Greg watched Bella across the dimly-lit carriage and couldn’t help but wonder if the two of them would be able to pull off this entire endeavor. It would be easier, he supposed if he’d known her more than a day. She looked just as worried, as he felt. And that wouldn’t help their situation, not with her father planted next to her on the bench and not with her souse of a brother planted next to Greg.

They were about to make an official announcement about their betrothal in front of half the ton, or at least as many members of polite society as would be present at Kelfield’s, which might not be very many. But however many people were in attendance, tomorrow it would be quite known that Greg and Bella intended to wed. Greg’s stomach felt more than a little queasy at the prospect of lying to so many people and for who knew how long.

But in regards to queasiness, Greg shot his would-be brother-in-law a wary glance, hoping the man hadn’t imbibed so much over dinner that they were in danger of him casting up his accounts across the floor of the conveyance. There was, after all, only so much a fellow could take in that regard.

The coach rambled to a stop in front of Kelfield House, the lamps from inside casting a warm glow onto the stoop and walk below. The footman opened the door and Greg was quite happy to step from the conveyance. Honestly, the more distance he put between himself and Gillingham, the safer he and his wardrobe would be.

Greg offered his hand to Bella, and in the moonlight, her silvery eyes twinkled just so. The beauty of her almost took his breath away and he thought perhaps, with a bit of luck, they might be able to pull this off. Perhaps.

“Thank you,” she said softly as Greg helped her alight from the coach.

“My pleasure,” he replied and then placed her hand on his arm to lead her up the steps.

He knew her father and brother where somewhere behind them, as well as Sarsden, Lockington and their wives who’d followed in another coach, but Greg didn’t want to think about any of them. Doing so would only make him more nervous, and Bella was already trembling slightly, though he doubted anyone else noticed. He should be trying to put her at ease, but he felt far from at ease himself.

And then she glanced up at him, a beautiful smile on her lips and Greg’s mouth went a little dry. God in Heaven, she looked at him as though he was the noblest of heroes, and he wished that he was worthy of her expression. But he wasn’t noble, and he wasn’t a hero, not in the least. He wondered briefly if they could last the duration of their pretend betrothal without her ever being the wiser of that fact. And if they could, would it even be fair for her to think he was a better man than he really was?

Aylesford and Gillingham were now right on their heels as the Kelfield’s young butler ushered the lot of them inside the house and directed them toward the ballroom. Greg muttered their names for a footman at the entrance, who in turn announced the four of them quite loudly as they stepped over the threshold.

“Greg!” Olivia, the Duchess of Kelfield, appeared at his side a moment later. “Cordie said you’d be here soon. Thank you so much for coming.”

“Where else would I be?” he asked, though there were a number of places he’d rather be. Then he introduced Olivia to Bella and her family before looking out at the sea of people in attendance. A few years ago, the ballroom would have been more than sparse, but tonight it was quite filled. Was that all his sister’s doing? No, it couldn’t be. Cordie rarely left Clayworth House these days. There wasn’t any way she could be responsible for filling Olivia’s ballroom to such a level. “Where is Cordie?”

Olivia gestured across the way. “The last I saw her, she and Clayworth were keeping Tristan and Phoebe company.”

Tristan and Phoebe. The pair of them were looking directly at Greg, and his stomach twisted again. Phoebe wore the most confused expression, and Greg wasn’t certain how he was going to manage lying to his brother and sister-in-law for any amount of time, let alone weeks on end. Cordie, unfortunately, was not with them, however.

“Oh, I’m being summoned. Please do excuse me,” Olivia said as she stepped from their group. “But thank you so much for being here.”

As though Greg had been offered a choice in the matter. He glanced back toward his brother and sister-in-law, who were still staring quite pointedly at him. Damn it all. As they’d made eye contact with Greg, he couldn’t avoid going to them. Though he wished he could. He wished he could avoid the pair altogether this evening, but that wouldn’t be possible. Honestly, he should have been elated. He should be quite eager to introduce Bella to Phoebe as quickly as possible, as this pretend betrothal would keep his sister-in-law from thrusting anymore of her marriage-minded friends in his path. He should be walking on air, but—

“Oh,” Aylesford said in that soft, gentle way he said most things. “There’s Lady Staveley. I wonder if her husband is here too.”

Greg wasn’t certain he’d ever laid eyes on Lord Staveley. He could scan the room a hundred times and never know if the man was here or not. “No idea.”

“Well, I’ll go ask her,” Bella’s father said. “I found a book in the library this afternoon that I think he’d be quite interested in.”

As the marquess made his way through the crowd, a smile lit Gillingham’s face. “Do you want any ratafia, Bella?”

“No, thank you,” she replied to her brother.

“I’ll just help myself, then.” A moment later, the soused baron was off too.

And then Greg finally had Bella all to himself…well, all to himself with a crush of people crowded around them. But it might be the only moment they had with each other before nothing was the same any more. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice loud enough for only her to hear him.

Bella blinked up at him, her grey eyes so deep he could lose himself in them and never know how it happened. “Nervous. You?”

More than a little, not that he wanted to admit as much to her. “Are you sure you want to do this? You didn’t quite seem yourself at dinner.” Not that he knew her well enough to know how she was most of the time, but she didn’t seem like the girl he’d met that afternoon, in any event.

“Do you want to back out?” she looked more than panicked all of a sudden.

“No, no, no,” he rushed to assure her, taking her hands in his. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

She breathed what seemed like a sigh of relief. “I’m just a very poor actress, I think.”

Perhaps, but that didn’t answer her skittishness during dinner. “Come now,” he teased, hoping to put her a bit more at ease. “When you stare up at me like you do, I’m almost convinced you’re in love with me, and I know better.”

A blush stained her cheeks, and she would have tugged her hands from his if he hadn’t tightened his hold.

“I didn’t say that to embarrass you,” he whispered. “You just have the sweetest expression, like I’m a hero of mythical proportions.”

She smiled then. “Aren’t you?”

Greg couldn’t help but smile back. “Not even on my best day. But as long as you look at me as though I am, no one will doubt your undying love for me.”

A tiny giggle escaped Bella and her eyes crinkled at the edges. “You are—”

“Greg?”

The sound of Tristan’s voice from behind him made Greg wince slightly. Their lie was about to get bigger and there would be no coming back from it as soon as Tristan and Phoebe learned his news. He squeezed Bella’s fingers in a silent vow of support, then he glanced over his shoulder to find his brother and Phoebe standing there, both of them sporting quizzical expressions.

“Tris, Phoebe.” He feigned a smile for the pair.

Tristan cleared his throat and glanced in Bella’s direction. A not so subtle hint.

“Tristan, you remember Lady Arabella?” Greg began.

Phoebe’s brow scrunched up at that as she cast her husband a sidelong glance.

“Yes, of course.” His brother’s gaze retuned to Bella. “How are you this evening, my lady?”

“Wonderful. Thank you, Lieutenant. So nice to see you again.”

Phoebe looked as though she was going to throttle someone if they didn’t clue her into what was going on. Greg bit back a smile. He probably shouldn’t have enjoyed her frustration so much, but he wasn’t a hero of mythical proportions, and Phoebe had annoyed the devil out of him over the last few weeks. Turn about was fair play. But he couldn’t hold his sister-in-law off forever. “Mrs. Avery, this is Lady Arabella Winslett.”

“A pleasure,” Bella said softly.

“Yes, so nice to meet you.” Phoebe flashed another questioning expression at Greg, then her brow furrowed further. “Arabella Winslett? Why does that sound so familiar?”

“We have a friend in common,” Bella replied. “Felicity Pierce.”

Light dawned in Phoebe’s eyes and then a genuine smile spread across her face. “Yes! Lissy. That is where I know you from. A shame she’s been called to Derbyshire, isn’t it?”

“She’s been called to Derbyshire?” Bella frowned slightly.

“Safer for her there than here,” Tristan muttered under his breath, but they all heard him.

Bella trained her gaze on Greg’s brother. “Safer?”

A look of chagrin settled on Tristan’s face. “Apologies. I shouldn’t have said that.”

But his words didn’t seem to put Bella at ease in the least and her frown deepened. “What did you mean? Is Lissy unsafe?”

“Pay him no mind.” Phoebe heaved a sigh. “He means she’ll be safer from Lord Haversham at Prestwick Chase than she would be here in Town.”

“The degenerate,” Tristan added.

“Regardless.” Phoebe tipped her nose slightly in the air. “I feel confident Lissy can take care of herself whether she’s in London or in Derbyshire…and is in no need of assistance from any particular politicians in that regard.”

A ghost of a smile lit Tristan’s lips. “Very likely,” he agreed. “However, I do like the way Carraway dealt with that particular problem, so I hope he doesn’t change his tactics.”

Greg grunted in agreement. If the politician decided to blacken Haversham’s other eye, he would find the entire thing rather fitting.

“My favorite moment of the entire season thus far,” Tristan added with a grin.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Interesting, the two of you never seem to say such things whenever Cordie is within earshot. You wait until I’m outnumbered.”

“Poor Phoebe.”

“Where is Cordie?” Greg asked. His sister was the one who had put this little betrothal plot together, after all.

“She was whispering something in Kelfield’s ear a while ago,” Phoebe replied. “The whole thing seemed very mysterious, to be honest.”

“Speaking of degenerates,” Tristan mumbled.

Greg bit back a smile as Phoebe playfully smacked her husband’s chest. “Do not start. Livvie is perfectly happy with him, Tristan Avery.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not a degenerate.”

“You are in the man’s house.”

“Out of my childhood loyalty to his wife.”

As in love as Phoebe and Tristan were, the two of them could argue until they were both blue in the face. Greg suspected their bickering only served to heighten their passion in the bedchambers. But he wasn’t keen to hear another round of their quarreling and was relieved when the first chords of a waltz began. Finally, he and Bella could escape his relations.

“Ah.” He squeezed her hand. “Our dance, I believe.”