-scattered clouds. With the sun visible, the air had warmed up a bit. She rode alongside a handsome man, in a stylish carriage, among fashionable people. ’Twas the first time that had occurred, since all her prior male carriage companions had been men older than her mother.

Since nothing would be resolved right now, she relaxed and actually looked around. Brightly colored carriage dresses decorated the path as young ladies rode, walked, or trotted on horseback.