Page 74 of The Wallflower Takes All

Gabriel’s hand tightened around the quill.

Ketterham.

What in the devil’s name was he doing here?

“Show him in,” Gabriel said.

A moment later, Lord Ketterham entered.

Gabriel did not like the look of him any better today than he had at Lady Vanover’s ball, which was unreasonable. Last night, Ketterham had danced competently, spoken plainly, and behaved with all the restraint Gabriel ought to admire.

The problem was that Miss Montfort had smiled at him.

“My lord.” Gabriel indicated the chair opposite his desk. “Please.”

Lord Ketterham sat. His attention moved briefly over the papers on the desk, then returned to Gabriel. “I will not take much of your time. I understand you are acting for Lady Montague and Miss Montfort in certain matters.”

Gabriel drew in a slow breath. “I am.”

Why had Ketterham come? The thought sharpened something unpleasant beneath his ribs. Had the baron already made an offer? Had Miss Montfort already accepted it this morning? Perhaps Ketterham had come to discuss the marriage contract Poppy had drafted with such careful foresight.

Gabriel’s hand tightened on the edge of the desk before he made himself release it.

Lord Ketterham removed his gloves and laid them across one knee. “I hope I do not overstep. I have developed an interest in Miss Montfort.”

Gabriel kept his face still. “I see.”

Interest, then. Not an offer. Not an acceptance. Not yet.

Relief moved through him before he could prevent it, sharp enough to be humiliating and entirely too private to display.

“I met her last evening,” Ketterham continued after a pause. “I found her admirable.”

Admirable.

Gabriel disliked the word in another man’s mouth. Admiration sounded too cool for Poppy Montfort. Too pale and bloodless for the woman who laughed through disaster, paid tradesmen with money she needed for herself, and made courage look like courtesy.

“Miss Montfort is admirable,” Gabriel replied.

He heard the stiffness in his own voice and disliked that too.

Lord Ketterham studied him a moment. “I had thought to pay a call upon her today. To drive with her in the park.”

Gabriel said nothing.

The park was not his province. A gentleman’s call, a drive beneath the trees, Miss Montfort’s choice of companion—none of that required a solicitor’s opinion, however violently some uncivil part of him wished to provide one.

A marriage contract would have been different. Settlements, debts, provisions for Lady Montague, protections for Miss Montfort’s future—those belonged to him. Those he could discuss. Those gave him a place to stand.

This gave him nothing but the image of Poppy seated beside Ketterham in an open carriage, her bonnet ribbons stirring in the breeze while another man learned the sound of her laugh. An image he sorely wanted to banish from his thoughts.

“I am not entirely certain what this has to do with me, my lord,” he said, shifting in his seat.

Lord Ketterham leaned forward slightly. “I hoped to understand what entanglements may attend the match, should matters proceed.”

“Entanglements,” Gabriel repeated.

“I do not ask from idle curiosity,” Ketterham assured him.