Page 52 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

“Then I must rectify that situation immediately.” He extended his arm, a broad smile on his face. She looked up at the man towering over her. Not classically handsome, nevertheless his strong features drew the attention of many of the young ladies. He was slender, yet still filled out his jacket well. His dark hair was done in one of those fancy styles she did not particularly like, but overall, his appearance was quite pleasing.

Why should she sit out the dance and supper in the ladies’ retiring room? Hadn’t she done enough of that before she married, avoiding the old men her mother pushed on her? She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “I will be happy to accompany you, my lord.”

He swept her into his arms, and they joined the couples on the floor. He was an excellent dancer and kept up a lively conversation.

But he wasn’t Nash.

Lord Munro turned her, and she got a glimpse of Nash and Lady Walthrop. She was happy to see Nash looking around, his lips tightening when his eyes rested on her. She took the opportunity to gaze up at Lord Munro and laughed as if he’d said something funny.

They spent the rest of the dance glaring at each other every time they came into view. The supper was no better. Lord Munro offered to have them sit with Nash and Lady Walthrop. She declined, since she wasn’t completely sure she would not dump her supper plate in the woman’s lap.

He seemed uncomfortable with the situation, and even though he tried, very hard, to entertain her, she only gave Lord Munro scant attention. No sooner had she put down her fork than Nash was by her side. “I believe you indicated a desire to return home once supper was finished?”

Arabella looked around, but Lady Walthrop was nowhere to be seen. “Yes. I am feeling a bit weary.” She smiled at Lord Munro. “If you will excuse me, my lord.” She stood and took Nash’s arm, and they strolled around the room on the way to the exit. They were stopped a few times and exchanged pleasantries.

The entire time Arabella was stiff as a board, and the muscles in Nash’s arm were tight under her hand. Neither looked at the other, and their comments to other guests were no more than inane platitudes.

Eventually they found themselves in the entrance hall, waiting for their carriage. Nash helped her on with her pelisse and handed her reticule to her. They were the only guests waiting for a carriage, since the orchestra had started up again.

Arabella had her arms wrapped around her body, trying to protect herself from the feelings racing through her. She had never wanted any of this. Why did she care if he preferred someone else? They had no claim on each other. Husbands and wives were not supposed to live in each other’s pockets anyway. From what she’d seen, many of them did not even attend the same affairs.

She had a nice life. Mother was taken care of, she had her animals, a lovely home, and one day there would probably be a child or two.

An heir and a spare, then you go you can go your own way, too.

There was no fighting it. For better or worse, this was their world.

Nash took her arm and helped her down the stairs. Once she was in the carriage, he held the door open and called up to the driver. “Keep driving until I tap on the ceiling.”

Whatever did that mean? If he thought to complain to her again about the men she’d danced with, he would find she had quite a bit to say to him, as well.

Nash settled in across from her. They remained silent until the carriage was well on its way from Kensington’s townhouse. “Did you have a nice time this evening?” The tightness in his voice sparked something fierce in her.

“Oh my, yes. I had a wonderful time. I enjoyed so many dances with so many handsome and attentive men. It was truly delightful.”

“Don’t…” He growled. His eyes narrowed, and his finger tapped a cadence on his thigh.

She raised her brows at him. “Don’t?”

“Do not say anything else.” He rolled his neck as if to relieve tension.

“I am sorry, my lord. I was under the impression you asked me a question.”

Before the words were completely out of her mouth, Nash reached across the small space and wrapping his hands around her arms, pulled her over to his side. She landed on his lap. “What—”

He placed both of his hands on her head and took her mouth w

ith a savage intensity.

Chapter Seventeen

Still gripping her head, Nash pushed her back, staring into her eyes, seeking consent. She watched him back, not with fear or anger, but with a passionate fire he’d never seen before, but certainly recognized.

With a growl worthy of a wild animal claiming its mate, he regained her lips, crushing her body to his. He was not looking for softness or gentleness tonight. What he needed from her right now was brutal, passionate surrender. To show her to whom she belonged.

He was crazy. That was the only explanation. He had lost his mind. This woman had turned him into an addlebrained fool whose future, no doubt, rested in Bedlam. Watching one man after another stare at her beauty, receive her smile, and ogle the creamy expanse of skin above her neckline had pushed him over the brink of the sanity he normally possessed.

Mine. Only mine.