Page 17 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

Elizabeth set her forehead against the windowpane, grateful for the cool, hard surface against the thoughts battering around hot inside her skull. “That’s what Lord Darington said.” She turned to her family and tried to smile.

“Oh, I think it’s romantic.” Mama clapped her hands. “And at Lady Gentry’s ball, no less. She must be so pleased.”

Elizabeth turned her face back to the window and swallowed a sigh. Lady Gentry was pleased, all right—so very pleased.

“At least she seemed less vexed about you causing her to spill her lemonade,” Mama continued.

Elizabeth rolled her gaze back outside toward the flickering scenery rather than look at her mother and unintentionally encourage an upbraiding.

Not that it quelled Mama’s words. “Really, Elizabeth, you must always check where you’re going when you turn.”

“I did look,” Elizabeth lied.

“You didn’t, I saw you.” Mama sighed. “All I ask is that you just try a little harder to be more mindful of where you go and how you step.”

“And how I eat,” Elizabeth finished.

“Mama,” Kitty said with exasperation. “Leave poor Lizzie alone.”

A smile touched Elizabeth’s lips, grateful for her youngest sister who always acted the part of peacekeeper in the family.

But Mama was not incorrect. So many ridiculous events had lined up to put Elizabeth and Lord Darington in that dark room together, all because of Elizabeth’s clumsiness. If she hadn’t knocked into Lady Gentry, she never would have left the ballroom. If her stocking hadn’t come untied, she wouldn’t have wandered into that dark study to fix it. If she hadn’t tripped on the carpet and knocked over that table, they might not have been found and forced to explain themselves.

No doubt Lord Darington regretted ducking into that dark room for a drink as much as she did for having gone in there to adjust her stocking. Surely had he been completely sober, he would not have gone along with the engagement.

She tucked her legs together under her skirts, hoping to hide the fact that her stocking was missing, thrown helplessly into her reticule when she couldn’t stand the idea of bothering with the dratted thing a second longer.

Her thoughts drifted back to the patio with Lord Darington, when he’d slipped his jacket around her shoulders. She hadn’t known she’d been cold until the heavy garment was draped over her. And she hadn’t known a man could smell so fine until she breathed in the rich notes of some kind of spice that set a warm pulse thrumming low in her belly.

He’d been so charming, so charismatic. And for all her resolve that she would be confident and in control, she’d slipped on a patch of ice.

And he’d caught her. Again.

“And now your Harold can propose, Grace” Mama interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts and reached across the carriage to grasp Grace’s hand.

Elizabeth glanced at her sister, witnessing the beatific smile radiating from her. Grace’s apparent joy was a reminder why Elizabeth had done this. She would do anything for her sister’s happiness.

Even if it meant being entirely miserable herself.

Jasper all but popped out of bed the following morning, knowing Bess was likely already awake and sipping her tea. Presumably reading the gossip rags as she was wont to do.

When he’d requested his carriage to be readied for his departure the previous evening, he’d been informed Bess had already returned to Darington Place. Which meant she was in for a grand surprise this morning.

A glossy curl of ribbon lay next to Jasper’s pillow and a smile caught his lips. The very one that had tied the stocking to Lady Elizabeth’s elegant leg. He’d thought it lost until he’d gone outside one last time after seeing Lady Elizabeth off, a chance to collect his thoughts before facing Bess, not knowing she was already gone. That’s when he’d seen it, the flutter of white among the bare branches of a tree, cradled in the skeleton-like twigs as if being offered to him as a prize.

He curled the silk ribbon around his hand and brought it to his nose, catching the powdery floral fragrance.

Lady Elizabeth’s scent.

He immediately recalled flash of her leg, her shapely calf naked, her skin creamy in the moonlight. She’d drawn the stocking up her leg in a way that made him want to follow the path with his fingertips, caressing the silkiness of her skin, up, up, up to the softness of her inner thighs.

Desire stirred within him, coiling as images filled his mind with what he might do, how he might nuzzle the delicate flesh there, eliciting gasps of pleasure as his tongue teased the precious place where her thighs met.

He pushed aside his longing and wound the ribbon into a neat bundle, tucking it into the pocket of his robe. The time had come to ready for the day so he could inform Bess of the good news.

True, he wasn’t actually getting married. Lady Elizabeth had made that clear the night before. But at least the engagement would appease Bess for the time being.

His grandmother was at the breakfast table as expected, residing in the spot nearest the window overlooking the garden. Though the plants were dormant and stark, she still enjoyed looking out over the land, noting the various birds that settled close enough to decipher.