Page 35 of Oddity of the Ton
“May I sit?”
Shame threatened to engulf her. How could she leave him standing? No wonder Mother had felt the need to tell her to behave.
“O-of course,” she replied. “Shall I ring the bell for tea?”
“There’s something I wish to say first, Miss Howard.”
He took a seat and gestured to the space beside him. She sat, and the breath caught in her throat at his closeness. Their legs touched, and she could feel his body heat through the fabric of her gown. Then he reached for her hand and took it. A fizz of need ignited in her center, and she curled her fingers around his.
“I must thank you, Miss Howard,” he said.
She glanced up. “For what?”
“For being so obliging last night.”
Obliging? Hardly the words of a man in love.
“I was in a bit of a fix, you see,” he continued. “My mother can be relentless, and I saw no other way to silence her. Of course, I had no wish to inconvenience you, but I trust you’ll understand my motives.”
“Inconvenience me?” Eleanor shook her head. “I-I don’t understand—why would an offer of marriage be an inconvenience?”
“Oh, heavens!” He let out a laugh and withdrew his hand. “Devil’s toes! Surely you didn’t believe my proposal to begenuine?”
Icy fingers curled around her insides, and she winced as she looked into his eyes. Rather than the love she’d hoped for, she saw mirth and disdain.
“Your Grace, I—” She broke off, her throat tightening.
“I have no intention of marrying,” he said.
“Then why…”
“Why did I ask you? I chose the woman everyone least expected me to approach. Had I asked any other young woman in the room, she’d have believed me to be serious in my offer.”
His earlier laughter filled her mind until her head pulsed with it. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to fight the humiliation. But it threatened to overwhelm her.
He was right—they were all right.
“You chose for your own amusement—toridiculeme?”
Hot tears stung her eyes, and she looked away, unwilling to reveal her pain.
A warm hand took hers, only this time his touch was gentle.
He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. Then a hand touched her cheek, gently coaxing her to turn her head toward him. She lifted her gaze to see him looking directly at her, the cold blue of his eyes having softened to the color of a warm ocean.
“Forgive me, Miss Howard,” he said. “It wasn’t my intention to lead you to believe I felt anything for you other than…”
He made a random gesture with his free hand, as if searching for the right word.
“Other than nothing?”
“I fear I have no heart,” he said.
“At least, not for me.”
To his credit, he colored. Then he took a stray tendril of her hair and brushed it behind her ear, running his fingertips along the skin of her neck.
“I would never have made such a public offer for you had I thought you so lacking in understanding as to have believed it.”
