The Wedding Game(21)

And after the interlude at the Middletons’ house, he had an excellent suggestion for her. He closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself that she was the last person in the world he dare dally with. She could ruin his future with a single word to her father. But closed eyes only reminded him of discovering her secrets by touch when they had been shut up together in the dark.

If it been anyone else in the world, he’d have allowed himself to explore the depths of this fascination. Like the boy who longed to see fireworks, there was a part of him that could not seem to resist her. And though she might be too ladylike to admit to it, she was as eager as he was to see where another meeting might lead them.

All the more reason that he should find her a husband. He opened his eyes again, keen to dispel the fantasy with cold, hard truth. She was far too volatile for his tastes. She took far too much pleasure in tormenting him. And judging by her comments about his insufficiency, she would destroy him as a matter of principal, should she find out the truth about his past.

But a woman so warm and vibrant should not remain single. It was not just a nuisance, it was a waste. He could not abide wastefulness. How hard could it be to change her future? Her wits were quick enough and she was not unattractive. In fact, it was her exotic beauty that had first attracted his attention. If others did not see it, then her family name should have been enough to attract suitors like flies to a honey pot.

And yet, she had none. If he applied masculine logic to the situation, she would be married in no time. He would likely win the favour of Lord Summoner for taking the girl off his hands. And once she belonged to another, maybe he could stop thinking about her and return his focus to the more agreeable of the two sisters.

It was simply a matter of finding the right candidate to partner her. He glanced around the crowd, searching for a match, and found one almost immediately. Stanton Haines was walking towards him, balancing a stack of paper-wrapped ham sandwiches in his folded arms.

Ben calculated silently. Haines had a new phaeton and matched bays and a coat cut by the finest Bond street tailors. His apartments in Jermyn Street were decorated in the height of fashion. His winters were spent at his family estate, which was at least equal to the Summoner home. Ben suspected he must have close to ten thousand a year and more to come upon the death of his father.

Best of all, he was still single and claimed to be looking for a wife. In Ben’s opinion, if the search had gone on for several years, Haines was not looking hard enough. The man was clearly in need of help. He put on a welcoming smile and raised a hand in greeting. ‘Haines, old fellow.’

‘Lovell,’ his friend responded with a smile. ‘Care for a sandwich?’

‘They are all yours?’

‘There is hardly enough meat in them to make a decent meal. I thought to combine it and throw the bread to the ducks. But I could spare one.’ He eyed Ben suspiciously. ‘You always have a hungry look about you.’

If this was meant as a jibe at his ambition, Ben would let it pass. ‘Why not share with a young lady instead? Surely there is one here who would be better company than a duck.’

At this, Haines laughed and Ben put a guiding hand on his shoulder, pushing gently in the direction of the prey. ‘You are already acquainted with Miss Summoner, I suppose.’

The other man’s eyes took on the glazed expression that Ben often saw when conversation was turning to Miss Arabella. ‘I have not. She is dashed hard to meet, you know. Her family guards her like a princess in a tower.’

‘Surely not,’ Ben answered, deliberately misunderstanding. ‘I was riding with her myself, just the other day.’ He paused, waiting for the good-natured ribbing that would follow had Haines been aware of his very public fall in the mud, but it did not come.

Instead, he said, ‘You rode with her?’ There was a proper amount of awe in his companion’s voice at the achievement.

‘I will introduce you, if you like.’ He added a generous smile. ‘Perhaps she would like a sandwich.’

‘Yes. By all means, let us see if she is peckish.’ Now Haines was not so much being led as pulling in his harness, eager to go forward.

Ben shepherded him towards the pavilion where he had last seen Amelia. ‘There she is now. Miss Summoner,’ he called out, and the girl turned slowly to face him.

‘Damn.’ The legs of the man next to him locked and he dug in his heels like a stubborn mule. ‘I thought you meant... Damn.’

But it was too late for him to change direction without being unspeakably rude. Ben pressed on, forcing the man the last few feet. ‘Miss Summoner, how nice to see you again. Are you enjoying your evening?’

‘Mr Lovell,’ she said. The knowing smile she directed to him suddenly disappeared. ‘I had been enjoying it.’ The words left the clear implication that her pleasure had come to a sudden end upon seeing his companion.

‘Have you met my friend, Mr Haines?’

‘Yes.’ If her greeting to him had been chilly, her acknowledgement of the other man was positively glacial.

‘Miss Summoner,’ Haines answered, with a shallow bow, never taking his eyes from hers, like a man facing down a wild animal.

‘Mr Haines was wondering if you would care for refreshment.’ He jabbed a sharp elbow in the other man’s ribs, causing him to drop the top sandwich from the stack.

She looked down at it as if it was poison, then back up to stare at the two of them. ‘No, thank you.’