soon excusing himself to retire upstairs. She had not seen him again.
Of course, she’d risen early and left the house, soperhaps he’d wanted to speak with her but hadn’t been able to locate her before he departed. Then again, if he’d truly wished to seek her out, he could have asked one of the servants and they would have pointed him in her direction.
But why was she dwelling on Lord Eversley anyway? She’d already decided against him as a prospective beau, despite the not so secret hopes her family may have cherished. And even if she hadn’t eliminated him from matrimonial contention, it was too late now to change her mind.
He was gone.
But Lord Northcote was not. Hedonist and self-described libertine though he might be, he was here, apparently ready to do the decent thing and marry her, even if there was little else to recommend him in the eyes of Society.
Her gaze moved to Northcote, a tiny shiver whispering along her spine as she met his steady, inscrutable look. Once again, he reminded her of Aeolus, a keen-thinking predator who would track his prey and cut it down without so much as a glimmer of hesitation or remorse. In a bird, she understood the behavior, which was natural and instinctual.
But in a man . . .
My God, can I possibly go through with this and marry him? He’s a stranger and a rather intimidating one at that. Then again, how can I refuse, given the alternative that awaits me?
Because reluctant though she might be, Edward was right; she would regret never marrying, never having a home and children of her own. But did she want them with Lord Northcote, who clearly had little more enthusiasm for this marriage than she did herself?
Hades and hangnails,
she thought,
I don’t even know his first name!
“Mayhap Lady Esme and I might have another private minute to talk,” Northcote said to Edward. “Then she can give you her final decision.”
Edward’s brows drew close. “Esme? What do you say? Shall I leave you with the viscount?”
She paused, scrutinizing Northcote for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Yes. He and I should talk again, properly this time.”
Edward looked concerned, more so than he had on the first occasion when he’d left them alone. But a few seconds later, he turned toward the door. “We’ll all still be just outside.”
After shooting a look of warning at Northcote, he exited the room and closed the door behind him.
• • •
“So, Lady Esme, here we are again.”
Gabriel watched her, wondering what thoughts were flitting through that quick mind of hers. She’d certainly made no effort to conceal the fact that she wasn’t the least bit eager to tie the knot with him. He supposed he should be glad to know he wasn’t on the verge of marrying a conniving liar who had deliberately led him into a trap. Then again, he hadn’t liked the direction the conversation with her brother had taken. Was there another man? A prospective suitor for whom she might harbor tender feelings? If so, that would end immediately. He was no saint, but that didn’t mean he would stand idly by and allow himself to be made a cuckold. That had been his father’s error; it would never be his.
“What is this about Eversley?” he said, his words easy yet laced with an underlying steel that anyone familiar with him would have known to heed. “Have I a rival of whom I ought to be aware?”
Her eyes rounded slightly at the question. “No. Well, not anymore it would seem. Lord Eversley may have hoped—more than hoped, actually. He danced attendance on me this past spring in London and came here to Braebourne so we could get to know each other better in a more relaxed atmosphere. But amiable though he is, I did not encourage him. Rather the opposite, despite my family’s approval of a match between us.”
So the Byrons had entertained ideas of a unionbetween Lady Esme and this Eversley fellow, had they? Their disappointment must be even greater than he had