The prig deserved no less.
* * *
Logan knewSutton Howard was in attendance the moment he'd stepped in the ballroom. She drew him still, after all these years. No matter how much he flirted and fucked his way through London, always she was there.
A wallflower now. Beautiful and untouchable as ever. He'd made her that way. Had broken her heart and then fled like the coward he was.
Until now.
Now he was back.
But not for her.
He leaned close to Lady Fiona, a woman any man would be glad to marry and bed. She was worth a fortune and had connections to The Crown, but he flirted and teased the pretty young chit for one reason and one reason only.
Sutton Howard was watching him.
He could feel her blue-eyed gaze like a caress down his back. Should he turn and look, he knew he would catch her observing them. He would not give her the pleasure of knowing he was thinking of her too. She had lost that right six years ago when he had taken the fall that devastated her. If only she had believed him instead of those closest to her. Their life now could have been so much different. So much better.
He threw back his head, laughing at Lady Fiona's statement, words he had already forgotten. To play this game was necessary if he were to survive being back in London. Survive being back at balls and parties with Sutton present. He had to be someone he was not.
Damn the woman and damn his heart for wanting her still. After all the wrongs she laid at his feet, the remembrance of their one night together still haunted him to this day. No matter how many times he tried to rut the memory away, it would not dissipate.
Her sweet gasps, her eager kisses made his cock stir, and he forced the memory aside. The last complication he required was a matron of thetonnoticing his cockstand and demanding he make an offer to a lady not of his choice.
This year he would pick his countess and enjoy every moment of flaunting his new bride before Sutton Howard's pretty face. In hopes it would prick her heart the way she had wounded his. Nay, wounded was too tame. She had gutted him. Petty of him, but he would take revenge where he could. Damn it. He had vowed to ignore her, and he was once again falling into that fatal trap. Thinking about her too damn much. The fickle, pigheaded woman who had not believed him when he needed her to.
Chapter 2
Sutton stood behind an old bookcase in Hatchards and read through the chapter of herWallflower’s Guide to Becoming a Brideon how to catch a man's attention without being desperate in appearance. A fine subject to read upon, for she had been termed incautious a time or two in her six years treading the boards in London, trying to find a husband.
Her brother rarely came to town these days, and so she relied on her aging aunt to escort her about. She really ought to hire a companion who would act as a chaperone, for her aunt hated London as much as Sutton loathed her first Season.
A lady should never offer herself to the opposite sex until her wedding night, or should she?
Sutton harrumphed and pushed a lock of her brown hair aside as she studied the words. She had already followed that rule in the guide, not that anyone other than Lord Jersey knew, but it had not helped her gain a husband. She frowned down at the words. For all his wrongdoings against her, he would never tell anyone of what they had done. So nothing was stopping her from acting like the proper lady who had no knowledge of what happened in the marriage bed. It was only in her own imaginings that people judged her. Or so her aunt had said numerous times.
Was she right? Was she building a wall about her heart to keep herself safe from injury? The laughter, the repeating of her own written words thrown in her face night after night, would haunt her forever. But if she were to marry, to have a family of her own, she had to move past old hurts. Put the disastrous Season behind her and step into her future.
She read on.When decidedly on the shelf, a lady must sometimes take matters into her own hands and throw rules aside and do what one must to gain a husband.
Sutton raised her brows. Well, what did that mean? Was the guide giving her permission to misbehave? She pursed her lips in thought before the sound of another patron talking nearby caught her attention. Sutton slammed the book closed and quickly slid it back under the bookcase just as a couple passed her farther down the aisle. Sutton left the store, walking back to Hanover Square with determined strides, her maid hard on her heels.One must take one's life into her own hands if one were to gain a husband.
Which would mean she had to be determined and go after what she wanted. She stopped on the footpath in thought. Did she like any gentleman enough for her to behave in such a way? To act instead of waiting for the gentleman to always come to her?
Sutton started off again, stepping around a large gentleman before slamming directly into a wall of muscle. She stumbled back, her footing beyond redemption before she landed with anoomphon the flagstone path. "Oww," she complained, stopping herself from rolling a little and rubbing her behind in a most unladylike way. She glanced up, about to give a set down to the oaf who had run into her before the words dried up in her mouth. The horrified sight of Lord Jersey met her eyes. Logan Carleton. Of course, it was him she had slammed into. No one else would get in her way like that man did.
Ass that he was.
"Sutton," he said, before seeming to remember himself and that he could not call her by her first name anymore. He held out his hand to assist. "Miss Howard. I do beg your pardon. I was not watching where I was going."
She reluctantly took his hand, stepping away from him as she regained her footing, composing her features as she fussed with her gown, pretending to check it was all as it should be. She cast a glance about the thoroughfare, relieved that few saw her fall. This year, the last issue she needed was a rumor of her falling down in the street like some drunken lout and before his lordship’s feet.
"You are not injured, I hope," he said.
She scoffed and then realized she'd mocked aloud. She met his lordship's shocked visage and reminded herself the man before her did not deserve her respect. Her scoff, in this instance, was perfectly acceptable.
"I am well. Take care where you are walking, my lord. I do not wish to run into you again," she said, slipping past him.