Page 17 of A Rogue to Reform

He’d expected her to look beautiful, and yet, he was unable to keep from gawking.

Emerging in a gown with a short-sleeved blue bodice and cream-colored skirts, she was stunning. Her dark tresses were swept up into a simple but flattering style that framed her face perfectly. She wore a small tiara, or something of the sort, that was tucked into her hair so that it was just visible. It was so like her to add certain touches that were not overtly obvious and yet delightful.

She wore gloves that went to her elbows, and as she walked out, Felicity handed her brother a shawl that he placed over her shoulders. When she smiled at Grant, deep dimples formed in her cheeks, and without expecting it, Evan smiled as well.

Clearing his throat, he leaned back into the seat when she looked toward the carriage. He had to maintain an aloof demeanor. It would not do to show any interest in his closest friend’s sister.

Not only was she forbidden fruit for a rogue like him, but anyone who dared court Felicity would do so acknowledging it would lead to marriage.

Her father had been right to be angry that he’d walked her home. Any assignation with him could ruin any chances of a good match for the beauty.

When she entered the carriage, her gaze met his and she giggled. “Aren’t you a picture?” she exclaimed.

“Of what?” Evan didn’t mean to, but his voice held an irritated tone.

“Of handsomeness,” she replied, leaning forward and giving him a pointed look. “The color of your jacket, it suits you.”

He looked to Grant who, used to their repartee, ignored them, and was currently peering out toward the house, a sullen expression marring his face.

“Umm,” Evan stumbled on how to return the compliment. “You look festive.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and lifted a gloved hand to pat her hair. “Mother insisted on the tiara. A bit much.”

“Are your parents attending?” Evan asked, which made Grant finally look at his sister.

“No. They were, but Mother has a headache.” She lifted a slim shoulder, immediately drawing his attention to the expanse of skin exposed by the cut of the bodice. The front of her gown was not as low cut as most women wore, which made Felicity even more alluring.

And yet, the hint of the top of her breasts that lifted and lowered with each breath affected him more than a fully unclad woman’s body.

It took monumental effort to drag his gaze away and look out to the passing scenery.

“How far is this blasted place?” he mumbled.

Felicity rolled her eyes. “This is a delightful ride. Whatever is wrong with you?” She looked to him and then to Grant. “Both of you act as if headed for the gallows. If your plan is to gain the attention of women, it will not work if you walk in with those glum expressions.”

“We do not have any plan,” Grant said, finally smiling. “Your meddlesome nature makes you come up with plots that do not exist.”

“Hmm,” she said, sliding a look to Evan. “I have a plan. To enjoy the evening to its fullest, and since Mother is not here, she has requested that you remain by my side at all times.” She gave her brother a triumphant look. “Promise.”

Grant let out a breath. “I will be beside you the entire time. I must keep unsuitables away.”

When she giggled, it was a melodious sound. “Goodness, Grant, I cannot wait to see who you consider suitable. Do not forget that I do wish to dance.”

“You can dance with Evan.”

Her gaze slowly lifted to meet Evan’s, and he let out an involuntary breath and swallowed.

“Perhaps one dance; let us not forget, brother, that Mister Macleod is here for the sole purpose of gaining Sorcha Robertson’s attention.”

Grant nodded and looked at him. “He can do both. Evan has many talents.”

“What of you, brother?” Felicity asked, studying Grant’s face. “Who are you hoping to get to know better?”

Grant motioned out the window. “We arrive.”

They waited in the queue of carriages for their turn. Evan studied Felicity, whose eyes twinkled with excitement.

“You love these social events.” It was a statement, not so much a question.