The Wedding Game(34)

This was safer. He smiled at Arabella as he lifted her into the carriage. There was no sense that she was scheming behind that pleasant face, or secretly plotting against him. He would not end the day covered in mud or locked in a closet. Today’s outing would be utterly predictable.

There was no logical reason to be disappointed at the prospect of success. Why did he need to keep reminding himself of that fact?

The little dog at his feet was gathering its miserably short legs to jump for the running board and follow its mistress. The attempt was destined for failure, so Ben scooped up the dog and dropped it into the footwell before climbing in after.

The mismatched eyes responded with a look of disapproval that was oddly familiar. He blinked to dismiss it. If he meant to retain his sanity and Lord Summoner’s good grace, he must stop thinking of Amelia and measuring one sister against the other. The decision had been made and that was that.

He gave a gentle pull on the reins and manoeuvred them out into traffic, relieved that she was not one of those women who felt the need to talk every moment they were together. Instead, she was unusually silent, staring in wonder at the passing streets as if she had never seen them before. ‘It is a lovely day, is it not?’ he said to fill the void between them.

She tilted her head towards the sky like a flower leaning towards the sun. A pretty flower. The prettiest flower in London. As he pulled the carriage into the park, he could feel a wave of envy from the people around him and faint whispers of excitement from both men and women. An introduction had finally been made between the two greatest catches of the Season.

The world thought them a handsome couple. As well they should. One had but to look at them to see they were destined for each other.

But the woman at his side seemed unaware of the people around her, still staring up into the sky as though not quite realising that there was nothing left to see. He reached out and touched the tip of her nose. ‘If you are not careful of the sun, you will spoil your complexion.’

She giggled. ‘That’s what Mellie says.’

‘Mellie?’ He stared down at the dog drooling on his Hessians.

She giggled again. ‘You are silly. Dogs don’t talk.’

‘But...’ He looked into the eyes of the dog again. ‘Do you mean Amelia?’

Belle smiled. ‘Mellie. Amy. My sister.’

‘I see.’ It was not unusual to have childhood nicknames, he supposed. But he wondered what Amy thought of sharing hers with the benighted beast resting on his shoes. ‘And did Amelia tell you why I wished to ride with you?’

‘Because you like driving?’ she said, giving no clue that she understood.

‘Because I like you,’ he said, smiling.

She smiled back. ‘Then I like you, too.’

He could imagine the caustic response he’d have got from Amy had he begun a proposal with a comment as banal as that. She had likely rejected as many men for insufficient ardour as she had for being too forward.

But he must remember, her sister was different. ‘Do you like me well enough to marry me?’ he said with a wink.

He waited for her to laugh at his impudence. Even the greenest girl would take such a comment as a joke meant to soften her for a serious discussion.

But this one frowned at him. ‘I will have to ask Mellie.’

The last thing he needed was the involvement of the sister who had been trying to sabotage this union since that first night at Almack’s. ‘On a matter as important as this, I think you need to make up your own mind.’

To this, she said nothing. Then her frown deepened and her breathing quickened as if the act of giving an opinion was pushing her near to panic. After nearly a minute of silence, she closed her eyes and clutched his hand, her grip desperately tight. ‘What does Papa want me to do?’

He slowed the vehicle and transferred the reins to one hand so he could use the other to clasp her hand in reassurance. ‘I think your father would like you to marry me.’

‘Then that must be the right thing to do.’ Her eyes flew open. ‘But...’

He waited. If she had a doubt in her mind, she had but to say so. She could ask for time to think. She could use any number of delaying tactics and he would happily wait until she was ready. She could even say no if she wanted to.

Then he would be free.

For a moment, he felt just as panicked as she did, waiting for the answer. Then she turned back to him, her face clear but vacant. Her smile was as brilliant as ever, though her eyes still held a hint of worry. ‘If Papa wants me to marry you, then that is what I should do.’ Then she fell silent again, looking out at the people riding by, as beautiful and distant as a swan in the middle of a lake.

Suddenly, his new fiancée turned to him, smile bright but worried. ‘Can I bring Mellie?’

He started. ‘Bring Mellie where?’ And did she mean the dog or the sister? He was afraid to ask for clarification.

‘When we get married and I go to my new house. Everyone says I will have to go to a new house, but no one has told me where it will be. If I bring Mellie, than I shall not be lonely.’

This time he listened, really and truly listened to her words, searching out the meaning of them. She did not say his house, nor did she describe it as a home. Listening to her question, his mind imagined a child’s drawing of a house, no more detailed than a box with windows and perhaps a chimney or two.