Matthew slowly fisted his hands. “Good evening, Lady Jennette.”
“Lord Blackburn,” she replied with a nod. “However did you get invited here?”
He whipped around to face her directly. “What do you mean? You arranged this, not me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “No, I had nothing to do with your being here.”
“Then…how?”
She shrugged and smiled as if trying not to laugh. “Maybe Lady Cantwell is after another husband.”
“Do be quiet,” he whispered. He glanced at her burgundy-velvet gown and wondered if it was part of the collection she had bought today. “Fetching dress, by the way.”
“Thank you. I do hope no one notices that it is last year’s style.”
“I’m quite certain no one but you would notice such a thing.” Try as he did, he couldn’t keep the bitter tone out of his voice.
“Then you really do not understand women, my lord.”
“Of course I do.” He took a sip of his sherry before continuing, “God forbid you wear a gown more than once. Heavens, someone might remark about it!”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “You pompous, arrogant…man.”
“Spoiled, little b—”
“Well now,” Lady Selby came up to them both. “I do believe I need to speak with you, Jennette.”
Jennette’s eyes flashed at him. “Avis, I think we can talk later. You are interrupting my conversation with Lord Blackburn.”
Lady Selby smiled at both of them as she hooked her arm with Jennette. “Yes, I am, before you two cause a bigger scene than you already have.”
“Oh, please, Avis. How many times did I break you and Banning apart from your arguments?”
Lady Selby’s lips twitched in obvious humor. “Yes, you did, many times. And see how we ended.”
Lady Selby looked over at Matthew with a little smirk. Oh dear God, he thought. The woman probably thinks he and Jennette were arguing because of deep-seated desire for each other. Complete and utter nonsense, he thought. After seeing Jennette’s true colors today, he would squash down any ardent feeling he might have for her.
The only thing he needed Jennette to do was find him a bride. Any woman would be a better option than the frivolous, self-absorbed woman walking away from him.
Jennette stood next to the potted palm with her arms over her chest in what she knew was a very un-ladylike posture. And she did not care. She wasn’t spoiled.
“Lady Jennette, please at least try to look like you are enjoying my party.”
“I apologize, Lady Cantwell.”
The older woman leaned on her cane and then scanned the room until her gaze landed on Matthew. “He is a—”
“Pompous, overbearing, arrogant—”
Lady Cantwell’s cackle interrupted her tirade. “I was about to say a handsome devil. Handsome not in a pretty way, but with an air of danger about him. He reminds me a little of my third husband. Now he was a man….”
“Lord Blackburn? Hardly. His hair is highly un-fashionable. He could almost put it in a queue. His clothes are wrinkled and at least two years out of date.”
“Lady Jennette,” Lady Cantwell started, “I do believe Lord Blackburn should escort you into the dining room.”
Jennette’s mouth gaped open. “I—I—”
“I am the hostess of this little gathering.”