Proof by Seduction (Carhart #1)

Ned shut his eyes and envisioned her walking quietly down the gold-papered hall toward the ladies’ retiring room. The blue dining room was only steps beyond the parlor set aside for that purpose, and from the reports of the servants, it was the perfect venue for this little tableau.

There was only one exit, and nowhere to hide. A couple alone in the room would be seen the instant the door opened.

A hint of desperate nausea turned Ned’s stomach. He was openly sweating now, and his nerves fluttered. One word to Laura, and he could still avert the coming storm. A few phrases of his own to Lady Kathleen—if he hurried, he could catch her still—and the scene would not play out as he’d envisioned. He’d asked her to meet him there, and despite the impropriety of it all, she was going. It had to be fate.

Everything Ned hated about his own life—his powerlessness, the respect he never seemed to command—he was doing to her. He had wanted to control his own life; now he was wresting control from her, trapping her into matrimony. Even in the heated press of bodies in the open room, covered as he was by layers of linen, wool, and waistcoat, Ned shivered.

A last, desperate chivalrous corner of his mind shouted it was not too late. But Ned thought of Madame Esmerelda’s face, so obviously distraught. He thought of the depths to which he could yet fall. And he steeled himself to let events go forward as planned.

As they would, if only Blakely were present. Lady Kathleen undoubtedly thought—as the note Ned sent her implied—she would be meeting Ned to discuss the reasons why she slipped from the crowds and wandered in servants’ quarters. He didn’t want to think what it meant, that she’d left to meet him under such improper circumstances.

Because Ned wouldn’t meet her. Instead, Blakely would arrive prepared to gloat over Ned’s claimed surrender. A conversation between the two of them would ensue. Fate and the spirits might bring bodies together where recalcitrant minds had previously resisted. And then shortly after Blakely and Lady Kathleen closeted themselves alone, Laura would lead that tight knot of women to their discovery. Scandal, the blow to Lady Kathleen’s reputation and Blakely’s own sense of responsibility would take care of the remainder.

And Ned had no doubt—no real doubt, that is, as he didn’t count that roiling pit of denial in his stomach—that what started as responsibility would grow into real affection. With Madame Esmerelda’s imprimatur, it could do little else. The only reason Ned saw not to order the wedding punch directly was that Blakely had not yet appeared that evening.

Unless his cousin hadn’t been announced, and had instead proceeded directly to the dining room.

Horrifying thought. Lady Kathleen could be meeting his cousin now. Asking, perhaps what he was doing there. Blakely was no fool; if he figured out what Ned had done, he would leave before their fates were sealed. If Blakely was there, Laura needed to make her appearance now.

Ned glanced across the room. Laura hadn’t moved.

Suppose on the other hand Blakely had been delayed. Then Lady Kathleen would be cooling her heels in the blue dining room. Lady Bettony could hardly burst in on a solitary girl—or at least, if she did, there would be no gossip in it.

A lady’s reputation was supposed to be a fragile thing. Why, then, did it take so much effort for Ned to crack this one? Cold sweat trickled from his armpits.

Madame Esmerelda had never said Ned’s task would be easy. She’d told him to rely on himself. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he needed to do right now. Taking a deep breath, Ned set off toward the dining room.

He’d intended to listen at the door and ascertain if both parties were inside. But Lady Kathleen stood just outside the room, angrily tapping her foot. One hand rested on her hip. The other beat an impatient tattoo against her skirts. The rhythm made that net of brilliants send coruscating flashes of light all about her, as if she were Zeus, sending out little sparks of lightning. When she saw him, she pressed her lips together.

“And you’ve just chosen to appear, then?” A hint of anger slipped in her voice and transformed the tinkling melody into something harsher. “I shouldn’t have come. I should have ignored your letter. I should have insisted on obtaining the proper introduction, because this is most improper. I didn’t imagine you would make me wait. If you’re trying to talk to me alone, you’re doing an awful job of it.”

She cast a look at him, as if waiting for an apology.

“You haven’t seen anyone else?”

Instead of answering, she glanced down the hall and turned on her heel, disappearing into the room behind her.

Ned perforce followed.