The Ideal Bride (Cynster 11)

“No, we can’t.” She was not going to act as a political or diplomatic hostess for him or any man ever again. In her own right, she might enjoy exercising her true talents, but she would not play that role for any man again.

He’d turned away to set their plates on a side table; when he turned back, she was surprised to discover his expression serious, his blue eyes unusually hard, yet his tone when he spoke was calming. “We can, and will, but not here, not now.”

For an instant, he held her gaze; she was looking at the real man, not the politician. Then he smiled, and his social mask overlaid that too-determined look; raising his head, he took her arm. “Come and help me with Mrs. Harris. How many children does she have these days?”

Reminding herself that despite his occasional lapses into what she classified as “presumptuous male” behavior, she was in good humor with him, she consented to accompany him and speak with Mrs. Harris.

And subsequently with a succession of others.

When, courtesy of a speculative glance from old Mrs. Tricket, she realized that his liking for her company was raising hares, rather than argue—in her experience a pointless exercise with a presumptuous male—she seized the opportunity of Muriel’s being in the group with whom they were engaged to move to her side and murmur, “Thank you for a very pleasant evening.”

Muriel, taking in Michael at her side, currently speaking with Mrs. Ellingham, looked at her in surprise. “You’re leaving?”

She smiled. “Indeed. I wanted to mention…I’ve decided to hold a ball on the evening before the fete. There are a number of the diplomatic set presently in the area—I thought if they stay overnight, they can attend the fete the next day, boosting our attendance.”

“Ah.” Muriel blinked. “I see.”

She didn’t appear enamored of the notion, but that was almost certainly because she hadn’t thought of it first. Patting her arm, Caro went on, “I left Edward and Elizabeth struggling with the invitations—I must go and do my part. Again, thank you—I’ll send your invitation around tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Muriel nodded, her gaze going past Caro. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I must to see to.”

They parted. Caro turned to Michael, who had finished with Mrs. Ellingham. She let her smile deepen. “I’m heading home.”

She went to draw her hand from his arm and step away, but he moved with her. She paused when they were clear of the group, but he steered her on. Toward the front hall.

When she looked at him and let her puzzlement show, he gifted her with a smile she knew wasn’t genuine. “I’ll drive you home.”

A statement, not an offer; his tone—determined—was more real than his smile.

Her heels struck the hall tiles as she imagined it—driving home on the seat of his curricle, the night dark and balmy about them, his hard, solid body so close to hers…“No, thank you. I prefer to walk.”

He halted; they were out of sight of the company in the drawing room. “In case it’s escaped your notice, it’s now full dark outside.”

She shrugged. “It’s not as if I don’t know the way.”

“It’s what—a hundred yards or so to your gate, and then four hundred or more to the front steps?”

“This is Hampshire, not London. There isn’t any danger.”

Michael glanced at Muriel’s footman, standing waiting by the door. “Have my carriage brought around.”

“Yes, sir.”

The footman hurried off to comply. When Michael looked again at Caro, he found she’d narrowed her eyes.

“I am not—”

“Why are you arguing?”

She opened her lips, paused, then lifted her chin. “You haven’t taken your leave of Muriel. I’ll be halfway home by the time you do.”

He frowned, recalling. “She went into the dining room.”

Caro smiled. “You’ll need to go and find her.”

A sound behind them made him glance around. Hedderwick, Muriel’s spouse, had just come out of the library. No doubt he’d been imbibing something stronger than sherry, but was now returning to his wife’s party.

“Perfect,” Michael said beneath his breath. He raised his voice. “Hedderwick! Just the man. I need to be on my way, but Muriel’s disappeared. Please convey my thanks for an excellent evening and my apologies for having to leave without thanking her in person.”