Free One Tempting Proposal by Christy Carlyle Page A

him. He turned his head to meet the gaze of the boldest among them who’d moved to position herself in his path, a dark-­haired beauty with eyes as cold and devoid of warmth as chips of onyx.
    â€œYour Grace.” The young woman dipped her head and made a slight bending motion, an uninspired version of a curtsy.
    They hadn’t been introduced, but Seb couldn’t bring himself to be as rude as she’d been to Miss Benson. He nodded to acknowledge her and continue on his way just as Katherine Adderly stepped into the ballroom, halting him midstride. Half expecting her to approach and claim the waltz he’d offered, he shivered with a trickle of anticipation at the prospect. But she didn’t spare him a single glance before making her way toward the young buck. Wellesley, Ollie had called him.
    Seb almost felt sorry for the peacock. Eyes flashing with determination, stride quick and forceful, Lady Katherine looked like Athena marching into battle. And Wellesley defended himself as well as he was able in the middle of a ballroom, crossing his arms over his chest and taking two steps back when she reached his side.
    They were too far away for Seb to hear their discussion but from the vigor of the man’s nods and the way she kept wagging her finger at him, Seb guessed the lady would get her way, whatever she was after. He suspected she usually did.
    The Wellesley gent tipped back the glass of whatever he’d been drinking, handed the vessel to an unsuspecting chap nearby, sketched a half-­hearted bow in Lady Katherine’s direction, and set off on the mission she’d given him. His stride nearly matched hers for determination as he beelined toward Pippa and Miss Benson. Both young women looked as shocked as Mr. Wellesley had been when Lady Katherine approached him, if a good deal less frightened. Miss Benson blinked several times before allowing the young man to take her hand and lead her to the edge of the ballroom floor to wait for the next set.
    â€œDo you think it’s a trick?”
    Seb heard Pippa’s voice before he saw her emerge through a group of ladies and gentlemen gathered near his edge of the ballroom. Rather than move around them, she’d reached out an arm to force her own path, whispering excuses and ignoring their irritated glares and tuts of disapproval as she passed.
    â€œCareful, Pippa.” She stumbled as she drew near, and Seb reached out a hand to steady her.
    â€œIf she’s engineered this to humiliate Annabel, you can’t possibly dance with her.” She was upset and a bit disheveled, strands of hair breaking free every which way. She scooped several behind her ear. “And despite Ollie’s hopes, you mustn’t dream of marrying her.”
    Pippa couldn’t know it—­she’d been young and occupied with lessons in the nursery—­but Seb had heard the same words once before. Not the bit about Annabel Benson, of course, but the plea that he not allow the notion of marrying Miss Alecia Lloyd to enter his mind. His father’s face had been sad when he’d said it, his tone fearful, much more pleading than stern. Their father had never managed stern. And Seb hadn’t required the admonition. He’d already begun to see beyond her façade and unravel a few of her lies.
    â€œOllie mentioned his hopes to you?” Seb asked, unaware the chill between his sister and friend had thawed.
    â€œHe can’t contain himself. He speaks of nothing but Lady Harriet and how fine a match his sister would make for you.”
    The moment she mentioned her, Seb caught sight of the woman Pippa insisted he not marry. Though the strains of the next waltz filled the room, Lady Katherine seemed completely uninterested in taking him up on his offer of a dance. She stood near the edge of the waltzing ­couples, fully occupied with trailing her gaze after Annabel Benson, who moved around the ballroom in the arms of Mr.