Page 50 of To Catch a Viscount

Something about that memory made his disgust with her cut all the more.

“You’re attempting to get me to change my mind. You’re hoping that I’ll free you of your responsibility.”

“I’m not attempting to get you to change your mind. I’mhopingyou do,” he said, throwing a single finger up as if he’d made some grand, very different point.

“Well, you don’t have to do anything.” She firmed her jaw. “I will not force you to be my companion.”

“Your chaperone.”

She drew back, stung by that correction.Companionsuggested partner.Chaperonemade her out to be some child who didn’t know her mind and with whom he was forced to partner. “I can ask—”

“Rothesby?” he snapped, his voice cold and curt and angry. “I’ve already told you, you aren’t enlisting Rothesby’s help, or the help of any other scoundrel who made your bloody list, Marcia Gray, so let it rest. Now.” With that, Andrew whipped his focus towards the window, yanking the curtain back and staring out.

She drew back. A little shiver scraped her spine at the fury emanating from his eyes, and for a moment, she believed his anger was because she’d threatened to go off with another. As soon as the ridiculous thought slid in, she pushed it back. What would Andrew care if she were with any other man?

He wouldn’t.

Once more, his concern stemmed from the fact that his brother-in-law, a terrifying fellow to most, was best of friends with Marcia’s father. Embroiling Andrew as she had in her plans had only put him in a potential match with Lord Rutland, if he were to find out.

They didn’t speak for the remainder of the carriage ride, and miserable at the loss of Andrew’s usual joviality and teasing, she counted in her head the passing seconds all the way to 3,469. And all the joy and excitement she’d felt this night vanished as she was left once more with that great big gaping hole of misery in her breast. She felt as lost now as she had for the better part of four days, at sea and hurting inside, all the way to her soul.

At last, they arrived. The carriage rolled to a gradual halt and then stopped altogether.

The driver made no move to get down, and Andrew didn’t reach for the door as he had the previous time she’d been in the carriage with him.

Instead, they both sat there in silence. Neither moving.

Because he is still hoping you’ll relent. Because he wants so very badly to be free of you and your company.

A strong hand covered her own, and she glanced down at the fingers on hers. His long, slightly tanned digits were testimony of a man who’d shucked his gloves in favor of the sun upon his skin. Her heart quickened.

“I do know you,” he said. The anger in his voice was belied once more by the gentleness of his touch, a confusing juxtaposition that her mind couldn’t make heads or tails of. “I’ve known you since you were a small girl playing hide-and-seek amongst your parents’ guests at their balls and country parties.”

He’d always joined in. A wistful smile pulled at her lips at the memory. He squeezed her fingers slightly, calling her attention back from those musings and bringing her gaze over to his furious one.

“So for you to suggest I don’t really know you is disingenuous and wrong, Marcia,” he said, handing over a mask.

As she accepted the pretty scrap, it occurred to Marcia, hitting her with all the force of a fast-moving carriage, that she’d offended him when she’d said he didn’t really know her. “I’ve upset you.”

“Your opinion that I don’t know you annoyed me, yes,” he said with a blunt honesty any other member of the peerage would have shied away from. Any other gentleman would have lied, because that would be more polite than arguing with a lady.

She moved her eyes over his familiar face, the angular planes of his cheeks, the firm square jaw harder than she remembered it ever being, the bold slash of his aquiline nose. His was… a beautiful face, slightly harsher and intriguing. How had she failed to note those angles?

“Now, if we’re doing this, let’s get on with it,” he said, yanking his fingers back.

But still he waited, allowing her to decide if and when she was going into… wherever they were. He’d put the choice in her hands, and it was one of the reasons she so dearly loved him as her friend.

Suddenly, the courage that had set her on this course flagged. The idea of entering the world of the demimonde was now real in ways it hadn’t been before this day, or even during the course of their ride through London. But the moment she stepped out of Andrew’s carriage, she’d enter a wholly foreign world, and nervousness turned her belly over.

She felt his intent stare and knew that he knew her well enough to have gathered the reason for her indecision.

“I am ready,” she said quietly.

He nudged his chin her way, and she looked down at the mask he’d given her.

Of course.

Marcia lifted the thing. It was a simple piece adorned with several glittering gemstones that sparkled in the light. He could have gotten her any mask, but he’d brought her this lovely piece.

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