Page 34 of King of Rogues
Tearing his gaze from Lady Euphemia, Monsale quickly scanned the room. Naomi was nowhere to be seen. She might well be content to continue playing games, but she wasn’t to know how pressing time had become. And if push did finally come to shove, he wasn’t going to let Prinny win.
Naomi or no, he was determined to thwart the prince regent’s plans to get his hands on the Monsale title and lands.
Where are you, Naomi?
He longed to see her. To know she was alright. Her words of pain in the carriage kept rolling around in his mind. Had he pushed things too far and actually hurt her?
No. She is playing the game. The first to yield loses.
She was here somewhere; when he had spoken to Harry at the RR Coaching Company offices this afternoon, his friend had expressly told him that his sister was coming to the ball.
Monsale was counting on it. After the passionate embrace the two of them had shared in the Duke of Redditch’s town carriage, tonight would be the perfect opportunity to make her jealous. If she saw him sharing sweet words with Lady Euphemia, Naomi might finally realize that the game was over.
And then I will win.
“Do you dance your grace?”
Monsale stirred from his machinations. He had almost forgotten Lady Marshall was standing next to him.
“I don’t normally make a habit of it. A bit of a clod on the dance floor. But I can make a turn or two about the room,” he replied.
Lady Marshall placed her hand gently on the sleeve of his evening jacket. She nodded in the direction of her daughter and Viscount Walsall. “Euphemia loves to dance; she is quite accomplished.”
“And what about her gentleman friend? The viscount seems somewhat taken with her,” he replied.
If there was going to have to be an awkward conversation about the obvious attraction between his potential bride and another man, it may as well be now.
Lady Marshall softly sighed. “If you make an offer of marriage to my daughter, rest assured I shall take care of Viscount Walsall. Euphemia will be made to come around. Her being a duchess is far more preferable to ever becoming a viscountess.”
Preferable to whom?
He could only wish that Lady Naomi saw things the same way as the countess.
“Well then, I shall be pleased to make your daughter’s acquaintance,” he replied.
Her maid had barely finished lacing up her gown before Naomi was hurrying out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Reaching the foyer, she came to a sudden halt, and quickly rummaged in her reticule. The final notes on Lady Euphemia Marshall were nowhere to be seen.
“Blast,” she whispered.
“Hurry up Naomi. We are already late.” Her father appeared in the front door, motioning to the carriage which stood outside. “Your mother is waiting.”
With no time to head back upstairs and collect her papers, Naomi was left scrambling to remember what she had written about lady number three on Monsale’s list. Lady Euphemia Marshall.
What did I write?
Pleasant. Good family. Well-bred and socially connected.
I was certain there was something about her that rendered her unsuitable.
Half an hour later, she was still trying to recall the exact details as she followed her parents into the grand house on Silver Street. But the moment she set eyes on Lady Euphemia and Viscount Walsall huddled close to one another, a soft smile came to her lips.
That’s it. Euphemia already has an admirer. Her heart is set on the viscount.
Monsale may well be prepared to set his pride aside in order to save his title and lands, but he most certainly wouldn’t stand for a wife who might have it in mind to make him a cuckold. Even he had his limits.
Her grin quickly faded the moment Monsale, and Lady Marshall joined them. Instead of giving Viscount Walsall the cold shoulder, Monsale offered him his hand. Lady Euphemia dipped into an elegant curtsy and smiled.
That looks far too friendly and cozy.
