Page 4 of Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses
“I don’t know why women get sad at moments like this,” he said quietly, gently patting his linen to her cheek, one side, then the other.
“I’m not sad. I’m happy. I’m happy that Tillie’s happy.” Her ability to converse intelligently seemed to have deserted her. “Aren’t you happy for your brother?”
“Absolutely. His marriage takes the pressure off me to provide an heir.”
She wanted to shake her head in frustration but that would cause her to move beyond reach of his tender ministrations. Only the two of them remained in the drive now. His attention was riveted on her face as though he’d only just discovered tears were wet and warm. “Aren’t you pleased he’s found happiness?”
“I suppose.” He moved back, shrugged. “All right. Yes. I’m pleased he seems not to mind the shackles of marriage.”
She heaved a sigh. “Considering your penchant for being involved with actresses, I erroneously assumed you to be a romantic.”
He laughed out loud. “What do you know of my penchant?”
“I’ve heard things.” The night she’d met him, Rexton had insinuated Andrew had been at the theater because of his interest in an actress. “In order to bring excitement to my life, I also read the gossip sheets. Otherwise, it’s just sodull.”
Taking satisfaction in his grimace, she started up the steps.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he called after her.
“Give some thought as to how it was that I did.” She glanced back over her shoulder triumphantly. “Without you even knowing I was there. I suspect, my lord, there is a good deal about me that you underestimate.”
And with that parting shot, she disappeared into the residence.
Chapter 3
Andrew had planned to make his way to the card room and play a few hands before making a discreet exit from the affair and heading to the gaming hells. As a general rule he avoided balls. So he was quite perplexed as to the reasoning behind his now standing off to the side in the grand salon and watching as Gina was swept over the dance floor by one fellow after another.
Not that he, himself, was lacking for company. Several young ladies had approached him, fans waving, eyelashes batting, remarks teasing. He’d smiled and carried on as though he were completely engrossed by their presence, when in fact he seemed incapable of diverting his attention away from Gina.
He owed her an apology for what she’d overheard on the terrace. Most of his words had been designed to get his brother to leave off. If he’d admitted to spending a good deal of his time thinking about Gina, Rex would have hauled him off to Kingsbrook Park with him and his bride. He very nearly shuddered at that thought. His brother in love was a bit much to endure. He did wish him happiness; he just didn’t think Rex needed to be quite so demonstrative with his affections.
The last lady took her feathered fan and fluttering eyelashes off in search of someone more likely to ask her to dance. He’d waltzed with a spinster, a widow, and a debutante but those forays onto the dance floor had been several tunes earlier. While he’d enjoyed his time spent with each partner, something had seemed to be missing. He probably just needed more scotch.
“You should dance with her.”
He very nearly leaped out of his skin at his mother’s quietly spoken words. Raised on the streets, a pickpocket in her youth, the Duchess of Greystone still had the ability to quietly sneak up on people, especially when it was one of her children up to no good.
“Lady Edith is in want of a husband,” he said, referring to the woman who had just left his side. “It would not do to give her any encouragement as I’m not the marrying sort.”
“I wasn’t referring to her, and I think you damn well know it.” His mother didn’t parse words and still had a bit of the street in her. Her hair, once a vibrant red, was now muted with gray. He had little doubt he was responsible for most of it. “I meant Gina.”
“Her dance card is filled.” He’d managed to catch a fleeting glance at it during one of his forays onto the dance floor. Not that he’d been considering asking her for a dance. He’d simply been curious. He knew from discussions with Rex that earlier in the Season she’d had a devil of a time garnering any attention, but with her scandalous sister now married to a marquess, it seemed she was being embraced by all of London. Although his sister, Grace, Duchess of Lovingdon, might have also had a hand in that recent acceptance. She and her friends had apparently taken up Gina’s cause to find a husband. Women were such a conniving lot, holding fast to the false assumption that every man was—if not in want of a wife—at least inneedof one.
“Your father claimed her next waltz, but he’s a bit tired. Perhaps you’d dance with her in his stead.” Even his own mother was devious. Or perhaps it was his father. He was rather surprised the duke had asked Gina for a dance. For years his eyesight had been deteriorating. He and the duchess seldom attended balls, but when they did, the duke only danced with his duchess.
“Your older son warned me to stay clear of her.”
“When have you ever heeded his orders? Besides, it’s only a dance, Andrew. We want to ensure she feels welcomed into the family.”
“Family obligations are so tedious.”
She patted his arm affectionately. “But you’ll do it.”
“I suppose if I must.”
“Don’t sound so put upon. You don’t fool me. You have an interest in the girl.”
“We’d never suit.”
