The Convenient Felstone Marriage (Whitby Weddings 1)

‘It’s my pleasure. As I said earlier, I’m glad to be of service.’

She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. ‘I didn’t think I’d need your help again so soon.’

‘Miss Holt?’ He looked genuinely concerned. ‘Are you upset? Shall I escort you to the cloakroom?’

‘No.’ She shook her head firmly. If she started to cry, she didn’t know whether she’d be able to stop. ‘I’d rather stay here.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

He smiled gallantly, and she dropped her gaze at once. She’d forgotten quite how handsome he was when he smiled. The effect was quite disconcerting. Never mind that the way he said the words was almost tender, his deep voice curling around each syllable like a caress. She was seized by the irrational thought that he ought to read poetry. He’d be good at it.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘I ought to thank you for earlier, too, for staying when I asked. I’m indebted.’

‘There’s no debt. Considering my behaviour yesterday, it was the least I could do.’ He nodded his head to where the Baronet was still standing on the

edge of the dance floor, watching them with an enraged expression. ‘I see we were half-successful. We made him jealous, though not enough to chase him away completely. He won’t take his eyes off you.’

‘No.’ She shivered. ‘He does that.’

‘Watches you?’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘He doesn’t look very happy with either of us. You say he was friends with your parents?’

‘My father really. Though he knew my mother first, from when they were young. Not that she liked him.’ She hesitated for a moment, before deciding to go on. ‘I heard my parents argue about him once. My mother didn’t want him to visit any more, but my father said she was imagining things. I didn’t hear what, but the words stayed with me.’ She gave a small shudder. ‘Sir Charles used to stare at her like that, too.’

‘If I didn’t know better I’d have thought you were already engaged.’

‘What?’ She tensed at once. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He seems very possessive.’

‘And you think I’m to blame?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You think I’ve encouraged him?’

‘Not at all.’ His brows knit together sternly. ‘I was commenting on his behaviour, Miss Holt, not yours.’

‘I think I’d remember agreeing to marry someone!’

She clenched her jaw, fuming inwardly. Even if he hadn’t meant to imply anything about her behaviour, the very idea was enraging. Everyone else in the room was likely thinking the same thing, too. That was probably the reason why no one else had asked her for a dance. Mr Felstone was the only one willing to risk the Baronet’s displeasure.

Perhaps she was venting her anger on the wrong man after all...

‘You’ve done a wonderful job here.’ She gestured around the room, shifting the subject back to more neutral territory. ‘It’s so inventive.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’ He was still frowning. ‘Though my involvement was mainly financial. I’m afraid my flower-arranging skills are sadly lacking.’

‘Well, it looks beautiful. And the music...’ she gestured towards the orchestra ‘...they’re very good.’

‘They are. You’re an excellent dancer, too, Miss Holt, for someone who claims not to like it.’

‘Thank you. I used to enjoy it.’

‘Used to?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Am I such a terrible partner, then?’

She felt her lips quirk upwards, unable to suppress a smile. ‘Not at all. I meant when I was younger.’

‘As opposed to your great age now? I wouldn’t put you in the chaperons’ section quite yet.’