Page 58 of Stick to the Deal
“True, but I appreciate you being here all the same. This one isn’t as terrible as they usually are, and I’m positive you’re the reason.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Tell that to Lord Fairchild! For years, my mother has been trying to convince him to sponsor the foundation, yet in one night you have him writing a check large enough to build a new hospital wing.” I couldn’t help smiling down at her as she wooed elderly Lord Fairchild, a man who has single-mindedly hated my family for years.
“That big teddy bear?”
I tighten my arm at her waist, pulling her in closer than strictly proper. “You are marvelous. What would I do without you?”
She leans in with catlike grace. “Pray you never find out.”
Damn convention. I lean forward to give her a kiss, but before my lips make contact, a hand lands on my shoulder.
“May I cut in? Never got a chance to dance with the bride at the wedding.” Monty grins at me, waggling his eyebrows.
I look at Nic. She nods, but I see frustration in her eyes. It’s the only solace I have as I let go. My feet take me to the bar, every instinct telling me to go back and drag her away from Monty.
The first scotch goes down like fire. The burn of the second is more welcome, matching my roiling emotions. I set the glass down with a clink as a cloud of pink fabric invades my peripheral vision.
“I’ve missed you, Reggie-bear. We need to talk.”
My stomach drops at her voice. Instead of looking at Serena, I turn and track my wife as she dances across the floor with my brother.
Chapter 30
Inconvenient Feelings
My earlier enjoyment of the night quickly fades as my dance partner draws me in. Where Reginald is a graceful dancer, Montague is forceful. His insistent hand at my waist pulling me in closer than I want to stand. A little too close for polite society, but not to the point that he’s clearly being inappropriate.
“How are you enjoying your first gala?” The scotch is thick on his breath.
“It’s hardly my first—I grew up with all this too.”
“That’s right. It’s still your first Bancroft gala, though.”
I make a noncommittal noise, counting down the seconds until I can excuse myself. Although I haven’t spent much time with Reginald’s younger brother I can tell that he’s everything I hate about London’s upper crust. Entitled and spoiled, to the point he believes he’s invincible. Add on his natural good looks and he thinks all women should fall at his feet.
“Well, that certainly didn’t take long.” Montague’s eyes stare at something behind me. As we take the next bend, I scan the crowd for what might have caught his eye. “I must say, you are a lot more calm about this than most brides would be.”
As we take a turn, I spot Reginald with a young blond woman in a ghastly pink dress. She smiles up at him. There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t place the face. Did he really think a random woman would make me jealous? “There are husbands speaking to women who are not their wives all over this room, Monty.”
“True, buthow many of them are their ex-fiancée?” The air catches in my lungs. I concentrate on maintaining my calm expression, but his eagle eyes catch some of my discomfort. “I’m so sorry. I assumed you knew. Mother was heartbroken it didn’t work out. She and Lady Wentworth are childhood friends, and she was so looking forward to having Serena as a daughter.”
The orchestra plays on, my feet follow along by pure muscle memory while inside, I’m crumbling. The worst part is I don’t even have a right to be jealous. He’s never told me he loves me. We even signed a contract saying our time apart was our own. So why does it feel like someone has kicked me in the chest?
“Looks like things might not be as over as I thought. But, hey, you got the ring on your finger. That means you won, right?” The song ends, and he steps back, again gazing towards the bar.
I follow his eyes and see Reginald and Serena there. She’s leaning close into him, touching his arm, the skirts of her pink ballgown pressed against his leg. From this angle, I can’t see Reginald’s face, but he certainly makes no move to push her away.
The crowd presses together, slowing my path to the bar. Absently, I nod as acquaintances call my name, my eyes only on the hideous pink silk ahead.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Reggie-bear.” The bitch rests her pink tipped claws on Reginald’s arm possessively as I approach from behind him. Her eyes sweep over my body, her lip curling. When she meets my gaze, triumph flashes in the cold blue depths.
My husband steps back from her and closer to me, an unreadable look on his chiseled face.
“Serena, may I present my wife, Nicolette? Darling, I believe you met her parents at the Christmas party. Our mothers are old friends.” Reginald rests his hand on my spine. Instead of the comforting warmth of earlier, it feels like a lie. He gives me a curious look as I step away.
“We’ve met.” I don’t bother turning towards the other woman. “Reginald, your mother was adamant we thank all the donors.”
