Page 7 of Earl for the Summer
“Your leg won’t be fully healed.”
“No, I am aware.” Julian’s vehemence twisted his features, and for a moment, Cassian saw himself reflected in his brother’s face. “Even though it won’t be fully tip-top, I will hobble to her doorstep if I must and offer for my countess myself.” Julian reached for Cassian’s hand, squeezing until his knuckles blanched. “She’s the one for me, Cass. I know it. I cannot lose the chance to win her.”
Cassian closed his eyes and pinched the skin between his brows. His head pulsed like a drumbeat. He sensed the folly of this falsehood before he’d even agreed to it.
Yet when he opened his eyes and saw the hope in his brother’s—so much like his own—he could no longer refuse him.
Though his gut twisted in protest, he heard himself say, “Go on then. Tell me what I need to know about this Lady Selina Lytton.”
CHAPTER 2
Belgravia
One week later
Gaslight chandeliers conspired with candlelit sconces to make the Ellburtons’ ballroom as bright as the cloudless July day had been. Blessedly, the evening had turned cool and their hostess had the long windows in the elegant London townhouse opened to admit the breeze, though it barely stemmed the heat in the overcrowded room. But Lady Ellburton must have emptied Covent Garden of every rose available, for their sweet scent filled the air.
“Please don’t worry. He’s not in attendance this evening,” Ivy whispered to Daphne as they stood side by side in a strategically selected spot on the far side of the ballroom.
It allowed Daphne and her younger sister a clear view of the gathering and each guest who entered the ballroom. Every social event since the night she’d learned of Moreland’s intentions had become a nerve-jangling misery for Daphne. More than anything, she feared another run-in with the blackguard.
“I hope I never see him again.”
“I’ll deal with him if he ever dares approach you.” Ivy clenched her fists at that pronouncement.
Daphne’s mouth turned up in a half-smile.
Ivy had made a collection of colorful friends in the London ladies’ club she’d joined. One, a lady pugilist, had taught her some basic fighting skills, and it seemed Ivy was eager to put them to use on Moreland.
Daphne had last seen him the night he’d slipped her the note—the evening her heart had shattered into jagged pieces.
Moreland hadn’t even sought an explanation when she failed to appear for their tryst. Perhaps word had got to him about the state she’d been in later in the evening. Her tears had been hard to hide, though she’d swiped at them furiously. Then Selina, her closest friend among the Season’s debutantes, had insisted they walk in the gardens until Daphne felt better.
Yet she hadn’t felt better since that night. Not truly. All her hopes for what the Season might bring had been smashed. She no longer cared about being courted or receiving a marriage proposal. Selina was the reason Daphne continued to accept invitations, show her face, and risk encountering the skunk who’d hurt her more than anyone ever had.
Though Selina insisted Daphne shouldn’t let anything mar her Season, Daphne’s only goal now was to protect her impressionable friend from blighters like Moreland and his ilk.
So, she stood along the far edge of the Ellburtons’ ballroom, just a few feet from Selina, watching as handsome young bachelors attempted to catch her eye. And she didn’t miss how other debutantes whispered about Selina in jealous tones behind their fans either.
At eighteen, Lady Selina was two years younger than Daphne, the same age as Ivy, and they’d quickly established a warm rapport at various balls and soirees in the early weeks of the Season. Selina was quiet, as Daphne tended to be, and muchmore comfortable observing from the edges of a soiree than being the focus of attention.
But she’d been declared the Season’s diamond, so she had to endure more attention than she’d ever sought. Indeed, the day after a gossip sheet referred to her as the diamond, Selina had called in at Edgerton House to visit Daphne and cried on and off for hours. They’d discussed how she might weather the storm of scrutiny and suitors.
Daphne had promised they’d conquer the Season together. And now, after the…incidentwith Sebastian Moreland, Daphne was even more determined to remain close and watchful.
She’d confessed all to Selina, of course, wanting to ensure that Moreland and his friends, who her sister Ivy had eventually helped her identify, kept their distance from her sweet, trusting friend.
Daphne no longer cared about being wooed or courted. She’d happily become a wallflower and soon realized there was much to be learned when one observed from the sidelines and blended into the wallpaper. And she wasn’t alone. Ivy was content to stand in wallflower row beside her.
“I don’t know why Lord Montclair still buzzes around Selina,” Ivy murmured, her gaze fixed on a tall, auburn-haired noblewoman who’d caught the eye of many debutantes. “He offered for Miss Cartwright just last night.”
Daphne sipped at tepid lemonade and side-eyed her sister. “Was it in the gossip sheets already?”
“Not that I saw.” Ivy consumed scandal sheets and gossip rags avidly.
“Then how do you know?”
“The Cartwright’s maid is friends with Jilly.”
