Page 16 of Earl for the Summer
She stood just as he’d left her, her pale green gown’s beads and her honey-gold hair shimmering in the lantern light. Her expression was guarded, but her gaze held him fixed in place.
“I will help you,” she said. “But with one condition.”
His brows lifted as hope stirred in his chest. “Name it.”
“If I determine you’re not the best match for my friend,” she said, her tone cool, “I will end our arrangement. Entirely.”
He held her gaze. “You mean to assess my character then.”
“You’re asking me to help you court a dear friend. I think that entitles me to form an opinion.”
There was something noble in the way she stood—like a ship riding steady in high seas. Proud. Unwavering. So lovely that it almost hurt.
“I accept your terms,” he said quietly. “Though I suspect I’ve already failed the initial assessment.”
She offered no denial or agreement. “That still remains to be seen.”
He almost smiled, but he didn’t trust himself to do so without revealing far too much. He’d been trained to keep his bearings in all manner of weather at sea, but he sensed that Miss Daphne Bridewell was the sort of tempest who could upend all his intentions.
“Youhavechanged,” she said firmly.
The words struck at his guilt, as if she knew of his duplicity, and he squared his shoulders. “Have I?”
“You used to seem…lighter. More carefree.”
He studied her face, desperate to know what she truly saw when she looked at him. “And now?”
She hesitated. “Now I don’t know.”
Neither did he because he’d certainly never expected to arrive in London and be bewitched within the space of two days.
“If anyone can suss me out, I suspect you can.” He gave her a short bow, forcing himself not to say more, not to reach for her hand. Because he wouldn’t offer some chaste kiss on her knuckles. He’d press his mouth to her wrist to feel the beat of her pulse, he’d savor the taste her skin, and then she’d know precisely what sort of man he was.
She didn’t smile or soften her stance, but she nodded. And her willingness, even with all her obvious wariness, felt like a victory.
She hadn’t sent him away, and, for now, that was enough.
CHAPTER 4
Why did I ever agree to this?
Daphne had asked herself the question dozens of times since impulsively calling Lord Windham back to her in the Harringtons’ garden. It had been a moment of weakness. Or foolishness. Possibly both.
But for some reason she couldn’t bear to watch him walk away and never have reason to speak to her again.
Yet even now, as she stood along the edge of the Bancrofts’ grand ballroom, watching Selina beside him while the musicians tuned their instruments, her doubts multiplied. It was painfully obvious that the earl needed no assistance wooing anyone. Selina seemed convivial in his company.
Daphne forced herself to stop gaping at them and made her way toward a small group of wallflowers—young ladies she’d met on the edges of many dance floors this Season. She greeted them with warmth. Ivy had begged off tonight, pleading a headache, and without her sister’s easy wit and sharp tongue, Daphne felt a bit lost. Still, she smiled. She conversed. She pretended not to feel out of place.
But as soon as she’d taken up her spot against the wall, her eyes betrayed her again. They sought him out. Across theballroom, their gazes clashed the moment he stepped closer to the floor with Selina.
They were going to dance the waltz.
A flare of something hot and bright shot through Daphne’s chest. Not quite jealousy, but something undeniable. And unwanted.
Daphne looked away, looking across at the far wall, as if staring at the gilded molding might somehow help her stem feelings she had no right to.
But then the waltz began, and when she glanced over again, he still stood at the dance floor’s edge, while Selina spun around the parquet in the Marquess of Strathmere’s arms.
