“Your Grace,” someone addressed him right in front of her.
“Yes?” he asked disappointed that the moment was lost.
But then dread filled him as Ella stiffened next to him and he heard her whisper, “Your Grace?”
Lord Anthony Michaels stood in front of him. He’d never been formerly introduced to the man but he’d seen him at various gatherings. “I didn’t realize you’d be in attendance. Such a pleasure. I know you’ve long been friends with Lord Sussex but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”
His teeth gnashed together. “The pleasure is mine,” he ground out.
“And you must be Lady Eleanor.” He gave Ella a bright smile and she curtseyed in return. Lord Michaels was the fourth son of a Marquess. His income was good enough but his prospects among the elite ladies were slimmer due to simple birth order.
But the man was quite handsome. Would Ella think so? He wished he could see Ella’s face, gage her reaction to the news of his title but Michaels engaged him once again. “How do you know Lady Eleanor?”
Damn, he also hadn’t thought of a respectable answer to this question but Ella was quicker than he. “Both His Grace,” she emphasized the address, “And Lord Sussex belonged to the club that my father attended.”
“Pity about your father,” Michaels added, his look genuinely sympathetic. “His death was so ill-timed considering he planned to give you a season.”
Matthew felt her start next to him. “A season? How do you…did you know my father? Did he tell you he was planning…” Her breath was ragged as she trailed off.
Michaels reached for her hand and she slipped her palm from out of the crook of his elbow and into his grasp. Jealousy ripped at Matthew’s chest as the other man gave her hand a squeeze. “He had asked my mother to sponsor you or I wouldn’t have known myself. She’d requested to meet you, I believe, and would still very much like to. Your father spoke very highly of you grace, kindness, and charm.”
Ella looked back at him then and he saw them, the tears shimmering in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered to Michaels. Matthew made to step in then, pull her aside to collect herself, but she waved him off.
Matthew watched her straighten her spine.
“Are you all right?” Michaels asked.
“I am now. Thank you for your kind words and for sharing your memories, Lord Michaels. I appreciate it greatly.”
Michaels gave her a warm smile and as the group moved, he kept her hand and tucked it into his elbow, escorting her to the sitting room.
Matthew trailed behind Ella. He felt like a fool. Mostly because he’d lied to her but also because if he had not been so blinded by Sarah, he’d have seen earlier that she was a lovely woman—the most amazing he’d ever met really. Now Michaels was swooping in and stealing her away with all the words she wanted to hear. Blast the man.
Luke came up next to him. “What should we do about him?” he whispered. “Shall I put hot peppers in his food so he appears ill?”
A small smile graced his lips. “I like that idea. You don’t think we could make his pants fall down as he’s dancing do you?”
Luke gave a low chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Matthew scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’ve waited too long.”
“You haven’t—” Luke lifted his hand in disagreement.
“Don’t say it. I’m not an easy person to love. You know this as well as anyone. Just think of how absurd I was with you yesterday.” Matthew shook his head at his own stupidity.
Luke slapped him on the back. They trailed behind the rest of the group and Luke gave a
quick glance to make sure no one was in earshot. “You’re handsome, kind beyond measure, and a bloody duke,” he said. “If you want her, she’s yours. Don’t forget it.”
Matthew didn’t know if that was true or not. And despite Luke’s words, he couldn’t help but worry that Michaels might be a better choice. He likely had a wonderful relationship with his family. Nor did he have to find a missing sister. The Marquess probably didn’t have a woman in his past who’d scarred his heart beyond repair.
Ella looked back at him again, biting her lip as their eyes met. He tightened. But she’d already chipped away at the walls guarding his heart and now he wanted her on his arm, next to him.
The evening progressed with agonizing slowness. What made it particularly painful, was that as Matthew stepped back to watch her, he could see her perfection in startling clarity. Her kindness, beauty, grace, and poise were stunning and he’d allowed her to slip from his fingers as he watched each of the men try to gain her favor. And each basked in her attention as she turned her gaze to her potential suitors. His only hope was that she showed no favor and spent an equal amount of time with each man. Including Michaels.
It both relieved and heightened Matthew’s fear. Though she didn’t show favoritism to Michaels, any of these men could capture her interest. And they all appeared interested in her.
Why wouldn’t they be? She was now backed by a duke and duchess, and despite refusing Luke’s offer for a dowry, it wasn’t actually her choice. Luke would sign it over to the suitor who won her hand.