The Honourable Fortune Hunter (Scandalous Miss Brightwells 5)

Theodore shrugged. “I told you there was no point in my trying to claim my innocence. Once the story was taken up in the bald terms Dalgleish relayed to you, your reaction has been, I have found, the most usual.”

She looked at him askance. “You don’t do yourself any favours if the case is not quite as…straightforward as it appears.”

Theodore considered her a moment.

“Well, Lizzy, I’m sure I am no better than I’ve been painted.” He hesitated, then said in a softer tone, “Last night should have confirmed that.”

A fiery blush stole up from her décolletage and tinged her cheeks with pink. How delightfully charming she looked. A delectable combination of innocence and minx.

She drew herself up. “I’m sorry that Susan compelled you to dance with me. I cannot imagine why she should trouble herself.”

“Because she can’t bear the thought of you marrying Dalgleish.”

“Is that so? Well, I am hardly spoiled for choice,” she said with a rueful look.

“And with that statement you’ve proved that you really are too young and foolish to be thinking of marrying.”

“And you’re too rude for anyone to want to have you for their husband yet you tell me you’re already spoken for.”

“Which, I’d have thought, would explain my attitude perfectly,” he said softly.

She bit her lip, her look troubled. “I wish I knew the truth about you, Theo.”

“You do. But you do not wish to believe it. And why should it matter?” He prepared to bow and so finish their union as the dance was coming to an end, adding,“For indeed, I am spoken for.”

Lizzy left him more discombobulated than she could recall. She hadn’t wanted to dance with him. And yet she had.

He exerted a pull she couldn’t explain. It was the dangerous kind, she knew. She was susceptible to scoundrels. Mrs Hodge had told her that.

Now Lizzy believed her. Mr McAlister was a scoundrel and he was spoken for. He’d kissed her last night when he should not have. He’d coldly withdrawn when he’d realised how badly he’d behaved to his intended.

And he had only danced with Lizzy just now because Susan had asked it of him.

“And now it is my turn to claim what is mine.” Harry’s triumphant tone should have lifted her sprits, and although she did try and smile with all the encouragement he would have expected, her heart felt very heavy and her mind very disordered.

When he asked her what she’d thought of Mr McAlister’s dancing abilities, she had answered that they were not up to scratch; and in every other way she’d massaged Harry’s ego so that he was positively purring when they parted company.

“I am glad to see you’ve seen sense, Lizzy.” Mrs Hodge was at her side, nodding approvingly as she looked across at Harry, who’d joined a company of young men well in their cups. She wondered if he was a carouser and a gambler.

Like Mr McAlister, so she had heard.

Mrs Hodge must have been able to read her thoughts, for, glancing from Harry back to Lizzy, she said, “A good thing your Mr Dalgleish has kept safe what he inherited. Unlike Mr McAlister who lost everything within a year of his father’s death.”

Lizzy had heard it from several other sources too during the past two days, and while she’d tried to use it to her advantage—that is, to quash any feeling she might have for Theo—it seemed it only took a look from him and immediately she was dreaming up every fanciful thought as to how the opprobrium heaped upon him must be untrue.

“Has Mr Dalgleish said anything about marriage yet?”

“I’ve made it very clear I shan’t entertain such talk until I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.” She fluttered her fan. “Perhaps I’ll not marry until I’m twenty-five and can decide what to do with my fortune, myself.”

This had the satisfactory effect of turning Mrs Hodge an interesting shade of puce, and as an elderly friend chose that moment to join them, Lizzy used the excuse to slip away.

The evening was drawing to a close, and there was little of interest now. She could see no sign of Mr McAlister and, when she saw Harry glance across at her and appear to disengage himself from his group, Lizzy quickly went up to Mrs Hodge and told her she was going to her bedchamber.

She was one of the few guests in this wing, and so the walk was long and without company. Her room was at the far end of the corridor. As she trailed through the Long Gallery she slowed her footsteps, hoping against hope she’d come upon Mr McAlister. Surely, if he were the slightest bit interested, he’d wait there to waylay her.

But he was to wed another young woman.

She wondered if he loved this woman. Or if she loved him.