Mismatched Under the Mistletoe - Jess Michaels Page 0,9
of her more charming qualities. But her exuberance meant she was not very good at subterfuge. Perhaps that was a way he could help her as they went along. God knew he had practice in lying.
“I’m sure she isn’t doing something so bold,” he lied. He leaned forward and glanced around Allington at Lady Thea. She was talking to her mother softly. “Would it be so bad if she were, though? She’s placed you next to Lady Thea, and she is pretty enough. I’ve heard she’s smart as a whip, too.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Allington grunted. “She has hardly said two words to me tonight. Aside from a barely polite greeting, she only glares at me, as if she is offended by my very existence.”
“Not an auspicious start,” Cav muttered. “Perhaps Lady Rutledge will seat you beside someone else tomorrow. Until then, I am not the worst tablemate, am I?”
Allington gave another glare, this one more pointed than the last. “You can afford to be nonchalant about this. The lady doesn’t seem to be arranging you beside anyone, does she? Don’t you wonder why that is?”
As the final course was placed before them, Allington was distracted. Cav was just as happy, for he wasn’t in the mood to discuss Emily’s reasons not to match him. He knew what they were, after all. She saw him as a friend, nothing more. She expected him to always be there, holding out a hand to steady her when she stumbled. Offering a shoulder when she needed to weep.
He’d allowed himself to be placed in that position for so long that despite his reputation, he wasn’t certain how to move from it. Either away from her or toward her.
He pushed the thoughts aside and the meal concluded shortly thereafter. The men and ladies parted company, the men heading to the billiard room with Cav for port and talk. He led them inside and poured the drinks as the conversation started.
“How long has Lady Rutledge been out of mourning?” Adrian Powell asked as he lined up the balls for a game.
Cav fought the urge to stiffen and finished handing out the drinks in silence. Of course no one else avoided that subject, as he did. It was bound to come up with her as hostess for this event.
“Several years,” Lord Weatherall mused. “Though she’s only been back in Society for…how long is it now, Cavendish?”
“Eighteen months,” Cav said softly.
Nathan Hayward took a shot at the billiard table and swore as it bounced wrong. Then he straightened up. “Took Rutledge’s passing hard, it seems. But tonight she was lively.”
“And lovely,” Weatherall said with a chuckle and a raised glass. “I wouldn’t mind making merry chase with that one.”
That resulted in a rousing laugh for the rest of the men. Cav fought to remain impassive. They weren’t being disgusting or threatening. Rakes though they might be, none of the men Emily had invited to her soiree were cruel of heart. He would have intervened if that were the case.
But their casual implication that they’d like to pursue Emily still hit something…raw in him.
He’d stood by, quiet when he had longed to shout his feelings, patient when he’d wished to be bold because she needed a friend, not a man sniffing after her heels. But now these others were talking about her as if she were available.
And wasn’t she? Enough time had passed, certainly, to make any move not untoward because of Andrew. What held Cav back?
Of course he knew the answer. Fear stopped him, just as it always had. Fear of rejection. Fear of damaging a friendship he held dear. Fear of hurting her…of breaking his own heart.
He was a coward when it came to her, that was all.
His grandfather’s words a few weeks before rang in his ears as he sipped his port, that this was his last chance. Would he take it at long last? Or would this gathering end up being yet another regret on the pile of regrets when it came to Emily?
Chapter 3
Two Turtle Doves
Emily looked over her guests milling on the drive in their winter cloaks and coats. They were lucky it was a mild afternoon, perfect for what she had in mind. She counted the group in her head and then frowned. They were missing one partygoer: Cav. He’d acted very strange after the gentlemen rejoined the ladies last night. Almost like he was avoiding her.
But that couldn’t be true. Cav would not avoid her.
As if to prove the point, he