Page 79 of Passions of a Wicked Earl
“—and for Beth. Whether Lord Greenwood asks for her hand or not, she will only have this Season. By next she will be married. She should enjoy every ball that comes her way, and this one is the talk of the town.”
“That’s Anne’s way. She is not demure.”
“I want it to be perfectly clear to her that she will not steal you away from me.”
“But I might. She has a rather impressive conservatory. If I get too bored, perhaps I’ll have you meet me there.”
Her stomach knotted. She’d not considered that he might be intimately familiar with the lady’s residence, as intimately familiar as he might be with the lady herself. To distract herself, she tapped him playfully with her fan. “Behave yourself. I’ll not have us become the latest scandal or source for gossip.”
“I find no pleasure in behaving.” He reached for the wrap draped at the end of the bed and settled it over her shoulders. “Let’s get this done, shall we?”
As they stepped into the hallway, Beth released a very unladylike squeal. “I did not think you would ever be ready.”
Claire crossed over to her and slipped a stray strand of hair back into place. “You look lovely, dear heart.”
“Thank you. And thank you for letting me have a new gown.” It was white, edged in a royal blue that brought out the shade of Beth’s eyes. Claire wondered if Lord Greenwood had stated that blue was his favorite color because he’d known what it would do to her eyes.
“I wanted you to have a magical night,” Claire informed her.
“It will be the absolute best of the summer.”
“Until next week’s ball.”
Beth laughed. “Yes, until then. Now, come along. We’re going to miss all the fun.”
As she started down the stairs, Westcliffe offered Claire his arm. “I believe your sister is anticipating the night enough for all of us.”
“She still seems more child than woman.”
“I cannot recall your ever being quite so … childish.”
“I don’t think I ever was.”
The residence was lavish. Claire could think of no other way to describe it.
So many people were attending that almost every room was swarming with guests. The footman directed them to the parlor, where the ladies left their wraps and the gentlemen divested themselves of their hats and capes. Then they were escorted to the drawing room, where refreshments were served before guests were to enter the ballroom.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Beth asked, clearly in awe of her surroundings.
“No,” Claire admitted, wanting to answer quickly before Westcliffe had the opportunity to announce that he had seen it all. Probably many times over. She was already regretting that they’d come. Why had she felt a need to prove that he was now hers in every way? She feared her need to prove it meant it wasn’t true. She wasn’t nearly as secure about his feelings for her as she’d thought. Strange to suddenly realize that she did need him to say the words.
“Would you care for any refreshments?” Westcliffe asked near her ear, and she inhaled his familiar scent, drawing strength from it.
She had believed, still believed with all her heart, that Lady Anne was trying to make a statement, issuing a challenge by hand-delivering the invitation. Claire was determined to make a statement of her own: He is mine. You cannot have him.
“I don’t believe I can eat a thing,” Claire admitted.
“I would like some champagne,” Beth said.
“Will this suffice?” a deep voice asked, and Beth turned in amazement to find Lord Greenwood extending a flute of the golden liquid toward her.
“Lord Greenwood, what a pleasure,” she gushed.
“Lord and Lady Westcliffe. Good evening.”
Pleasantries were made all the way around, then Lord Greenwood said, “Lady Beth, I’ve been watching for you. Knowing how quickly your dance card becomes full, I wanted to be certain I reserved my two dances.”
“Were there any in particular you wanted?”
