Page 7 of Bound By her Earl

This time, it was Benedict’s turn to laugh. “I saidsuitable, Ockley. Harridans who accost people on the dance floor are not anyone’s definition of suitable.”

Evan mumbled something under his breath that might have included the phrase “keep you in line.” Benedict, the picture of maturity, pretended not to hear this.

“Fine,” Evan went on. “We’ll find you a lady more to your liking, then.”

“Christ, no, not that either,” Benedict said, earning himself a look of censure from a passing matron for his blasphemy.

Evan’s look was similarly startled though for a different reason.

“You’ve lost me with that one, I’m afraid, Moore,” he said. “I thought you were looking for a wife.”

“I am,” Benedict said, feeling as though he were really showing more patience than Evan strictly warranted at this moment. “But I am not looking for somelove match—” He practically spat the words. “—like seems to be all the rage these days. I don’t need to give some woman the power to control my happiness, not like?—”

He cut himself off. The reason wasn’t important, anyway. What mattered was the outcome.

“I just need a reasonable young lady to make a suitable Society wife,” he said, his tone calmer. “One who will give me an heir and accompany me to the odd event. Then she can spend the rest of her time as she wishes. Needlepoint. Charity. I don’t know—whatever it is that women like.”

Evan had the oddest look on his face, but his voice was even as he said, “So you’re looking for someone who makes you feel entirely indifferent, then?”

Benedict nodded, pleased. Finally, his friend was starting to understand.

“Precisely. And I don’t see why such a thing should be difficult; it’s the way aristocrats have been marrying for hundreds of years. Why change something that works?”

The words felt slightly flat in Benedict’s mouth, but he stopped that thought before it could go any further. Evan, likewise, seemed uninterested in a response.

“Right,” he said. He held Benedict’s gaze for one more moment before turning to look out over the gathered crowd. “Well, I suppose you’re right that there are quite a few potential brides that fit that description here tonight. Do you see any that make you feel absolutely nothing?”

If this last question was a jibe, Benedict ignored it. Instead, he took the question in good faith, scanning his eyes across the collection of expertly coiffed young women.

His gaze caught upon a pair huddled off to one side of the dance floor, heads pressed together, giggling. It was the one on the left that drew his attention, for she was smiling amiably in a way that suggested simple contentment. Her dark hair was neatly swept back, and her gown was fashionable but not ostentatiously so. Women who adored fashion would likely want to go placesto show off that fashion and might ask their husbands to accompany them. Benedict was, naturally, far too busy for that sort of thing.

Shedidlook a tad bit young, he allowed, but wasn’t that the way of debutantes?

“That one,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the young lady in question. “The young lady over there in the blue.”

Evan followed Benedict’s gesture. When his eyes landed on the right woman, there was another quick flicker ofsomethingin his expression. But it was gone before Evan turned to face his friend again.

“Right on,” he said. “Well, if you’ve noticed her, surely others have as well. You’d best go ask for a dance before her card is full.”

This was sensible. Wise, even.

So why did Benedictstillget the sense that he was being mocked?

Again, he chose to ignore whatever nonsense Evan was trying to impart through implication and innuendo.

“So I shall,” he declared. With a decisive nod, he started striding towards his desired partner.

As he went, he put firmly from his mind any thoughts of mysterious friends and quarrelsome young ladies and tried to convince himself that finally things were going according to plan.

CHAPTER 3

It was surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly? Emily couldn’t even tell anymore; this was the effect the twins had on people’s minds) difficult to secretly remove a frog from a ballroom without letting anyone know what she was doingorcompromising her own reputation.

By the time she’d managed the thing, Amanda and Rose had disappeared.

Again.

Mentally swearing (and lamenting that her dictionary of mental swears was sorely lacking), Emily searched through the crowds for her sisters—again—though this time she did manage to watch where she was going.

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