Chapter 15

15

C arver's aunt nudged him. Hard.

"Oof," he grunted.

"Stop craning your neck like that," his aunt muttered. Somehow, despite her low tone, he could still make her out clearly even with the music coming from the ballroom and the loud laughter echoing off the halls of the foyer. "Your fiancée will be along at any moment. You'll have plenty of time to gawk at her then."

"You'll have a lifetime to gawk at her soon enough," Kal added.

When Carver shot him a sidelong glare, Kal cracked a small smile.

His friend had been nothing but delighted since he'd heard about the turn his visit had taken the week before.

"Good," he'd declared. "Best to put that silly charade to rest anyhow."

No amount of Carver's explanations could convince his cousin that this forced match was anything short of spectacular.

He was under the assumption—as most seemed to be—that Meg was just as smitten with him as he was of her.

But Kal ought to know better. He knew of the ruse. And in an act of kindness Carver hadn't expected from his cousin—he'd even resisted the urge to point out that he'd called out this very danger from day one.

But Carver didn't need to hear "I told you so" and it seemed Kal had undergone a change of heart.

"I thought you were worried about Meg being trapped just as I was," he said now as his aunt's attention was called away.

He and Kal had relative privacy as they stood out of the way of the guests filing into the Anderson's large hall.

"That was before," Kal said unhelpfully.

"Before what?"

"Before I realized she's in love with you too, you ninny."

Carver sighed. "How many times do I have to explain it to you and the others? We were pretending?—"

"You told yourselves you were pretending, perhaps." Kal arched a brow. "But anyone with eyes could see that you were jealous of her and Mr. Everson?—"

"Yes, but?—"

"And that she was more than just relieved when you intervened."

Kal had spoken louder to override his protests, and Carver blinked at him now. "Really?"

Was that true? All he could recall of that night was his own jealousy. Not to mention his own admission that he'd been jealous.

He'd been certain that he'd given himself away entirely.

So she must know how he felt.

Mustn't she?

"There she is now," Kal said.

Carver's head snapped up, but he only barely caught a glimpse of her brown curls as Meg followed her parents into the hall—and then on into the parlor.

"Try not to make a scene, Carver," his aunt said mildly the moment he took a step in Meg's direction. "You two are to be married now. Which means it's rather tasteless to act the besotted fool, don't you think?"

"Thank you for your sage advice, Aunt," he said drily.

Her lips curved up in an impish grin. "I'm not saying don't go to her. Just…don't trample anyone in the process, hmm?"

Kal clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the parlor. "I'll do my best to keep him from doing anything utterly foolish."

"You can try, dear," his mother called after them. "But love has a way of making us all ridiculous."

Carver did his best to be patient. He didn't want to make Meg any more uncomfortable than he already had.

Can you do much worse than forcing the poor girl to marry you?

No. Likely not.

But he could try not to embarrass her as well. So he bided his time, greeting Albright when he passed, and then Rodrick and Franny.

He was waiting for his moment. But every time he risked a glance in Meg's direction, she was in the midst of conversation with someone. Her parents flanked her on either side, and she seemed to be the center of attention with every guest who came to pay their respects to her father.

After his friends had moved on, Carver was startled by the arrival of one of Meg's friends.

Franny's sister Ann suddenly appeared at his side, fitting neatly in the small space between him and Kal.

"Good evening Your Grace, m-my lord." She had her chin held high, but there was a tension about her as if she'd instantly regretted her decision to approach.

Carver found his manners first. "Miss Ann, how do you do?"

Kal said nothing, but his gaze was fixed on the girl. Ann didn't miss it either if her blush and sidelong glance in Kal's direction were anything to go by.

"Can I help you, Miss Ann?" Carver asked, hoping to break the tension that his too-serious cousin was making worse.

"D-do you…" She stopped and wet her lips. Then she drew in a deep breath. "Do you wish to marry my friend?"

He blinked, once. Twice. As he gaped down at the adorable little redhead, he felt like an ogre.

A naked ogre.

He had the unnerving sensation she was seeing straight through him.

"Because I think you do," she said bluntly.

Yes. Clearly she saw right through him.

And despite the quietness of her voice, and the stammering which he knew she was teased for…there was a strength to her tone that had him straightening as if he were being confronted by a general.

He glanced at Kal to see if he noticed it too, and found that Kal was still staring at Ann, now with a fixed intensity that startled him.

But Ann ignored his stare and focused on Carver instead. "If you do…wish to m-marry Meg, that is…"

He found himself waiting to hear the rest of what she had to say with baited breath.

"Then tell her so," she finally said after a long pause. Belatedly, she added, "Please." And then, "Your Grace."

Kal's lips were twitching with barely restrained mirth as he turned to Carver. "You heard the girl. Go tell her how you feel before you make even more of a mess than you already have."

Ann's eyes widened with surprise but she muttered an excuse he couldn't quite make out and then…

She ran.

And Kal's gaze followed her until she disappeared into the crowd.

"Does that mean…" Carver started.

He had to stop to catch his breath because hope filled his veins with a fizzy feeling like he'd just downed a bottle of champagne. "Does she want…"

Even if he could have finished that thought, he wouldn't have. Kal's glare was far too frightening. "That's a matter you ought to discuss with your intended, don't you think?"

Carver nodded, his feet already carrying him toward the parlor where he'd last seen Meg with her family.

He found her, looking so dazzlingly beautiful, he forgot how to breathe, how to speak…

How to do anything more than gape at her for far too long.

A fact her parents realized before Meg even looked his way.

"Aw, there he is now," her father said.

And to Carver's horror, the other man stepped directly in front of Meg, blocking her from view, so he could greet Carver with a handshake as his friends looked on in approval.

"I was just telling these men how glad we are to welcome you to our family."

Carver still couldn't see Meg and that was unbearable.

He ignored the hand offered to him. "If you'll excuse me. I was hoping to claim this next dance…" He had to crane his neck once more, leaning to the side to find Meg. Her father shifted, and then jerked back as if surprised to find his daughter behind him.

"Oh. Yes. I suppose?—"

Carver didn't wait for him to finish. He held a hand out to Meg. Her eyes sparkled with emotions he couldn't name but she slid her hand into his, and they left her surprised parents and their friends behind.

Luckily, a reel was coming to an end as they approached, and when they entered the ballroom, all eyes turned in their direction as a waltz began to play.

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Meg murmured.

"I'm certain I want a moment of privacy, and this seemed like the best way to get it."

He looked down and was heartened to see a smile curving her lips. "Perhaps you could try and look a little less grim," she said sweetly. "There are many eyes on us, and I'm afraid it seems as though I'm leading you to the gallows."

He choked on a laugh.

Only Meg could make him laugh at a time like this.

"That's better." Her smile widened a bit. But he didn't miss the wariness in her eyes just before she glanced away. "Now…" She turned to him as he took her in his arms. "Try not to think about your feet. Just focus on the music, and…" She hesitated just as the first chords played. "And me."

Focus on Meg.

That he could do.

And indeed, for a little while they moved together in some semblance of grace…

Until he misstepped

And then her leg seemed to give way and she stumbled. He caught her though, and she gave him a grateful smile as they fell back into step with the others.

"Well, I don't believe we'll be winning any awards for our dancing," she murmured as they passed a couple whispering so loudly, Carver heard both their names spoken plainly. "But I don't think we're giving anyone any reason to laugh either."

She gave him a small encouraging smile, and he felt like the worst sort of fool. He didn't want to discuss dancing.

And while he loved having her in his arms, he couldn't bring her back to her parents until he said the words that were clawing at his insides.

"...cannot believe they're engaged," one of the dancers said nearby. So loudly he was certain she was hoping to be overheard.

And for a moment he felt an odd pang of gratitude toward that gossip.

Engaged .

Yes. They were engaged, which meant…he could steal her away whenever he chose. It would be expected.

"After this dance, will you step outside with me?" he asked.

Her cheeks were flushed. "I'd welcome the cool air."

"Is it so humiliating to be a partner to my terrible dancing?" He'd meant it to be teasing, but he truly did feel like a clumsy simpleton as he moved them with jerky movements toward the veranda.

"No," she said quietly. "It's humiliating to know that everyone around us pities you for being a partner to me."

His insides came apart at the pain in her eyes.

He leaned down close. "Then they are fools, each and every one of them."

Her brows hitched slightly, and then…finally, the music came to an end. She sighed as she took a limping step backwards. He caught her before she could lose her balance.

He was starting to understand the signs now. He'd been watching her so closely for so long, he could see when she grew tired.

With a hand at her back, he led them to the veranda.