Page 50 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

“I know you are recently married, but you might as well learn the way of it. Your mother should have told you. But if she hasn’t, then I will.” She leaned in close, the smell of her breath bringing tears to Arabella’s eyes. “Men have mistresses.”

Arabella continued to stare at her. “Mistresses?”

“Yes. You might as well accept it, gel. Get what you can from him in the way of jewels, gowns, and trips. Give him an heir and a spare and then go your own way, too.” She winked.

Arabella drew back, running her tongue over her lips. “If you will excuse me, my lady.”

Despite wanting to rush from the room to the patio to get fresh air, her way was blocked by one man after another, requesting dances. As soon as she reached out to open the door, a large hand covered hers. “Where are you off to? I thought you were thirsty.”

She turned and gave Nash a bright smile. “I felt the need for some air. ’Tis quite crowded in here.”

Nash took her hand, intertwining their fingers, and escorted her out the door, still holding two glasses of champagne in his other hand. He led her to an empty table and placed the drinks down. “You do look a bit flushed.” He joined her and slid a glass in front of her.

Should she come right out and ask him?

I am just curious, my lord. How is your mistress?

Trying not to be obvious, she studied him under lowered lashes. He certainly was handsome enough. Even though she’d known him for a while through Eugenia, she’d never taken particular notice of his looks. It was well known among the Quality that the Earl of Clarendon was an excellent catch. Even after he had turned his attention to Lady Grace, the other young ladies had continued to do whatever it was they could, within the bounds of propriety, to gain his notice.

After the display she’d seen this evening, with women, young and old, following him with their eyes, it appeared he was still quite popular with the ladies. Something ugly inside of her twisted and called out to let the world know Lord Clarendon was taken. He was hers. Maybe not by choice, but nevertheless, still hers.

“What? You’re looking at me like you want to snap my head off.” Nash took the last sip of his drink.

She would never let him know she was jealous. Of course, she wasn’t jealous, only that she did not want to be made a fool of by having women draped all over her husband in public. “It seemed to take quite a long time for you to bring my drink.”

His eyes grew wide. “A long time?” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Not as long as it took you to make your way through the ballroom what with stopping every man in your path so he could write his name on your dance card.”

Arabella gritted her teeth. “They were stopping me. I was anxious to wade through the crowd and inhale some fresh air.”

Nash opened his mouth to speak when a voice interrupted them. “Oh, here you are my lady. ’Tis time for our dance.” Lord Applegate walked toward them, his hand extended.

“Her foot hurts,” Nash snapped.

Arabella’s jaw dropped. “No, it doesn’t!” She stood and took Lord Applegate’s hand. Whatever was the matter with him? If she didn’t know better, she would think he was jealous of the attention she was getting. Foolish thought, that.

He stood and walked with them to the ballroom doors. “I am glad to see you are feeling better, my dear. If you wish to return home, I will be happy to escort you.”

She drew herself up and cast him her stoniest glare. “No, thank you. I am fine. Please excuse us.” Wanting to slap the silly grin off Lord Applegate’s face, she glared in his direction, too, and then placed her hand on his arm.

Not as muscular as Nash’s.

They joined the line of dancers just as the music started up.

…

Nash leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched Arabella and Applegate as they joined the dance. He felt like a fool and wanted more than anything to take back his stupid remark about her foot. Applegate was still grinning.

The idiot.

He smelled her scent before he saw her. Overpowering roses and some other mysterious fragrance. With a slight groan, he turned to face Lady Walthrop. If the woman took in a deep breath, her charms would tumble out of her bodice. She leaned against him, her fan tapping his chest. “I have been looking for you, my lord.”

“Indeed?”

She raised her slender arm and waved her hand back and forth so the card tied there swung in front of his face. “I do not see your name on my dance card.” She grinned. “A mistake, I am sure.”

&nbs

p; He bowed. “Of course. It is just that I have not seen you yet this evening.”