Page 18 of To Woo and to Wed
She took a sip of lemonade and gave him her best attempt at a pleased smile, but he did not appear to be fooled. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then his gaze flicked somewhere over her shoulder and caught there. “Your sister’s coming.”
“Which one?”
“Alexandra.”
Indeed, Sophie belatedly registered that the waltz had ended, and the orchestra had struck up a quadrille instead. She took a casual sip of her lemonade, not turning to watch Alexandra approach.
“Laugh as if I’ve just said something amusing,” she murmured to West.
“Do you really think that your sister will be convinced by the sight of me cackling like a lunatic?”
Sophie let out an annoyed sigh, though he had a point—he was not, perhaps, the world’s most jovial man. So instead, she let out a high-pitched giggle.
West gave her an exceedingly skeptical look. “If your aim is to convince your sister that we have rekindled a long-lost love, it would perhaps be best if I were not grimacing in acute horror whilst she approaches.”
“You were unwilling to laugh, so I had to! The least you could do is appear mildly amused, as if we have shared some secret joke. I understand that anything beyond moderate amusement would be more feeling than the famed Marquess of Weston is capable of expressing, but I thought you might be able to stretch your muscles at least this far.”
West shot her a look. “If you think the noise you just uttered is what one emits when one is amused, then I shall make a mental note never to make you laugh again in your life.”
“I don’t think there’s much risk of that,” Sophie muttered; that eyebrow went up again, in irritation this time. Before he could reply, Alexandra’s voice broke into their discussion.
“Sophie! And West! How… unexpected!”
Sophie turned to see Alexandra, on Blackford’s arm, surveying herself and West with naked interest that she wasn’t even attempting to disguise.
“Mrs. Brown-Montague.” West stepped forward to bow over Alexandra’s hand and shake hands with Blackford, any sign of his irritation of only moments before already erased.
“How nice to see the two of you together,” Alexandra said, looking eagerly back and forth between them.
“We were just reminiscing about…” Sophie faltered.
“Cornwall,” West reminded her. “We both recently attended a house party in Cornwall hosted by Lord Penvale.”
“Yes,” Alexandra said, with an undue amount of emphasis. “Howinterestingthat you were both in attendance.”
“As we are both friends of Penvale’s, I do not actually believe it is so terribly interesting.” Sophie smiled sweetly at her sister. “It seems more in the line of how invitations generally work.”
“And friendships,” West added.
“I believe my brother and sister-in-law were there as well,” Blackford said after a momentary pause; he was giving Alexandra a mildly confused look, but seemed to think that someone should attempt to salvage this conversation.
“Oh, thenewlyweds,” Alexandra said dramatically.
“Well,” Blackford said reasonably, “it has actually been the better part of nine months since they wed—”
“And now she is expecting a baby! How delightful!” Alexandrasaid, clasping her hands together more rapturously than the imminent arrival of a single baby perhaps merited.
“Babies are, indeed, delightful,” Sophie agreed, amused, before deciding that the best strategy at this juncture would be to extricate herself from this exceedingly bizarre conversation, which had by now more or less served its purpose. “It has been so lovely running into both of you—”
“But I fear my friends are awaiting our return,” West added smoothly, inclining his head in the direction of his brother and sister-in-law, who—from what Sophie could tell from a distance—had been joined by some of their other friends, all of whom were doing a dreadful job of pretending not to be watching West and Sophie from across the room.
“Of course, of course,” Alexandra said brightly. “And I’m sure you two have much to… discuss… between yourselves?” Sophie suspected she would be the recipient of a breakfast visit the following morning.
“Indeed,” Sophie agreed, and she and West turned to continue their progress around the room.
“I believe I am sweating,” West observed after a moment. “Does your sister normally have that effect on men?”
“You’d have to ask Blackford. I’m not certain I’m cut out for this either—I feel like a horse who’s just raced at Ascot.”
