Chapter 11

11

T he next week flew by for Carver, and every second of it was filled with her.

With Meg.

His Meg, as he'd come to think of her—rightfully or not.

He'd had the pleasure of seeing Meg once more in that time, and in the days between, he'd thought of nothing else.

Namely, he plotted how he might make her smile even more. How he could tease out that laugh that made his heart soar.

Their second rendezvous had been a quiet visit over tea, with her mother hovering nearby, interjecting occasionally, and fawning over Carver far too much for his liking.

There'd also been a noticeable dampening of Meg's good spirits. She'd still been pleasant, of course, and had seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

But her smiles had been strained and her laughter subdued, and that, he discovered…was intolerable.

So these past few days, in addition to pestering his aunt to ensure that Meg would definitely be in attendance this evening, he also thought of all the ways he might make this evening a success for her.

Indeed, it was the hope of hearing that laugh and seeing that smile that had made him hurry out the door for tonight's soiree—hosted by his own Aunt Evie, and with the assurance that Meg had not only been invited, but that she'd accepted.

A smile tugged at his lips before he even set foot in the home he knew so well.

Kal was the first to greet him. As the host of this evening's festivities, he did his duty well, greeting each new arrival by name.

No one could fault Kal for his manners. Even if he did endure the evening with his usual cynicism and wry humor.

"Is she here yet?" Carver asked Kal before he'd even said hello.

"Not yet." Kal arched a brow. "And do try to recall that you're supposed to be pretending to play the part of the besotted fool."

Carver ignored that. "What about the others?"

Kal nodded toward the parlor. "Albright's here. Rodrick too. Seems Franny is visiting a relative this evening, so the poor chap is forced to spend time with his friends for once."

Carver chuckled. They'd been roasting Rodrick for being so blindly in love with his financée for ages now. But tonight, Carver didn't feel so much humor at the other man's plight as he did…sympathy.

To think, Rodrick had spent years pining after Franny. Even after they'd formed an arrangement, the young lord had believed it merely a marriage of convenience on her part.

It was only recently that the two cleared up any misunderstandings about their feelings and finally faced the fact that they were both well and truly smitten with one another.

Carver straightened his cravat, nodding to an acquaintance or two as he followed Kal into the parlor where his friends were gathered.

"So you've agreed to share Franny at last," Carver joked when he greeted Rodrick. "Her family must be so pleased that you've finally let her out of your sights."

Well used to the ribbing, Rodrick ducked his head with a smile. "Not willingly, I'll admit. But it's been pressed upon me that it's not attractive to be so doting."

"Franny said that?" Albright asked in surprise.

"No. My mother." Rodrick's wince was good natured. "But, fortunately for me, our families have agreed to move the wedding forward. So we won't be apart for much longer."

"That is good news," Albright said with a grin.

His felicitations were not surprising. Albright had always been eager to marry—hence his quick engagement nearly the moment he was of age.

What was far more surprising was Kal's nod of encouragement. "Well done, Rodrick."

Carver arched his brows and exchanged an amused look with Albright at Kal's expense. But Rodrick changed the topic before either could comment on Kal's uncharacteristically optimistic take on an upcoming wedding.

"I hear you may be next to marry," Rodrick said to Carver, laughter making his eyes glint.

Carver winced. He supposed he deserved some teasing. His gaze trailed over the crowd that was rapidly filling this small room, and he turned to Kal. "Where is she? Your mother said she'd be here."

"It's still early, Romeo," Rodrick said. "If Miss Taylor has agreed to attend this evening, then I'm sure she will be here."

Carver turned to Rodrick. "Did Franny say she'd be here?"

Rodrick's brows arched in surprise. "I haven't spoken to her today. She's already left with her mother to visit family."

"What about her sister?" Kal asked.

Carver and the other two turned to him in surprise.

Kal looked as cool as ever, but Carver's eyes narrowed on his cousin. There was something about his nonchalance that felt a bit…off. Forced, even.

Rodrick's eyes widened slightly. "Pardon?"

"Franny's sister," Kal clarified. "The girl with the auburn hair. I thought I saw her earlier. She's a friend of Miss Taylor's, is she not? She'd know if Carver's young lady will be here tonight."

Carver's young lady.

Carver's heart leapt. Oh, he liked that moniker far too much. But Carver glanced at Albright, who was watching Kal closely as well.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who thought Kal was acting oddly.

Rodrick nodded eagerly. "Ann? Yes, you're right. Ann is a close friend of Miss Taylor's. In fact…"

Rodrick's gaze grew sly as he slid an amused look in Carver's direction. "They're so close that Ann is well aware of your plan, Your Grace. She told Franny all about it, too. And I must warn you, my beloved fiancée will be watching you closely to ensure you don't hurt that girl again—intentionally or not."

The Your Grace only made it that much clearer that he was being mocked. His friend's were only ever deferential when they were in jest.

"Miss Taylor told her friends of your true intentions," Albright mused. "That's interesting."

Carver lifted a shoulder, feigning indifference, but really…he was wondering how to ask all the questions that filled his head. What exactly did she say? How does she feel about it? What did she say about me?

But his friends would only pounce if he gave in to the urge to pry. So he feigned indifference as he shrugged. "Who Miss Taylor confides in is her concern, not mine."

"Yes, well, the point is, Miss Ann is a dear friend to your Miss Taylor," Kal said to Carver. "So perhaps we should ask her about Miss Taylor's whereabouts this evening."

Albright cut in. "That won't be necessary." He nodded toward the doorway. "There she is now."

Carver was already grinning as he turned, excitement and anticipation making his heart surge up to his throat, as he prepared to head in that direction, until?—

He stopped.

"What's this?" Kal murmured, amusement tingeing his low voice.

"Seems your plan is working already," Rodrick said.

And yes. He too sounded amused.

His blasted friends were laughing at him, but Carver could only stand there and watch as a young gentleman fawned over his Meg.

"Who is that?" he demanded.

Meg had her arm linked through his and was smiling at something he said as the other man led her into the room, walking at a snail's pace, and bending over her slightly as though he were taking care of her or…

Oh blast.

As though he were doting on her.

"Who is he?" Carver asked again, turning his scowl on his friends. "I don't recognize him."

"Mmm, I've met him before," Kal said. His expression was thoughtful as he followed Carver's stare. "Mr. Everson, I believe. He's a close friend to the Earl of Marlin."

For some reason this information irked Carver.

He liked the Earl of Marlin. The fellow was engaged to Meg's quiet friend Jane, and older than he and Kal by nearly a decade. But he was a distant relative of Kal's, and despite the shared dry humor and sharp, sometimes stinging wit, he was, at heart, a decent fellow, by all accounts.

And it stood to reason that he kept decent friends. Which meant…

He swallowed hard as he heard Meg's laughter, soft and sweet, but it cut through the chatter of the crowd as surely as a bell.

"I'd heard Everson's in the market for a wife," Kal added.

Carver's entire body seemed to heat and freeze at once as he watched Meg smile up at the young man. Without thinking about what he'd say or what he meant to do, he took a step toward them.

Albright's hand on his shoulder had him turning to face his friend. He gave a quick shake of his head. "Leave her be."

Carver's brows drew down and he went to protest, but this time it was Kal who interrupted with a quiet, "This was what you wanted, if you'll recall."

He opened his mouth and then shut it again promptly. Was it? No. It was never what he'd wanted. He wanted Meg to choose him.

"Options," Albright added. "You're giving the girl options."

Blast.

His protests died as his shoulders sagged.

This time it was Kal who clapped him on the shoulder. "It's not easy being a noble hero, is it?"

"What would you know about being a hero?" he shot back.

"Nothing. Obviously. But should I ever wish to win a woman's heart, I'm taking notes…" Kal said. "Of what not to do."

Carver ignored the others' laughter. His gaze followed Meg, who hadn't even seemed to notice his presence as she let the dandy with the smarmy smile lead her toward the parlor, still hovering over her like she was an elderly aunt or an invalid who couldn't stand on her own.

Was it his imagination or was her smile growing strained as Mr. Everson led her from one cluster of friends to another. All the while he was bent over her, making it clear she was the center of his attention.

Carver scrubbed the back of his neck. A hero, Kal had called him.

He'd spent years trying to be just that. A good man. The sort of gentleman his peers looked up to. He'd wanted to change the reputation of his family's title. From cruel to kind. From bad to…well, good.

But being good?

It felt very, very bad.