“Managing how? Try as I might, I don’t recall you speaking to a female that evening.” Rodgers narrowed his eyes.
“She dressed me down for what she calls my grumpy attitude. Then she attempted to tell me that my outlook was flawed, and that everything would improve if I changed my thinking.” Not to mention she was a rather pleasing eyeful.
“I’m sorry I missed that.” Rodgers took both Finn’s feet in his hands and moved them to mimic marching. “Do you intend to call on her, or see her socially again?”
Did he? “Call on her? Decidedly not, for that would assume an interest I don’t have. I can’t do anything about society. If she’s at an event I am, so be it.”
When Wellington decided to snag a claw in the towel and tugged, the scrape of the fabric over his shaft caused a bit of hardening.
“Stop,” he hissed at the cat as he replaced the towel. Too damned bad he couldn’t have such a reaction when looking at Jane.
“Ah.” The valet continued the exercise in silence. Finally, he said, “Do you attend the Primrose rout with the dowager tonight?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.” Finn frowned. “Why?”
Rodgers shrugged. “Lady Jane might be there. If you went and struck up a conversation with her, perhaps you could better judge whether you’d like to call on her in the future.”
“Please don’t say you’re playing matchmaker.” Why the devil did everyone in his life wish to see him wed? Having a wife underfoot wouldn’t take away his demons.
“Of course not, sir.” The ghost of a grin tugged at Rodgers’ mouth. “However—”
“Oh, God,” Finn muttered and rolled his eyes.
“Is she the model for the heroine in your novel?”
He blew out a breath, for each evening Finn read aloud from his writings for Rodgers’ feedback and input. “Perhaps.”
“Then don’t you owe it to the story to further your research? If that’s the only reason you can find to attend the rout, it would be well worth the headache.”
“This is true.” He stretched out his arms again. Wellington immediately pounced, and he spent the next several seconds pretending his hand was a spider for her to play with. “That being said, you might press my light blue waistcoat…”
*
Later that evening
Remarkably, Finn’s nervesdidn’t plague him as he wheeled himself into the large, elegantly appointed drawing room done in gilt and sage green. The Mayfair home belonged to an earl who apparently didn’t care that his lavish tastes had nearly run to ostentatious. The low ebb and flow of conversation filled the room. A footman in dark clothes circulated and offered the guests flutes of champagne. From somewhere down the hall and removed from the drawing room, the faint clink of coin and masculine laughter drifted. Obviously, gaming was in full force this night.
And perched on a low sofa with a scalloped wooden back was Lady Jane, chatting happily with a blonde man who resembled a damned Adonis in the candlelight. God, she was gorgeous tonight, clad in a gown of navy satin trimmed with seed pearls and tiny clear glass beads around the hem and bodice. Diamonds sparkled in her upswept Titian hair and around one of her gloved wrists, but around her neck, a thin golden chain sparkled. A small cloisonne heart rested between her collarbones, which only called attention to the swell of her perfect breasts.
A low groan left his throat. What he wouldn’t give to have her undivided attention.
“Oh, look, Phineas. The Duke of Ballantrae is in attendance this evening,” his mother whispered at his side. “And isn’t that the lady you spoke to the other night? They make a handsome pair.” Her chatter fell like dropped brass in his ears. “Gossip holds that he’s looking for a duchess.”
“Indeed.” Something akin to jealousy darted through his chest with lightning sharp accuracy. “Perhaps it’s time the duke learns about disappointment,” he whispered, not caring if his mother heard the aside or not.
She patted his shoulder. “I see my friend Lady Caulder. Excuse me for a moment. After I talk to her, we’ll make the rounds. If all goes well, we’ll find a lady who catches your eye.”
“I’m certain I can take care of myself.” Though he loved his mother, the matchmaking attempts had begun to grate. “Have a lovely time.” Then he squared his shoulders and wheeled himself toward that settee. “Good evening, Lady Jane. Your Grace.”
“Finn! Er, I mean Major Storme.” Genuine joy lit her emerald eyes when she looked at him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
The duke inclined his chin. He and Finn stared each other down. “Good evening, Major. I trust you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Not more than usual.” He didn’t care if he sounded surly. What he wanted was for the man to vacate the settee and leave Jane alone. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to chat with the lady for a few moments.” He left no room in his request for the duke to linger.
“Of course.” Smoothly, the blonde man rose to his feet. He took one of Jane’s hands and brought it to his lips. “If I don’t come back to you tonight, I shall see you at my ball later this month. Be sure to save me a dance then.” Their gazes connected and a faint blush filled Jane’s pale cheeks.
“I will.” She waved him off and then turned her full attention on Finn. “I’m happy you decided to come tonight.”