“Banning was bluffing. He wanted to test Blackburn’s love for you,” Avis said.
Jennette held her stomach as it began to roil. “Oh God, I think I am going to be sick.”
“No, you will not,” Avis said sternly. “There is nothing to worry yourself over. Blackburn loves you.”
“But he’s never told me that,” Jennette whispered. “He has never spoken those words to me.”
Jennette drank her wine down quickly and wished for more. Not that the wine seemed to help either her stomach or her nerves.
“He needs my money, Avis. Without it, he cannot help his tenants. He can’t pay his father’s gambling
debts. He shall have no ability to refurbish his homes.”
“Jennette, if he loves you, none of that will matter,” Elizabeth said softly.
“Elizabeth, don’t be so romantic. He has to marry a woman with money,” Jennette answered coldly. She suddenly felt as if her world were splitting apart into pieces too small to ever put back together again. She leaned against the wall, afraid she might faint.
He would never offer for her now.
She had to find him and tell him the truth about her money.
Matthew watched Jennette from across the room. Never in his thirty years had he felt this nervous about anything. Somehow, he had to convince Jennette that marrying him wouldn’t be a mistake. Even though he had nothing to offer her but his love, it would be enough. God, that sounded so sanguine. While in truth, he had nothing.
She appeared more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. The white silk of her dress shimmered like pearls in candlelight against her skin. He shouldn’t feel so tense. She told him his potential bride would appear as Aphrodite.
She’d worn that dress as a message to him. Encouraging him to propose and she would agree.
And yet, he couldn’t eradicate the feeling that something was going to happen tonight. Something dreadful. This heavy mood just would not lift.
“Are you ever going to get up your nerve and ask her?”
“Good evening, Somerton,” Matthew replied with barely a look sidewise to him. “Are you ever going to keep your nose out of my business?”
“Not with this.”
“And why not?”
Somerton smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in seeing you two married.”
“Oh?”
Somerton shrugged nonchalantly. “I think you two belong together.”
“Am I supposed to believe that? Everyone knows you don’t care about anything.” Matthew glanced down at his watch—twenty more minutes of this inane conversation.
“Perhaps you found my fatal flaw,” Somerton said with a grin.
“A hopeless romantic?”
“If you need to think that to propose to her, then believe it.”
“And yet, I don’t see you working to improve your reputation in order to find an appropriate bride,” Matthew said.
“I have no need for a wife,” Somerton answered a bit harshly. “I don’t need money. I have too many cousins so an heir isn’t a priority, no matter what my father says. And if I need a woman, there are plenty who would love to warm this rake’s bed.”
Matthew looked up and noticed Selby walking directly toward them. This could not be good.
“Selby,” Matthew said with a nod. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”