Page 51 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

She pouted, something that had probably looked adorable when she was the darling of the ton, but now appeared false and contrived. “I will not accept that, my lord. You looked directly at me when you first arrived.”

When he’d been watching all the men who were ogling his wife.

“Then it is definitely time to have my vision checked, my lady.” He took her card and scribbled his name on an empty spot.

She glanced at the card. “Oh, how wonderful. You have the supper waltz.” Before he could say anything, she patted his cheek and said, “Now I must be off. Mr. Garvey has the next dance.” She swept away, leaving behind her scent and his stomach in knots.

Bloody hell. How would he explain to Arabella that Lady Walthrop had claimed the supper dance? That also meant his wife would be free to waltz with someone else and then take supper with him. That yet-unknown man would be free to gaze at her rounded breasts each time she took a breath.

Said unknown libertine was a dead man.

Two young ladies strolled up to him with Lord Abbott. The man introduced them as his sister, Lady Miranda, and her friend, Miss Ellis. Both ladies were young, most likely fresh out of the schoolroom. Exactly the type of girl he’d been avoiding most of his adult life until he had decided to take a bride and focused on Lady Grace. But now, it mattered not, since he was married.

Being the proper gentleman, he wrote his name on their dance cards and waited for his wife to finish her dance with Applegate. Once they joined their little circle, Nash spotted Lord Dressen across the room, speaking with another member of the House of Lords. Finding the perfect opportunity to convince the man to support his bill, he excused himself from the group and headed in the man’s direction.

No sooner had they begun to talk than the next dance started. He explained the necessity of passing the bill all the while watching Arabella dance a lively country dance with Marshall. Did she have to bounce up and down so much? Her breasts were having a fine time with all that jiggling, and Marshall was having as good of a time studying them. Once he blackened the man’s eyes it would be some time before he could leer at another woman.

“I say, Clarendon, you seem a bit distracted.” Dressen regarded him through his quizzing glass.

“My apologies.” He pulled his attention away from Arabella and tried his best to concentrate on what the man was rambling on about. He’d already gotten his assurance he would vote in favor of the bill. Now he was regaling Nash with stories about his hounds.

More animals. He was truly cursed.

He finally disentangled himself from Dressen and hailed Lord Tamlin. Twice, his conversation with him was interrupted by promised dances to young ladies. In the meantime, he’d lost track of Arabella. He’d catch her laughing and dancing with some gentleman, and then she’d be gone again.

The orchestra had been silent for some time when Nash finally realized the music had stopped. The noise from all the various conversations was beginning to give him a headache. He said his farewell to Tamlin and began to search for Arabella. He turned suddenly when there was a light tap on his shoulder.

“The orchestra is returning. It is time for the supper waltz.” Arabella beamed at him, causing him to break into a smile. She was flushed from all the dancing, her hair was not quite as set as it had been when they’d arrived, and she looked absolutely beautiful.

“It appears you have been having a good time.” He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her wrist, wishing it was bare skin and not her glove.

“Yes. But I believe I am ready for some supper, and then maybe a return home?” Her voice was low and sultry, and she tilted her head in a coquettish manner.

His blood boiled, and his cock shouted “hurrah.” Precisely what he had in mind. The first notes of the waltz began just as Lady Walthrop tapped him on the arm. He’d completely forgotten about her and now wished he had left earlier. Arabella viewed her with raised eyebrows.

“I believe you indicated your desire to have me for the supper waltz, my lord?” She held up the dance card dangling from her wrist, her eyes telling him she worded her statement as she had on purpose.

He turned his head to where Arabella stood next to him. He could probably cook his dinner over the steam coming from her ears. He stepped closer to Lady Walthrop, afraid for her well-being. His wife took in an exceptionally deep breath and raised her chin. “I will see you after supper, my lord.” With that pronouncement, she turned on her heel and moved away from him.

Lady Walthrop gave him a siren’s smile. “The music is starting.”

He took her hand in his and led her to the dance floor. He kept a decent amount of space between them, even though his dance partner seemed to have other ideas.

Bloody, bloody hell.

…

I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. The words pounded in Arabella’s head as she pushed her way through the throng of dancers and headed for the ladies’ retiring room. She kept a smile plastered on her face.

How dare the man arrange to have the supper waltz and meal with that trollop? She was hanging all over him, patting him on the chest, and staring up into his eyes. Eyes she wanted to scratch out.

Is Lady Walthrop his mistress?

The thought almost brought her to her knees. She’d best take a deep breath and compose herself. She was beginning to think like a jealous wife. She was not a jealous wife. If he wanted to take mistresses, it would not be her concern.

Then why did the thought of Nash doing all the wonderful things he did to her to another woman cause her stomach to cramp? Too confused and hurt to overly examine her feelings, she almost made it out of the ballroom when Lord Munro stepped in front of her. “Lady Clarendon! Certainly, surely you are not without a partner?”

“It seems I am, my lord.” Well, apparently, her brain and mouth still functioned.