Page 22 of In the Prince's Bed

“Excellent, then we’ll deal together nicely.Ifyou agree to my terms.”

“I hardly see why I should refrain from talking about Sydney—”

“No talking about Sydney. Or no deal.” He glanced over to where Katherine’s mother was now regaling Lovelace with some tale that had the baronet looking frantic to escape. “Ah, look at your suitor and your mother. They get on so well, don’t you think? Perhaps you won’t need my help after all.”

As Mrs. Merivale’s grating laugh sounded clear across the ballroom, Katherine groaned. “Whoever dictated that young ladies need chaperones never knew Mama. She would drive even the most determined suitor away.”

He’d feel sorry for her if her mother weren’t playing so well into his plans. “So?” he pressed his point. “Do you agree to my terms or not?”

She cast him a grimly determined smile. “When do we start, my lord?”

***

An hour later, Katherine was already having second thoughts about Alec’s plan. Especially since Sydney’s response to Alec’s attentions was to disappear into the card room. He hadn’t even seen her accept Alec’s second invitation to dance. And although that reel was ending and Alec was leading her from the floor, she still saw no sign of Sydney.

“Now we’ve run him off entirely,” she muttered, as they squeezed past a clump of chattering girls and their chaperones.

Alec shot her an enigmatic glance. “You’re not giving up already, are you? No race was ever won by a rider who accepted defeat fresh out of the gate. Stay the course and give him time. He’ll come round.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then he’s an idiot, and you’re better off without him.”

“You don’t understand—Sydney isn’t like other men.” She scanned the room, annoyed to find that neither Sydney nor her mother was anywhere in sight. “He’s liable to see my flirtation with you either as a betrayal or as evidence of my vulgarity.”

“You aren’t vulgar,” he snapped. “Don’t ever let him say you are.”

The edge to his tone took her by surprise. She glanced up to see him staring grimly ahead, his jaw taut with anger.

“Why do you care?” she asked softly.

His eyes met hers, vividly blue. “My father used to call my mother that. ‘You’re a vulgar little Cit,’ he’d say, and she would bow her head and acknowledge the insult. As if she deserved it simply because she’d once—” He broke off, jerking his gaze away. “She didn’t deserve it. And neither do you.”

That glimpse into Alec’s past intrigued her. “I thought perhaps you and your mother didn’t get along. The gossips say you didn’t even return to England when she fell ill. I understand she lingered for some time.”

His face grew shuttered. “There was a war on, and the family had trouble…reaching me. I didn’t receive word of her illness until long after her death. By then, there was no point.”

“I see.” But she didn’t really. As much as she cringed at her mother’s raucous laugh or crass musings about what everything cost, she couldn’t imagine losing touch with her so entirely that months of an illness could go by without her knowing. Or not coming to the family’s aid even after her mother’s death.

Then again, if Alec’s father had been as awful as he sounded…Oh, why did she care? Alec was only a means to an end.

“Speaking of mothers,” Alec remarked, “perhaps yours is in the refreshments room. We should look there.”

She nodded and let him lead her under the cherry blossom arch into the other room. A blossom fell onto her gloved hand that lay on his arm. It clung there until he reached over and flicked it off. Then covered her hand with his.

She suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Painfully conscious of his warm hand atop hers, she searched the room, but Mama wasn’t there, either. “Knowing my mother, she deliberately disappeared when she saw the dance ending. That way you couldn’t bring me to her, and you’d be forced to spend more time in my company.”

“What a sacrifice,” he teased. “I see that your mother and I will be fast friends.”

“You say that now because you don’t know her. She’s always doing things like this. I have half a mind to march off in search of her by myself.”

“But you won’t because…”

“It’s not proper.” She sighed. “Although that’s a foolish rule if I ever heard one. What harm is there in a woman’s traversing a ballroom alone?”

“Nice to know I’m not the only one who doesn’t take the proprieties seriously.”