An Earl of her Own (Saints and Sinners 3) - Page 46
She would make a perfect countess, but he knew precisely why he’d not thought of her before. She was not sweet. She was not even particularly friendly. She was argumentative, disapproving of Adam’s drinking. Slow to change—her father had warned him of that one.
Yet, Adam found Rebecca wildly appealing despite all that.
Rebecca knew everybody he knew. She knew precisely the right fork to go with the right plates, the right dishes to serve at a lavish wedding. She was beyond painfully organized. Those were not skills they shared. Adam was spontaneous, optimistic and frank.
She was none of those—except when they had been alone together.
Rebecca had once complained that he was a degenerate drunk with no sense of decency. He’d deserved that set down because he’d stumbled into a bedchamber meant for her use. For years, he’d used the drink to keep him company.
Never again would he need to if he married her.
He leaned close to her and whispered, “Dance with me?”
She looked so startled he had to smile.
“Dance with me tomorrow at the wedding.”
“You don’t dance.”
“I used to,” he admitted. “I haven’t felt the need to in years.”
Her brow creased with a frown. “Have you been drinking again?”
He didn’t blame her for the question. He’d been playing the drunk for so long, she couldn’t yet see the change she’d wrought. “No, and I’m still waiting for an answer, madam.”
“I don’t mean to dance at all tomorrow night,” she told him. “I’m sorry.”
“Damn but you don’t make it easy for a man,” he told her, but he could see her face had set into frost once more because his voice had become louder. How was he supposed to woo her if she refused to accommodate such a harmless request? Men and women danced together all the time and it meant nothing. No one cared about one single dance. Two, though, and people might whisper. “Make no mistake, I’ll be back tomorrow night when the dancing begins to ask you again to stand up with me.”
He bowed to her and stalked off to cool his temper. In the past, he would have headed straight for a bottle. But he would not fall back on old habits yet. Her lack of ease around him in public was a small setback. One he would overcome with her. One day.
He groaned out loud, and then turned on his heel and took himself to bed. Alone again and doubly frustrated. There was nothing to be gained in remaining in the drawing room if he couldn’t talk to her.
He was inside his room only ten minutes before the door opened and closed behind him.
Rebecca had followed him. “What is wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me? Everything—and it is your fault.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. I thought you said you were enjoying your evening.”
“I wanted to enjoy it more, with you by my side.” He raked a hand through his hair as his frustration exceeded his patience. “You are so afraid someone might see us together and leap to conclusions you constantly deny me your time.”
“Have you no care for my reputation?”
“Of course I care about that, but I wasn’t about to seduce you in the drawing room. Promising to dance one dance with me does not necessarily amount to shouting that you’ve had me.”
“Shh,” she warned because his voice had risen.
“Yes, I’m well aware that you live your life expecting the worst. I, however, do not.”
“I have a lot to lose,” she warned.
“And so much to gain if you could just trust me a little.”
“I trusted a man once,” she complained bitterly.
He advanced on her. “I am not Warner. I never once strayed in my marriage. I would not treat you so poorly.”
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