“I think you’ve met most of the men of the ton already.” Lady Bursbury tapped her fan to her palm repeatedly as her gaze skimmed the room. “I’ve had someone in mind for you for quite a while but have been waiting until just the right moment.”
Excitement lit within Sophia. Hope.
Her aunt gave up searching the room and whispered, “Lord Kendal.”
Sophia held herself upright to keep from wilting at the declaration.
She must not have been very convincing, as Lady Bursbury gave a little pout. “What is it? Have you decided against him already?”
“Well, he’s a far cry better than Mr. Mongerton, but all he ever does is talk amongst the men and he never bothers to dance. He’s so very…” Sophia glanced around them as she spoke to confirm he was not nearby. “Bor—”
She’d been on the tip of saying “boring” when her eyes locked with the dark gaze of a tall, lean man just behind them.
Lord Kendal.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Lady Bursbury said, oblivious of his proximity. “He’s hardly boring.”
He gave Sophia a small tight smile, which she tried to return as best she could.
“I’ll go find him now and speak to him.” Lady Bursbury slapped her fan in her palm one final time with determination.
Lord Kendal gave a small bow and backed away from them, disappearing into the crush of people. This time Sophia didn’t bother to protest. There was no point when it was obvious there was no discouraging Aunt Nancy.
Not that any of it would do any good, regardless. Sophia knew her father well enough to be keenly aware he would not be swayed into changing his mind.
Short of fleeing England, there would be nothing for it but to marry Mongerton. And while fleeing England did hold great appeal, what was she to do if she did leave? She would require lodging, money, a way to generate an income.
What she needed was a miracle. Or an excellent idea.
2
In addition to unfeeling, Kendal had been called many other things over the years. A rogue. A thief. An ingrate. Mostly by his mother.
But never had he been called “boring”.
A hint of a smile pulled at his lips.
If only Lady Sophia knew…
A bustle of movement caught his attention. Rich blue silk with a set of eyes to match, long red curls and an overly pleased smile. He took a step back from Lady Bursbury’s path, but his back touched the wall behind him. His stomach tugged a little lower with dread.
There was nowhere else to go.
Not with her fixing him with an unwavering focus.
Bloody hell.
“Lord Kendal,” she said with obvious delight. “What a joy to see you here.”
“Indeed,” he offered dryly.
A glance around the room revealed several opportunities for escape. There was the Duke of Stedton and Lord Hesterton chatting together. Lord Morrey was standing alone, which was as dangerous a situation as the one Kendal now found himself in. And Lord Oakhurst, who had long since removed his golden “W” pin after his marriage to Lady Bursbury’s eldest daughter and his voluntary resignation from the Wicked Earls’ Club, was with his wife and would offer no reprieve.
There was nothing for it, Kendal would have to allow Lady Bursbury to engage him in whatever scheme was afoot.
“There is no escape,” she said pleasantly.
“I’m well aware.”
She batted her eyes. “I’m sure you recall our previous conversations about Lady Sophia Stopford, my lovely young niece.”
How could he forget when she’d approached him regularly since Lady Sophia’s coming out?
“Indeed,” he replied coolly.
Nancy studied her fan. “As it were, she is currently in need of a suitor.”
His gaze wandered toward a small crowd of men surrounding Lady Sophia. “I believe she is hardly in need.”
“Well, ‘in need’ being that she hasn’t found the right one.”
“Please don’t tell me you still think I am.” He narrowed his eyes at her, assessing how much she knew of his involvement with Lord Gullsville. That would explain her persistence on this matter. But would the man truly have confessed his dire financial straits to Lady Bursbury? Though she was his sister-in-law through marriage, surely he wouldn’t—
“Yes, of course, you are the man I think would suit her.” Lady Bursbury snapped her wrist delicately, and a blue silk fan unfurled. “I’m so glad we’re of the same mind after all this time.” She waved it before her face, sending her red curls billowing backward.
“We aren’t.” He squared his shoulders so she would see, as well as hear, his determination. “I have no intention to wed.”
Lady Bursbury stopped mid-fan and blinked up at Kendal. “But you’re an earl.”
“With a reputation that I doubt you want your niece associated with.”
Lady Bursbury gave a playful roll of her eyes. “You’re a better man than all that. You don’t have me fooled, and you know as well as I do that marriage is inevitable for any titled noble.” Her fan snapped closed, and she tapped him lightly on the forearm with it. “Simply keep her in mind is all I ask. You can’t deny she’s beautiful.”
With that, she sailed away, leaving those last words in his mind as she no doubt was off to make some other chap miserable with her matchmaking schemes. Kendal nearly breathed a sigh of relief, except Lady Sophia made her way toward him with the same determined stride as her aunt.
Heaven help him.
Lady Bursbury had not been wrong when she’d said he couldn’t deny her niece’s beauty. With wide blue eyes and a ready smile revealing her straight, white teeth, Sophia was absolutely lovely.
Sophia stopped in front of him, tilted her head and gave a little laugh. “You look as though you fear I might hit you on the head and drag you off to a chapel.”
He offered a tight smile. “That’s how it works, isn’t it?”
She laughed again.
Evidently, he was not that boring if he could elicit not one laugh from her, but two. Not that he cared. Because he didn’t.
“I should like to apologize for my aunt.” Candlelight played off Lady Sophia’s honey-colored hair as she spoke. The style was not as elaborate as she usually wore it. Likewise, her gown appeared equally as simple. Absent such frippery, her own natural beauty was able to shine through.
“It’s hardly the first time she’s approached me.” He slid her an intentional stare. “You needn’t worry that you cause offense when it comes to men who are boring.”
Her cheeks colored with a pretty blush. “I’m terribly sorry. I only meant you don’t dance or flirt.” She grimaced somewhat, albeit in a delicate, ladylike fashion, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere but there at that moment. “You aren’t boring if one listens to gossip.”
He bit back a smile at her apparent discomfort. Because he did dance. And he did flirt. He just hadn’t cause to do either in some time.
“Gossip?” He lifted a brow. “Pray, tell me what do they say about me.”
Her gaze flitted to the gold “W” nestled in the center of his cream-colored cravat. She licked her lips, an innocent and unintentional slow tease of her tongue. “That you’re wicked.”