“Well, you made me lose a bloody fortune,” Howard groused.
“What the blazes are you babbling about?”
“The betting book at White’s.” Howard struggled to remain upright. “The odds were fifty to one that you had traveled to London to choose a bride. Had you given me even the slightest clue, I should have made a tidy return. As it is, I lost twenty quid.”
“That is why you are angry? Because you wanted to bet on my engagement?”
“It was also rude.” Howard futilely attempted to smooth his wrinkled lapels. “Whether you choose to acknowledge the connection or not, I am your cousin. I should not be the last to discover you have selected your bride.”
Edmond rolled his eyes toward the foggy heavens. “Christ.”
BRIANNA WAS PLEASANTLY surprised to discover that, while Lady Montgomery’s guests were naturally anxious to meet the woman who had managed to capture the elusive Duke of Huntley, they were polite enough not to crush her in one great stampede.
Indeed, after situating Brianna and Lady Aberlane on a pretty brocade sofa near the center of the long salon, Lady Montgomery had taken care to ensure that no more than two or three were ever allowed to linger before being gently urged toward the refreshment tables.
The carefully choreographed introductions allowed Brianna to easily recall the various responses she had rehearsed over the past few days and to deflect the more impertinent queries. It also left far too many opportunities for her attention to stray toward the dark, magnificent gentleman who moved with such ease among the crowd.
No matter how hard she attempted to put her aggravating fiancé from her mind, she was vibrantly aware of his every movement. It was as if every other person in the room faded to insignificance, leaving Edmond to shimmer with a potent, relentless force that demanded her unwavering attention.
Aggravating wretch.
Of course, it was that inability to ignore his presence that allowed her to track his deliberate path across the room to confront the thin, dark-haired gentleman in the corner of the room. Her brows lifted as she realized that she recognized the obviously tipsy gentleman.
Spreading her fan with a flick of her wrist, Brianna covertly leaned toward Lady Aberlane to whisper beneath her breath.
“Good heavens, is that Howard Summerville?”
Following her glance, the older woman offered a small nod of her head. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Brianna narrowed her gaze. Lady Aberlane should be as astonished as Brianna at the man’s presence. After all, the entire ton knew that the Duke of Huntley refused to be beneath the same roof as his cousin.
Which begged the question of just how deeply Lady Aberlane was involved in Edmond’s nefarious plans.
“I thought the two families were at odds with one another,” Brianna whispered. “Something like the Capulets and Montagues.”
Her companion gave a flutter of her hands, although Brianna did not miss the swift glance toward Edmond, who was leading the drunken Howard toward a far door.
“Oh, certainly nothing so dramatic,” she murmured.
“No?”
Lady Aberlane smiled wryly at the direct challenge. “Well, I suppose it is true that Stefan and Edmond hold little love for their cousin.”
“So why are they walking together as if they are bosom buddies?”
“That, my dear, I cannot say.”
“Hmm.” Closing her fan with a snap, Brianna rose to her feet.
“Brianna, where are you going?”
A smile of pure determination curved Brianna’s lips. “It is rather stuffy in here, do you not think? I believe I will step onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air.”
Lady Aberlane reached up to lay her hand on Brianna’s arm. “Do you truly think you should disturb them, my dear? Your fiancé may have business to discuss with his cousin.”
Brianna narrowed her gaze. “What sort of business?”
“The sort he does not desire to be interrupted.”