Page 63 of An Earl to Remember
The gentle air of anxiety visibly fell away from her. “Thank you, Daniel,” Johanna said with a coquettish smile, delicately pushing her body against his. “Will you dance with me?”
He peered at her ravishing beauty, willing himself to be tempted by the raunchy delights her stare promised. Yet Daniel only saw golden-brown eyes brimming with laughter, sweetness, and passion. He hissed under his breath, scrubbed a hand over his face, and gently eased Johanna from his body. Even that she was pressed so against him felt like an offense and a betrayal.
“I am not interested. And to be clear, Lady Wimpole, you shoved me overboard in petty, thoughtless anger. I will forgive you, but your actions will not be forgettable. You not calling out to the captain or any member of the crew or staff after I fell, effectively leaving me to die in the frigid waters of the English Channel, has revealed a character that I can never let close to my circle ever again. Do not approach me going forward or you will feel the full measure of my displeasure.”
Her eyes flared with her alarm, and before she could protest, Daniel walked away. Music and laughter blending into a canopy of sensual sounds, an invitation to relax and slide into pleasure, but he felt bored. The awareness did not startle him, and with a frown, Daniel realized he felt…empty.
I never once felt empty in Crandell.
Dark amusement wafted through him at the inane thought. That yawning boredom tugged at him, and he went outside onto the terrace window, lifting his face to the sky.
Footsteps padded closer, and Moncrieff stood a few feet from him, lazily lighting a cheroot. “You are not tempted to indulge?”
“No.”
His friend cast him a considering stare. “You seem different.”
“I am unchanged.”
“Are you certain all your memories have returned?”
A humorless smile touched Daniel’s mouth. “I am unchanged.”
Repeating it did not make the distance growing inside of him lessen. Dipping into his pocket, he withdrew a cheroot and lit it, blowing out a plume of smoke.
“I have two delectable ladies awaiting my attention in a room upstairs. Join me.”
“No.” The sooner he could withdraw from this very tiresome affair, the better.
Moncrieff’s low laugh felt like a mockery. “I am off to visit Lord Shelton’s stud estate tomorrow. Will you accompany me?”
“I have other matters to attend.”
“Matters more important than purchasing the most sought-after stallions for your famed stables?”
“Yes.”
“Oh?”
“A visit to my wife is due, I’m afraid.”
Shock slackened Moncrieff’s jaw. “What bloody wife?”
A humorless smile tugged at Daniel’s mouth, even as hunger and want trembled through him with such stunning force, he sucked in a harsh breath.
Yes, a visit to Crandell is needed.
Chapter Seventeen
Mr. Hayle and Mrs. Hayle’s large drawing room was filled with the elites of Crandell, all sipping champagne from elegant flutes and eating delicacies which Georgianna herself had prepared only a few hours earlier. The orchestra played quite beautifully, and several ladies and gentlemen stomped and hopped to the music, creating a lively, appealing atmosphere.
She scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dear sister, who had far more honor than Georgianna could own to. Lizzie had not wanted to announce an engagement without Mr. Hayle’s parents’ blessings and had encouraged him to meet with them before the announcement to their guests. Mr. Hayle had at first resisted, but Lizzie had held firm in her beliefs.
A peculiar grief sat heavy against Georgianna’s heart. According to Miss Beatrice, Mr. Hayle’s younger sister, Lizzie, Mr. Hayle, and their parents had been locked away in the study for almost thirty minutes. That the Hayles ignored their guests in this manner suggested something serious or calamitous had happened. More than once, Georgianna had wondered if she should intrude on their private meeting, fearing Lizzie might need an advocate. Yet the memory of Lizzie’s plea this morning to trust her and allow her to navigate some waters on her own stopped Georgianna.
A footman walked by, deftly balancing a tray of champagne, and she snagged a glass, taking several sips to steady her nerves. She would not let them off if the Hayles forced their son to set Lizzie aside. But what power did she have to ensure they accepted her sister and their son’s choices?
She emptied the glass, her thoughts furiously churning.
