.
Reuben considered sitting next to Rachel like shaving himself. At first, it was painful, and with many mistakes, yet over time it was like walking or running. No thought went into it. It just was. There were no mistakes.
Last night had been a mistake. He’d been unable to resist her sweet nature, and the natural beauty that made her stand out from the rest of the ton.
And she was wrong. If he had to take anyone to his rooms, if he could…
But no. It would never work. She deserved better, far better than him. He was humbled by her obvious attachment to him, but he knew she’d regret turning to him later. She was so young. Someone had to make the best decisions for them both.
So, he would sit as close to the fire as he could, until he built up a resistance to the heat she gave off.
She relaxed, or at least tried to appear as though she were doing that, and then settled her hands on her lap. “Who would you like not to be invited to the party?”
“Lord Avon,” he said swiftly. He was Gerard’s father, Rose’s father-in-law, and the man who’d tried to keep the two apart. He was also a member of the Blue Blood Coalition, and while Rueben planned to invite a few of those men— men who would take no issue with ending a life— Reuben didn’t believe the old man involved, and the less he saw of him, the better.
Rachel nodded. “I agree. There’s no reason to have someone who may upset the party atmosphere.”
Reuben wanted to put Lord Yall and his family on the list, but since he had reason to suspect Lady Yall wishing for the king’s end, they would remain.
“Is there anyone you don’t like?” he asked, simply wishing to know her better.
She blinked a few times and wrinkled her nose in thought. She was so full of life. “The list of those I don’t like is very few. I usually enjoy people.” She smiled. They were the words of a woman who made few enemies.
He felt his lips curve at the ends. “And I’m sure they feel the same about you.”
“I don’t like the Anns. Neither does Rose. Don’t invite them,” she said.
“Their father is a good man,” Reuben reasoned. “He also supports the Home, and my presence in Society.” Tea, paper, and ink came in at that very moment.
Rachel pouted her lips. “Very well. Is there anyone else?” “She poured for them both, never asking how he took it, yet getting it right anyway. Milk and sugar.
He sipped from the cup she handed him. “The Wolfgangs.”
Rachel frowned and put her cup on the table. She reached for ink, and directed the paper her way. “You mean the Earl of Bandell and his family? Why not? While everyone has their reservations where the earl is concerned, his sons Lord Karl, and Lord Jolan, are good people. Why, they were at Wint’s party last evening.”
Reuben remembered seeing them both, and had watched the way the men’s eyes had followed Rachel around. While he was trying to stop a murder, he didn’t wish to commit one, himself. He told his needy beast that his only reservation toward the family rested with the earl. He’d been rumored to have killed his eldest brother, in order to take his seat in the House of Lords. So, while Karl and Jolan appeared as the usual sort of gentlemen, he didn’t want Rachel anywhere near that family. “I don’t want the earl at my party.”
Rachel stared at him with luminous hazel eyes, then sighed. “I want to change your mind.”
“You won’t, so there is no need to try.”
She narrowed her gaze, pointed her chin down, and stared up at him from under thick lashes. A seductive look, though he knew she didn’t know it. “Karl is nearly your age.” Her words didn’t make him feel any better.
He leaned forward. “He’s too old for you.”
Her expression changed dramatically, and she leaned away. “I… That’s not what I meant. I simply thought that by inviting him to your party, you two could strike up a friendship.” Then she lifted a brow. “Though, now I must admit I don’t agree with you. Karl is not too old for me.”
He put down his cup. “Perhaps, you’re right. How old is he?
“Thirty-two.”
He turned to her again. “And do you have anything in common with this man?” Did they both enjoy reading, and parties in the country? He knew they both grew up in the same station, which made him more qualified to be with Rachel than he, himself.
She shrugged. “Though my philosophies as a woman don’t matter, I would say we are of like minds.” Then something flickered in her eyes and she said, “We both own property.”
“Your father owns property,” Reuben said. “And when you marry, it will go to your husband.”
Her expression became haughty. “Unless I don’t marry.”
He stiffened. “Why would you not marry?”
She lifted her shoulder again. “It is always a possibility.”
Reuben did not agree with that in the least. She was far too lovely, and too good to not get married.
Rachel went on, “My father has taught me everything I would need to know, in order to run my own estate. If I don’t marry, he’s made it so I will have whatever property is not entailed to the title.”
But she would marry. She simply had to get past the broken heart.
“I could… advise you on property law if you ever need aid.”
“Thank you, but I think I can manage.” Besides, he already had Lady Jay. It still surprised him that those letters he exchanged were with a woman. He had yet to reply back. He didn’t know if he should.
She turned away, but not before he saw her smile. “Very well. We won’t invite the Wolfgangs, but I think you’re wrong to dismiss them all. I’m attending Lord Karl’s party tonight and I—”
“With who?” he asked more roughly then he’d intended.
Rachel’s eyes widened. “No one, I fear. My father was supposed to attend with me but—”
“I’ll escort you.” More parties would mean more opportunities for him to narrow down who the assassin may be.
Rachel’s eyes blazed with life as she smiled. Her happiness touched him, and left a mighty imprint on his heart. “Excellent.”
Was it wrong that he was glad he’d been the one to put that smile on her face?