Page 106 of Pride: The Rogue
“There’s one more guest. The only interesting one. Even more interesting, he’s the only self-made man. The Duchess of Argyll hasn’t let him away from her side. I thought he was the lady’s plaything, but there’s been whispers about a formal arrangement.”
A self-made man.
Livian’s mind immediately went to another self-made man.
Oh, God.
Her heart fresh cracked and broke all over again.
I cannot…
“Livvie?”
Before her sister could ask any more questions that Livian didn’t want to think about the answers to, she looked to the handsome footman stationed at the entrance.
Taking Livian’s cue, the servant stepped forward and announced in a booming voice. “Miss Livian Lovelace.”
All previous conversations taking place around the table came to a jarring stop.
Well, nothing could distract a woman from a broken heart faster than finding herself a low-born oddity with a room of gentlemen staring her way.
Through the singular most humbling moment of Livian’s existence—which considering her life, was saying a great deal.
The guests rose in polite greeting. They considered her with haughty, blue-blooded expressions that made it clear they’d found her wanting.
Livian’s feet twitched with the overwhelming need and urge to flee.
The echo of Lachlan’s voice, husked with passion and wry amusement pierced her misery and grounded her.
“Yea, well in fairness…It remains doubtful whether the highborn lords are actually capable of truly thinking…”
Her lips tugged up at the corners.
Livian managed to look around the room.
She stopped—her gaze locked on the familiar gentleman staring back, and the entire room melted away. She’d thought she’d never see him again, but here he stood.
Joy and disbelief swept through Livian.
Why is he here…?
Except, only one thing made any sense.
Tears of happiness filled her throat.He is here for me!
His angular cheeks and hard, square jawline bore no hint of stubble and his previously tousled dark hair was now drawn neatly back, but there could be no mistaking this man’s identity.
His gloriously masculine features, however, revealed no hint of a like exaltation.
Lachlan’s expression bore an impassivity that cut right through her.
The smile on Livian’s lips grew painfully strained in what felt like a grotesque grin, and then fell altogether.
Is he not happy to see me as I am him?
Or…perhaps it was his being here amidst noble guests he took exception with?
Confusion clouded her head. “Whatare you doing here?” she whispered.
