be stretched to accommodate two people in meagre comfort, but James would never accept that from her.
What would become of him?
She stared into the street with unseeing eyes. After all, how much time would she really be in his company? He was unlikely to spend much time dancing attendance on her. Such a flirt as Lord Stamford would undoubtedly find a woman more to his taste to occupy him.
She had no choice. She only prayed his offer was still open.
Michael entered Lady Burkham’s crowded ball room at half past midnight. Almost immediately, Lady Burkham glided forward, and caught his arm. ‘Why, Lord Stamford! We had given up all hope that you ever planned to show! I fear there has been more than one lady suffering from pangs of disappointment.’
‘I doubt the affliction is permanent.’
Her smile faded a little at his cool tone. ‘No, now that you are here. We are about to go down to supper. I hope you will partake of it.’
‘Thank you. Your suppers are always superior.’
She smiled again and, after a few more remarks, departed. He watched the guests drift towards the doors, talking and laughing. The boredom he felt at these occasions assailed him. He regretted his impulse to come.
Except he’d felt equally bored at White’s.
He finally admitted to himself he came in hopes of seeing Lady Jeffreys. Why, he had no idea. Until this morning, he had no doubt she would agree to his plan. But he had gravely miscalculated the depth of her dislike for him. Her words had stunned and then angered him. He tried to tell himself it was only because her refusal foiled his plans. He cared little what anyone thought or said of him. Including Lady Jeffreys. But a shaft of hurt he hadn’t felt since his youth had shot through him, piercing his careful armour of indifference.
This was ridiculous. He decided he would make his excuses to his hostess and leave. Then he saw her.
She was going down to supper with Lady Carlyn. Dressed in a dark blue gown that emphasised the gentle curve of her breasts, she looked delicately lovely.
He would stay after all.
He finally caught up to her at the supper laid out in buffet style. He waited until she finished putting a lobster patty on her plate before speaking.
‘Lady Jeffreys.’
She whirled around and looked up at him as if he’d sprung out of the wall. ‘What are you doing here?’
He removed the plate from her hand since the food appeared to be in danger of sliding to the table. ‘I was invited.’
‘I only meant I had not yet seen you. Did…did you get my note?’
‘Note? No, although I have hardly been home. Does this mean you wished to see me?’
‘Yes.’ Her face turned a delicate pink.
‘Perhaps you could continue your conversation elsewhere?’ Michael turned to find a stout gentlemen glaring at them.
Rosalyn quickly moved forward, Michael behind her. ‘Do you wish some strawberries? They look quite good.’
She looked completely confused. ‘Yes, I think so. This is for my grandmother.’
He put some strawberries on the plate. ‘You are not eating?’
‘I am not hungry.’
‘So you hoped to see me? What has caused you to change your mind?’ he asked softly.
She looked alarmed. ‘Please, not here.’
‘No.’ He looked down the plate, now containing enough food to feed several elderly ladies. ‘Is this enough for your grandmother?’
She eyed the plate doubtfully. ‘I hope so.’
‘Where is Lady Carlyn?’
He followed Rosalyn. Lady Carlyn sat at one of the long tables, between two older ladies. She beamed when she saw them. ‘Lord Stamford! How kind of you to fetch my plate! And you have found my granddaughter, I see. Perhaps you will join us.’
Lady Carlyn’s voice carried. Rosalyn’s face coloured as several heads craned their way.
‘Actually, I had hoped to have a word with your granddaughter in private.’ He smiled at Lady Carlyn.
‘Why…why, I suppose so. Yes, but I trust you will be on your best behaviour!’
‘Of course.’ He took Rosalyn’s arm, leading her from the room before Lady Carlyn could make any more pronouncements to the rest of the guests.
He led her to Lord Burkham’s study. He closed the door and leaned against it, watching her face.
‘What did your note say?’
‘I wished to accept your offer,’ she replied so softly he almost didn’t hear her. She twisted her hands. Her face had all the appearance of one offering to take another’s place on the gallows.
‘So you decided a few months of misery in my company was worth the price of your brother’s estate?’
Guilt washed across her delicate face. ‘I didn’t exactly mean that. I am sorry I said…’
He held up his hand. ‘There is no need to apologise. Your sentiments towards me are quite clear. At least you are honest. Very well, my lady, your brother shall have his estate.’
She cast him a helpless, almost fearful look. ‘What do you wish me to do now, my lord? Are we to announce our…our agreement right away?’
His mouth quirked slightly. ‘I see no reason to delay the announcement of our…betrothal. As soon as our families are informed, I will put an announcement in the Morning Post.’
She looked almost horrified. ‘Is that necessary?’
‘It is quite necessary, my dear.’
‘But what will everyone say? It seems so sudden. We hardly know each other.’
He shrugged. ‘What does it matter? I am known for making up my mind quickly. Come, Rosalyn, the sooner this is settled, the sooner your brother will get his estate.’
The frightened look fled. ‘I have not given you permission to use my given name, my lord.’
‘You have my permission to use mine. You sound like my butler, not a woman who has accepted an offer of marriage.’
‘But I have not accepted an offer of marriage. I am merely pretending to be betrothed to you. There is no need to be on such familiar terms when we are alone.’
He raised his brow. ‘Pretending? No, you will be betrothed to me. You will be my fiancée and you will address me by my given name, Rosalyn.’
Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘You will not dictate to me. I will call you whatever I please, my
