The Regency Season: Passionate Promises. Ann Lethbridge
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‘What are you doing here, Priscilla?’ A male voice. ‘The ballroom is at the other end of this corridor.’
The young woman turned to look at whoever had spoken. ‘I was looking for the withdrawing room, Papa. I missed my way.’
‘Not meeting someone, are you, my girl?’ The door swung back.
Freddy swallowed a curse as he faced an irate-faced gentleman. Lord Sparshott, if he recalled correctly.
‘Good God,’ the other man said, his face turning turkey red. ‘Priscilla—’ He halted, and Freddy knew the man had no illusions about what he was seeing.
Sparshott grabbed his daughter’s hand. ‘Come away. This is no place for a decent gel.’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Freddy said, hoping like hell Minette had herself decently covered. ‘I am sure you and your daughter would like to be the first to congratulate Mademoiselle Rideau and me on our betrothal.’
The other man snorted and bowed stiffly. ‘My commiserations, mademoiselle. Come, child.’ He stalked off with his daughter in tow. Just before she disappeared she glanced back over her shoulder. Freddy had the distinct impression there was regret in her eyes.
He closed the door. Hell and damnation, there was no key. Had she planned that, too? He swung around to face her, to assess the full extent of the damage. Thank God she was decently covered, if a bit dishevelled. At a quick glance one could assume it was no more than a kiss they had been sharing in the dark. The dull throb of an arousal denied served to increase his fury.
‘You did it on purpose.’ He kept his expression cool, his emotions under guard. Now was not the time to express his anger.
‘I did not,’ she snapped back, her eyes flashing fire.
A fire he would like to have put to better use than an argument, but it was far too late. He was dished. Done up. Betrothed, when he had planned never to marry.
‘Turn around.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘Are you going to—?’
‘No, I’m bloody well not. I’m going to see you properly laced and back into the ballroom. We have to break the good news to Gabe and Nicky before the gossip gets out of hand.’
‘Oh.’
Damn it, had that been disappointment he’d heard in her voice? That they wouldn’t finish what they’d started? His body twitched appreciatively at the very idea as she turned around and let him fix what he had undone. Hell and damnation, the girl had made him lose all sense of civility and reason. He should never have met her alone. It had been far too long since he’d taken a woman to his bed. Surrounded by women in the brothel had given him a distaste of coldly commercial transactions. And, if he was honest, seeing Gabe’s marital happiness had made him want more. No wonder the first brush of Minette’s skin against his palm had sent all his good intentions going up in the flames of lust. Because she was the one woman he had always wanted and could never have for the flick of a finger.
And now he was trapped. After years of him denying his unwanted attraction out of respect for Gabe, who knew of his vow never to marry. Who knew dalliance was all he ever wanted or needed. As Gabe’s ward, Minette deserved far better than he would ever be. And a far better life than he could offer. Finished with the buttons and lacings, he spun her round to face him. ‘You and your little friend have properly put us in the basket. There’s no backing out of this, you know. We are shackled for life.’
She lifted her chin, her eyes huge and roiling with emotion. ‘I didn’t plan it, you idiot. You kissed me, remember? And, besides, it will be forgotten in a week.’
‘It won’t. Of all people, you had to pick Sparshott’s daughter to help in your schemes. He’s one of the biggest sticklers I know. You can be sure he won’t let people forget, even after we tie the knot.’
‘Mon Dieu. You will stop saying I planned this. She saw my hem was torn and offered to help. I said no. She followed me of her own accord.’
‘A happy coincidence, then,’ he said, trying to bury his frustration. There was no sense in being angry. What was done was done.
She eyed him speculatively, as if she didn’t believe his resignation to his fate, and dug in her reticule. ‘You had better pin up my hem before we go back.’ She handed him some pins.
Grimacing, Freddy fell to one knee and worked on reattaching the delicate flounce.
The door opened to admit a grim-looking Gabe.
‘How very touching,’ he drawled, his expression as hard as granite.
‘Don’t be an ass,’ Freddy said, placing the last pin. He leaped to his feet, grabbed Minette’s hand and gave his friend a smile he did not feel. Although there was something satisfying in the feel of that small gloved hand within his palm, as if it belonged there. ‘We were about to come and find you and share our good news. You can be the first to congratulate us on our betrothal.’
The grimness around Gabe’s mouth did not ease. ‘I gather, then, that Sparshott did not offer his felicitations.’
Sarcasm. From his friend. They’d often disagreed, but they’d always had mutual respect. ‘It was a rather awkward moment.’
Minette’s hand quivered in his. His spine stiffened, the tension growing second by second as he prayed her temper wasn’t such that she would deny their engagement and send Gabe’s anger over the edge. He was a good friend, but when it came to his women he was very protective. Renewed anger simmered in his own veins. At her role in driving a wedge between him and a man he’d come to think of as a brother. He held Gabe’s gaze without flinching. ‘Well, aren’t you going to wish us happiness?’
Gabe blew out a breath and stuck out a reluctant hand. ‘Congratulations.’
The tension in his neck eased as he shook it. He glanced down at Minette and realised she wasn’t looking any happier than he felt. He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Gabe. Our passion got the better of us when we realised we both wanted this. We should have come to speak to you and Nicky right away.’
‘We will talk more in the morning. You will both come with me now.’ Gabe shot a glance at Minette. ‘We need to look like a family with joyous news.’
A bright smile appeared on Minette’s lips. ‘Bien sûr,’ she said gaily. ‘Très heureux. Is it not so, my dearest Freddy?’
‘Without question,’ he replied, with an equally false smile.
God help him, what a mess.
* * *
To Minette’s acutely sensitive emotions, it seemed as if the buzz of conversation ceased when she and Freddy entered the ballroom. But it resumed too quickly to be sure. She held her head high, showing not a scrap of shame on her face. The heat she felt on her cheeks was caused by her anger at Freddy’s assumption that she had intended to trick him into marriage.
Why she would care so deeply