Evangeline sat on a settee with her aunt, sipping a cordial and doing her damnedest not to look at him.
Lady Grace and Lady Louisa, two of the shyer noblewomen, watched him with interest but never beckoned to him or planted themselves in his path as Lady Maribel was doing now.
“Lord Rothwell, I’ve saved you a spot,” the conniving debutante said with a beaming smile.
He couldn’t forget her antics in the library, and though she’d stayed within the bounds of propriety since the incident, he didn’t trust her a bit.
“I think I’ll sit here for now,” he told her as he took a chair near the settee where Lady Grace and Lady Louisa perched.
Both ladies went wide-eyed, and Lady Louisa made a disappointed moue and began fanning herself.
“How are you enjoying the house party, ladies?”
Gray tried to be polite and keep his focus fixed on them while they assured him that they were having a marvelous time, but his attention was locked on Evangeline. And the moment her gaze turned his way, a little flame of hope flickered to life in his chest.
He forced himself to smile and nod at the noblewomen beside him, but he reveled in having the attention of the one woman whose interest he desperately craved.
The dinner gong sounded only a moment later, and Gray accompanied the two shy but suddenly talkative noble ladies in to dinner.
As before, and maddeningly, Evangeline was seated on the same side of the table as he was but several guests down, so he couldn’t speak to her as he wished. Of course, everything he truly wanted to say needed to be done privately.
So he ate the meal and tasted none of it, his mind consumed with how he might steal a moment to speak to her alone.
Over an hour later, the party split into two—the ladies returning to the drawing room and the gentlemen to the billiard room. The pattern was becoming familiar. But tonight would be different in that the aunts had decided to forgo parlor games, and dancing was to commence in Carthwaite’s ballroom within the hour.
Gray struggled to remain attentive to the conversation as the five other noblemen played pool. It wasn’t a game he favored, so he tended to watch and sip at whiskey. Tonight, however, he was determined to be clear-headed.
“I say, Rothwell, what are your thoughts on Lady Grace?” Jameson’s eyes glinted with an energy Gray had yet to see in the man.
“She’s lovely and accomplished, as are all the ladies my aunt invited.” Aside from Lady Maribel, Gray couldn’t find fault with any of the young women selected. Each lady likely possessed qualities that would make them a fine bride. For another man.
Gray could only think of one woman, only wanted one woman.
“But do you plan to show her any particular favor, man?” Jameson drew closer. His color was high, and Gray wondered whether it was liquor, or the man was well and truly smitten.
“I take it you’d like to do so.” Gray let out a chuckle he couldn’t repress. He’d suspected that at least one match would be made between the bachelors the aunts had invited and one of the eligible ladies.
“If you would not be offended, then yes. I wish to offer for the lady.” Jameson was almost vibrating with excitement at the prospect.
“You have my blessing.” Gray reached out to shake the nobleman’s hand but held it when Jameson attempted to release his hold. “But,” he said in a warning tone, “I offer my blessing assuming you will treat her well. Ladies have opinions, Jameson. Get used to it. Embrace it.”
“Of course,” the nobleman grumbled. “Wouldn’t wish to marry her if I didn’t plan to treat her well.”
“You barely know her,” Lord Montgomery said drily.
“That’s not entirely true.” Jameson shot each of them a sheepish look. “You see, Lady Grace and I were acquainted as children. Our families resided in neighboring London townhouses for a time. Hadn’t seen her in years.” His brow arched when he looked at Gray. “I had no intentions toward the lady when I accepted the invitation. I swear it, Rothwell.”
“I believe you.”
“But seeing her again, speaking to her…” He swigged back a hearty gulp of liquor. “Perhaps there was more between us before than I acknowledged. Feels a bit fated.” He turned his gaze toward the carpet after that comment as if abashed at the fervency of his feelings.
“I understand,” Gray told him. “More than you can know.”
The way he felt about Evie had begun in those days when they were confidantes as children. She’d always been the one he could trust and rely upon. But in the last few years, she’d become a temptation. Seeing her at each ball her aunt hosted and never getting more than the rejection she offered every man had made him unsure of her opinion about him.
But the moment they’d kissed, his doubts began ebb, and he could acknowledge the depth of his own feelings.
When a footman collected them a few minutes later to let them know the ladies were proceeding to the ballroom, Gray stayed behind a moment. He drew in a deep breath, straightened his cuffs, squared his shoulders, and headed toward the stairs.
