Dear Diary,
I cannot help it. Sometimes, Philip reminds me
of something slimy. Maybe a nasty, green toad.
But then why doesn't a kiss turn him into a prince?
"Chettisham," the marquess said tonelessly, finally letting go of her even as he took a step closer.
"Pensington," Philip replied in the same even tone.
Couples continued dancing around them, ignoring the silent battle between the two men. The cheerful music filling the room seemed ill-matched to their set faces and assessing eyes.
Looking back and forth between them, a ball knotted inside her. "Do you know each other?"
"We've met." Philip took her arm possessively. "Now, dance with me."
The marquess looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. She was torn between wanting him to and not wishing him to make a scene. Then he gave a curt bow and left. Philip took her hand to lead her through the steps of the quadrille. No longer enjoying the dance, she wished she could have left the dance floor too, but that would have been terribly rude. So she stayed.
"I did not know you had arrived in London," Philip said, his light-blue eyes cold as ice. "I thought you were arriving in a fortnight."
"That was the original plan," she admitted. "I arrived sooner. Only yesterday."
"You should have informed me."
Her answer had displeased him. She could see it by the tightening around his lips. He was quite a handsome man, really—when he wasn't angry—tall and slim with light brown hair. Her cousin, Joan, always pointed out that he had an attractive face with his clean lines and straight nose. Objectively, she could agree. He was not displeasing to look at, but something about him always made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.
Sometimes, she couldn't help comparing him to something wet and slimy. He might be considered a catch with both excellent looks and a future title, but she had never felt attracted to him. Not at all like how her body hummed to life every time the marquess was near. Which was disconcerting when one considered she barely knew the man.
"I didn't realise you would be here," she said quietly, hoping to keep their discussion away from the ears of the other dancers.
"That is hardly the point. In the future, I should like to be informed of any change of plans where you are involved."
She nodded, used to not arguing. It wasn't as if anyone ever listened to her. The music finished, and Philip led her off the dance floor.
"Would you like some punch?" he asked with a pleasant smile. His mood had turned for the better now that she was agreeable to him. Like her family, he preferred her to do as he said and stay silent when not asked for her opinion. No wonder the lot of them got on so well.
"Yes, please."
"Wait right here." He disappeared towards the refreshment table, leaving her standing alone by the edge of the dance floor. She looked after him as he made his way through the crowd. Had he left her alone on purpose? Being in a busy room filled with people made her uneasy, and she would have much preferred if he'd brought her back to her brother. Instead, she now stood alone in a mass of strangers.
From across the ballroom, Nathaniel watched Angel dancing with Chettisham again. A sight that bothered him more than he cared to admit. Gowthorpe stood next to him, sipping on a glass of fruit punch as he eyed the ladies present.
"What is Chettisham's relationship with your family?" Nathaniel asked. "He appeared quite familiar with your sister."
"Chettisham?" Gowthorpe sounded a little distracted, tearing his eyes from the form of a beautiful lady a few feet away to look over at his sister. "Oh. He's Angel's intended."
Intended? Nathaniel frowned. The information didn't sit well with him. From the look on Angel's face when the other man had cut in, he never would have guessed it was the man she was meant to marry. She'd looked about ready to bolt and run in the other direction. "They're betrothed?"
Gowthorpe took another sip of his punch. "No, not yet. It's more of an informal understanding between our families. Nothing has been announced."
"Why him?" The thought of Angel with Chettisham... It simply felt wrong. He didn't know the man particularly well, they had attended Eton and Oxford at the same time, but had never hung out with the same crowds. The few times he had interacted with him, he had never quite taken to the other man.
"Our parents and his were great friends and I've been told they always wanted a union between our families." Gowthorpe shrugged. "So when our parents passed... The understanding was that Angel and Chettisham would eventually marry to honour that wish. My aunt wanted her to marry him without attending the season, but I put my foot down there. She deserves a season in London before settling down. It also affords them a chance to get to know each other, as they have only met a few times."
Nathaniel nodded, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't for him to get in between a planned engagement, so he would keep his mouth shut. He had no business getting involved in what Gowthorpe's sister did. Who she married. Especially when he was not on the lookout for a wife himself. Finding her in the crowd, he discovered she was on her own at the very edge of the room. She was beautiful in a pale-rose-coloured gown, and he couldn't help but wonder why no other man had noticed yet and she was not inundated with suitors. Gowthorpe's thoughts seemed to have drifted in the same direction.
"I expected to have to fend suitors off, but it seems I will be spared the trouble since Angel is making herself invisible," he said, sounding amused by his sister's obvious attempts at not drawing attention to herself. The moment Chettisham had left her side, she had moved into a corner of the room and was nearly concealed behind other guests. Gowthorpe chuckled, nodding towards the other side of the room. "You, on the other hand, are not so lucky."
Looking in the direction indicated, Nathaniel caught sight of his sister. A group of young fops surrounded Jessica, all looking at her as if she was a sugarcoated treat and they had not eaten for days.
"I should have agreed when she tried begging off the season," he muttered.
His friend laughed. "Come now. It's not that bad. Your sister is a nice-looking lady and has a sizeable dowry to boot. You knew this would happen."
"I did." He sighed. "But that does not mean I cannot wish it wasn't so. How will I ever find one that I think deserves her?"
"You won't," Gowthorpe said. "Whoever she chooses, you will simply have to accept it and move on."
"Sounds awful."
"It's the plight of us brothers." Gowthorpe grinned. "Now, if you will excuse me, I see a lady who requires a dance partner."
As his friend disappeared, Nathaniel stayed where he was so he could keep an eye on his sister and her suitors, but he could not keep his eyes from straying until he found Angel in the crowded room. Each time he saw her, he realised what he was doing and forced his gaze back to Jessica. But every time, they returned.
Finally, he gave up and walked across the room to where the young debutante appeared to be hiding behind a potted tree while sipping some punch. Apparently, Chettisham had seen fit to give her something to drink but didn't bother to stick around. She looked up as he came to stand beside her.
"Are you enjoying your evening so far, Miss Grafton?" he asked politely.
"Very much, thank you," she answered, just as politely.
"Is that why you're hiding behind a tree?"
She choked on the punch she'd just been about to swallow and coughed. "I beg your pardon?" she sputtered.
Her eyes were watery from the coughing, making them appear greener than before. Framed with thick, dark lashes, they were one of her most attractive features. Her pink lips were slightly parted as if she could not quite believe what he'd just said. The sudden urge to kiss those lips shocked him.
"Lord Pensington?"
Her soft query forced him to pull himself together. "It seemed to me as if you were hiding. Lurking behind plants usually is not an activity of those who enjoy a ball."
A faint blush crept up her cheeks, making her look even more adorable. "I don't know what you're speaking of," she mumbled, facing the ballroom and refusing to look at him.
"It was not my meaning to embarrass you. Please accept my sincere apologies."
She gave him a quick look. "Are you making sport of me, Lord Pensington?"
"I would never dream of it," he said with a look of mock horror that made her laugh and finally relax.
"I fear I truly am hiding," she admitted with a sigh. "I'm terribly shy and all these people make me nervous."
"Where is your Chettisham?" he asked as he looked out over the crowd, trying to locate him.
"He's not my Chettisham," she muttered, only to add, "At least not yet."
"Well, if he hopes to win your hand in marriage, he should be by your side."
That made her laugh again, only it had a hollow quality to it this time. "There is no winning involved, I'm afraid. It is what it is. I am to be his wife, and that's that."
He knew he shouldn't ask. It was none of his business, but he couldn't help himself. "Do you wish to be his wife?"
She fell silent, her eyes following the dancing couples in the middle of the room. Following her line of sight, Nathaniel found Chettisham dancing with a beautiful, buxom lady. Was she jealous? He didn't think so.
"That is an awfully personal question, Lord Pensington," she mumbled. "Do you truly think we are acquainted enough to speak of such private matters?"
"I did sleep in your bed," he said with a straight face.
Gasping, she spun towards him, her cheeks red. "That is an awful thing to say to a young lady, my lord!"
"It was merely an observation." He tried to look innocent but had a suspicion he was failing miserably.
"You, my lord, are a rogue." The words were admonishing, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Considering that you have seen me in a state of undress that few can claim to, I believe you may call me Nathaniel."
She blushed again while nodding. "We really shouldn't, but you are a dear friend to my brother. You may call me Angel. But I thought you told me we should never mention that incident again."
"So I did," he agreed. "But that was before I realised I could not stop thinking about it."
Silence stretched out between them. She looked as shocked as he felt by the admission. That was not something he had planned to admit to. Even if it was true. He wished it wasn't. He certainly shouldn't be thinking about his friend's sister in that way. But that didn't make it any less true. Their eyes locked, and he found he could not break the contact. She, too, was unable—or unwilling—to and they continued to stare at each other. He leaned a little closer.
"I should have—"
"There you are!"
Angel abruptly turned around and took a quick step away from him. Jessica was weaving her way through the guests, waving at them. It may have been the first time in his life he was unhappy to see his sister.
"I have been looking all over for you," Jessica said as she reached them. "You left me on my own with those popinjays! Where have you been, Angel?"
"Hiding behind a potted plant," Nathaniel replied dryly.
Used to his sense of humour, Jessica ignored him and took her new friend's arm. "Please, walk with me. I need you to keep me company, so the bloody men will stop hounding me. Why won't they realise I'm dreadfully boring and they'd be better off chasing some other young lady with a dowry?"
"Jessica!" He stared at his younger sister. When had she begun cursing?
She rewarded him with a cheeky smile and a roll of her eyes. "Brother, you should be lucky that is the only word I used. What are you going to do? Punish me?"
"Just don't do it in front of others," he muttered, knowing when to admit defeat. It was clear the two women didn't need him, so he sketched a bow before going in search of Gowthorpe.
~~~~~~