Page 44 of A Relentless Rake

He glanced across the terrace at the gathered guests and quietly admitted, “I hope for that, too.”Someday.

But it wasn’t going to come from sipping tea among society matrons.

Truly, he had no idea why Elizabeth had issued the invitation to this afternoon’s garden party in the first place, knowing how he felt about matrons’ teas and knowing howshefelt about them herself. Yet she’d insisted, so he’d come. He’d always done everything he could to protect Beth and make her happy. Now that his little sister was on the verge of becoming another man’s responsibility, he found himself doting on her even more.

But a society tea?Good Lord. This was unusual even for Beth, and testimony to how much he loved her. Not only because being here subjected him to the company of two dozen matrons, all of whom would invariably have a female relative in need of a husband, but also because he regretted not being out on the hunt for any trace of the men Henry Everett had been meeting with. So far, tracking them had come to nothing. Despite watching his every move, Everett had led them nowhere, and Reed hadn’t been able to identify the man who’d paid the boy to deliver the last message. As for Alec’s part in the mission, Olivia had provided only frustration.

Was this mission nothing more than a wild goose chase? Had Clayton gotten the evidence wrong, and that charred piece of building plans had nothing to do with the bombing?

No. He couldn’t start down that forking path. If Clayton was wrong, then they had no way of stopping another attempt on the prime minister’s life, and next time Scepter would succeed. He had to forget about whatever information he’d hoped Olivia Everett would provide and focus on finding another way forward.

“Lady Rowland!” Isabel waved her fingers at Sydney Rowland as the baroness approached. “So nice of you to attend. Of course, you know my son?”

“Lady Rowland and I have long been acquaintances.” Alec bowed more formally than necessary in a pitiful attempt to ward off what he knew was another effort at matchmaking by his mother. “In fact, her late husband and I worked together in Parliament.”

“Rowland spoke fondly of you,” Lady Rowland assured him, but her voice had gone noticeably cold at the mention of her late husband. The baron had been dead nearly two years. Was she still grieving?

“Don’t believe a word.” Alec lowered his voice with mock secrecy and teased her. “I bribed him for every compliment.”

Just as he’d hoped, she relaxed and returned his smile.

Well, he had to give his mother credit. Sydney Rowland would have made a good match for an earl. A wealthy heiress in her own right, she was pretty and elegant, cultured and well-schooled, although unpopular among theton, who regarded her as nothing more than an upstart cit. She’d make a good society wife, perhaps even more so to a man who wanted a true partner in marriage.

But Alec would not be that man.

Based on the complete lack of interest she showed in him as anything but a friend, she agreed.Thank heavens.

His mother conveniently released his arm. “Why don’t you escort Lady Rowland to one of the tables and join her for the tea? The footmen are bringing out the services now.”

“My apologies, Countess,” Lady Rowland interjected. “But I’ve already promised Mrs. Jennings that I’d join her and her friends.” She looked at Alec, and private amusement danced in her eyes. She knew as well as he did exactly what his mother was attempting. “Perhaps another time.”

Relief swelled through him. “I look forward to it.”

The baroness excused herself. His mother went with her, ostensibly to help her find her place but clearly so she could plant more seeds of interest about Alec in the woman’s ear.

Alec frowned. The last thing he needed was a matchmaker.

“You’re here!” Elizabeth swept up from behind and latched on to his arm. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”

“Perhaps I should have,” he muttered. “Why is this tea so important?”

She ignored the commanding tone in his voice just as she’d done her entire life and affectionately squeezed his arm. He could frighten grown men with a single look, but irritatingly, this little imp feared nothing about him. “Without you here, dear brother, it would have been an utter bore among all these old matrons and widows.”

“Then you should have invited Mr. Mullins.”

“I did, but Arthur wanted to attend the auctions at Tattersall’s.” Her brow furrowed quizzically. “Do you think it says something about his feelings for me that he’d rather spend the day dodging horse leavings than attend Mama’s garden party?”

“I think it says more about his intelligence,” he answered. “He’s smart enough to dodge society matrons and their leavings.”

Her mouth and eyes grew wide at that wholly improper statement before slamming shut and narrowing. She swatted his shoulder. “Just becauseyouthink afternoon teas are—” A smile burst across her face as she glanced toward the open terrace doors. “She’s arrived. How wonderful!”

“Who?” He followed her gaze. And froze.

Olivia.

She’d dressed perfectly for a garden party, reminding him of a bouquet of spring flowers. Her soft blue dress and matching pelisse, both the color of bluebells, brought out the pink in her cheeks and lips. A pink and white flower-strewn bonnet framed her oval face, but Alec knew exactly what her hair would look like in the sunlight if she removed the hat—warm gold, like the sunshine itself.

She swept in like a breath of fresh air, only to pause just inside the terrace doors to glance uncertainly around the garden before her. Her gaze landed on his mother and Aunt Agnes as they stood at the edge of the terrace, and she stilled. For a moment, Alec thought she might just flee.