Page 41 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess (Wallflower Season #3)

Jonathan glanced down to Marina whose gaze was firmly affixed to the floor. Her fingers indented into his arm nearly painfully to keep from speaking up. Their mother was being insensitive, but he could not call her out on it here.

He could not stand to see her too uncomfortable.

He could not stand the flighty way that Marina’s eyes darted from one person to the next as if there were a villain around every corner.

She needed time to mend herself, to heal and move forward.

He would not force a husband on her until that time.

If she happened to fall in love during the interim time, he would not stop that either.

Honestly, it would be the best of all available scenarios.

Yet no amount of assurances on his part would convince his fretful mother that he would not marry until his sister was married and very well established in her own home.

It hurt his pride that she did not think he was willing to put the comforts of his sister over his own. He would do anything for Marina.

Out of habit, Jonathan looked for his uncle once more — happily spotting him across the room, surrounded by a group of mamas and their very full wine glasses. The man gestured wildly as he happily recanted some story or another that had the lot of them transfixed by him.

Across the room, as if sensing their distress, Frederick looked over and caught Jonathan’s eye. It was not particularly brave, but Jonathan waved his uncle back over. The man was always far better at handling his sister-in-law. It was an art form that Jonathan clearly had not mastered.

“What are you—” Phyllis noticed that Frederick was saying his goodbyes and detaching himself from the group he had been speaking to in order to come weaving his way back toward them. “Typical,” she tutted in disappointment.

Yet she stopped her lecturing and badgering, so his recalling his uncle had had his desired effect. The only downside was now that the mamas were no longer occupied with Frederick, they were going to turn their attention to him and what he could or could not do for their daughters.

The moment that he was in reach, Jonathan very carefully and pointedly transferred Marina’s hand from his own arm to that of his Uncle’s.

“Would you mind escorting dear Marina to the powder room for a moment?” Jonathan requested without looking at the look of accusation on his mother’s face. “I need just a moment.”

Frederick glanced from one face to the other and patted Marina’s hand lovingly.

“But of course! There is nothing that I would rather do than be the escort, boy!” He laughed a touch too loudly at his own bad joke and turned quickly away from Phyllis before she could offer to do that herself.

It was a game of keep away that they would play between Marina and her mother tonight.

“Many thanks,” Jonathan grinned. He just needed a moment to put things into perspective for himself he thought.

He watched as Frederick started to whisper silly stories to Marina in hopes of cheering her up.

He did not give a second thought to her anger before he turned for the exit to the ballroom once more.

There was a simple pleasure in allowing oneself to simply enjoy an evening.

Jonathan was of the sort to never deny himself the small moments of joy, nor was he to deny any amount of anything else should he desire it.

However, the downside of that would always be excess.

Too much and it had him feeling overly giddy and warm.

Just the sort of thing that a cool evening breeze was the perfect remedy for.

In a moment, he would go back inside. In a moment, he would return to his duties. At least, he could take solace in knowing that for however long it was that he remained outside, Marina was free to hide away in the powder room.

Jonathan exhaled slowly, letting his hands grasp the stone banister as he leaned back, stretching out his shoulders and filling his lungs.

His dark eyes turned up to the skyline where the stars remained nestled among a black blanket of night.

He did not even hear the footsteps coming up behind him until a small body cleared its throat.

“I’m not intruding on anything, am I?” the sweet-faced woman said softly, batting her overly long lashes up at him.

She was easily the most beautiful woman that he had ever set eyes upon.

Far and wide, he had never seen an assembly of features quite so perfectly placed.

Her gown was a pale powder pink with an almost sheer top layer of white overlaid.

Simple pearls dangled from her ears and punctuated each swirled bit of hair in her updo.

In the moonlight, her pale skin seemed to glow, making her cherubic features nearly sinful to look at with the thoughts that came rushing to the forefront of his mind.

“Not at all, there is always room for those who wish to take in the night air,” Jonathan breathed, making a dramatic show of sidestepping on the open terrace as if to ‘make room’ for her when there had already been plenty.

She had an effortless sort of beauty, her white gloves up to her elbows and what appeared to be a very full dance card dangling from her wrist. She was precisely the sort of woman that a man of his reputation had absolutely no business being anywhere near.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, clasping her hands behind her back as she took a step forward to stand beside him at the railing, overlooking the grand gardens.

“It’s my pleasure,” Jonathan teased. It was not as if he had put forth any real effort whatsoever. He glanced back over the direction that she had come from, noting that she was not accompanied by a chaperone. Not even the neglectful sort that liked to linger at improper distances, none at all.

Jonathan moved to copy her posture, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Though, perhaps it should be better if I leave you to enjoy the night sky alone this evening; I should not wish to put you in a poor position by being seen alone with a strange gentleman.” He winked down at her and bowed forward.

“Please, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He took a half step away from her before her pleasant mask dropped. “No!” she exclaimed, and Jonathan paused; her hand lifted as if she could have stopped him somehow. His brow lifted in question as his head cocked to the side.

“No?” he echoed.

“Sorry, I do not presume to tell you what to do, Your Grace. I mean to say, no, please, do not leave so suddenly.” The woman lowered her hand slightly and smiled meekly.

“Am I to understand that you wish to be alone on a terrace with a perfect stranger? It is a bold thing to assume, of course, but I am not certain that given the setting it is the wisest of choices that you could make.” Curious, Jonathan took a step back toward her, turning to look down at her while she seemed to struggle for the words she wished to say.

“I confess it; I have come out here looking for you,” she replied. “I had hoped to go about this more elegantly but…I am not certain how to accomplish it.”

Jonathan smiled and leaned against the railing.

He shifted to cross his feet at the ankle and his arms across his broad chest. “Well, perhaps I can be of some assistance. What is it that you are wishing to accomplish?” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping.

“I find that being direct is often a good approach.” Something that he did not think that she would have an issue with, given that she had apparently come here purposefully.

“You are the Duke of Winbury, are you not?” She flicked her eyes up to him, and his mouth went dry. The night sky seemed perfectly reflected in her blue orbs.

“Ah, so I am not a total stranger to you…but knowing my title puts me at something of a loss I think…Lady—?”

“Scarlet,” she said quickly, holding out a hand and dropping her hold on her skirt. “Miss Scarlet.”

Jonathan took her hand and twisted, leaning to kiss her knuckles in formal greeting. He could smell the perfume oil she wore on her gloves; it was intoxicating. “No family name, Miss Scarlet?”

“I think that with what I am looking for, Your Grace, the less you know about my family, the better,” she nearly stammered, a pink flush decorating the tops of her cheeks.

“Is that right?” There was no way that he could have walked away from her now, not when his curiosity was so piqued.

Scarlet nodded once and shifted somewhat anxiously on her feet. She seemed to catch herself in the next moment and stopped herself. She visibly gathered up courage as she let her eyes drag up from his chest to linger on his lips.

“Ah,” Jonathan said. “My reputation precedes me, I see.”

He could not help himself. He turned and placed a flat palm on the banister, forcing her to angle herself closer to him.

He leaned down, allowing himself to examine every bit of her nearly flawless beauty.

She was unspoiled and yet bold. In all of his travels, he did not come across many women who were bold in this fashion, and never when it put them in a position that could come at such a high cost to themselves.

He wondered what exactly it was that she must have heard about him that convinced her to think that coming out here in search of him was actually a good idea in the first place.

It would be so easy to reach out and touch her.

It would be easy to let his knuckles run down the soft skin of her face and trail down her slender neck. Public or not.

“Tell me, Miss Scarlet, what could have prompted a debutant such as yourself to have come out here, seeking me out in this way? Just tell me what it is, exactly, that you think you would like from me?” He leaned in closer, indecently close. “A dance?”

Scarlet flushed a deeper pink, bringing out the light dusting of freckles that graced the bridge of her nose. A little rose, flushing for him with such little effort that he could not help but wonder what else might make her blush in that way.

“N…no. Not a dance, Your Grace—”

“Then what is it, Miss Scarlet?” Any closer and his nose would brush against hers.

“I thought that perhaps…well…I had been hoping rather—” She could not get the words out. Her eyes dropped from his eyes down to the stone his hand rested on. Jonathan backed away and straightened his spine.

“My darling, if you cannot say the words of your desires out loud, I do not think that you are in any such position to be making such requests.” He grinned, not unkindly, and shook his head.

“You should return inside before your absence is noticed by your governess. I understand how thrilling a prospect it is for some…but I do not make a habit of deflowering debutants…no matter what rumors you might have heard about me.” He gestured with two fingers back in the direction that she had come, waiting for her to scamper away.

“Now get back inside; if you are spotted out here with me, you shall be ruined.”