He followed her, then sat in a chair across from the pair of ladies. “Yes,” he began, “let’s do hear this plan of yours.”
Cordie flashed him a winning smile and then shifted on her seat to better see Bella. “I’m certain you’ll be relieved to learn that Lord Avery has agreed to play your fiancé.”
* * *
“Truly?” Bella’s eyes darted back toward Lord Avery, and her gaze locked with the handsome baron’s once more. Heavens, he was still as dashing as he’d been when she first spotted him at the Astwicks’. She gulped as uncertainty spiraled about her.
“I truly am at your service, my lady,” he replied.
Her heart nearly melted. He was at her service? Gooseflesh rippled across her skin. She’d never imagined so handsome a man saying such words to her. Honestly, she hadn’t ever imagined any man saying such words to her, handsome or otherwise. But to hear them from Lord Avery, his serious green eyes, staring so intently at her…well, she wasn’t certain what to think, let alone what say in response.
She couldn’t help but wonder, however, why he was so willing to be at her service. Not that Bella wasn’t grateful that the baron was willing to help her. She was. Truly. But why would he so willingly agree to play her pretend fiancé? Was it simply because he was Lady Clayworth’s brother? Or did it have something to do with the debt the lady had mentioned the day before? And if it was the latter…
“Tonight is the Duchess of Kelfield’s ball,” Lady Clayworth said, interrupting Bella’s musings. “I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if we announce your betrothal there tonight, don’t you agree?”
Goodness. As soon as they announced this betrothal, it would be real. Or as real as a pretend betrothal could be. Bella sucked in a breath.
“Before we get that far,” Lord Avery began, drawing Bella’s attention back to him, “are you certain your father will even accept my suit?”
Papa would probably welcome a dockworker’s suit if it meant marrying her off, not that she wanted to admit as much.
“What could he possibly find at fault with you, Gregory?” Lady Clayworth asked, a bit of sisterly pride in her voice.
“Well, I’ve never met the man.” The baron heaved a sigh. “He might think my sudden interest in his daughter odd as I’ve never stepped foot in this house before today.”
Bella shook her head and forced a smile to her face. “Papa will accept your offer, my lord. Hellsburg, my cousin, will take me with him to Prussia otherwise, and I believe my father would prefer that I remain in England.” At least she hoped he did. He had made it sound that way when discussing the situation with her grandfather, hadn’t he?
“Noted.” Lord Avery nodded as though that made sense. Then he asked, “How did we meet? I assume he’ll want to know details such as this when he interviews me. It would be best for our stories to match.”
Lady Clayworth shook her head. “I believe simple is best in this case. You’ve only had a few instances where you could have met each other.”
“But we did meet,” Bella said softly, and both the baron and countess turned their attentions back to her. She shrugged a bit. “The other night at the Astwicks’.”
“I’d hardly call that meeting you.” Lord Avery frowned a bit.
But Lady Clayworth nodded in agreement. “I think it’s perfect, Greg. You met Lady Arabella briefly at the Astwicks’ and you’ve thought of nothing but her since that encounter. You’ve never been a believer in love at first sight, but now you can’t imagine your future without her by your side.”
Lord Avery’s frown deepened. “Have you been reading horrid novels again?” he asked his sister.
She waved off his remark with a sweep of her hand in the air. “We want the marquess to accept your offer, Greg.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “But we don’t want to do it up too brown, Cordie, or no one will believe it when she cries off in the end.”
Lady Clayworth heaved a sigh. “We have a while before we have to worry about the end. It’s the beginning that we need to concern ourselves with at the moment.”
“Just tell him,” Bella began, “that we had a conversation that night about paints.” She hated to broach the subject, but Papa knew next to nothing about art, other than his wife had scandalously abandoned him and their children to tour the continent with her painting master, never to return. “He won’t look for any details in that regard. Tell him you think we’ll get along well. That’s all he’ll care about, I’m certain.”
“Paints?” Lord Avery echoed.
Bella nodded quickly. “Tell him you have a passion for painting. He won’t ask questions, I assure you.”
“I haven’t an artistic bone in my body,” the baron admitted.
That was unfortunate, but neither did Papa. Regardless, that was neither here nor there. “He doesn’t need to know that.”
“No, I suppose he doesn’t,” Lord Avery agreed, his green eyes assessing her once more.
Lady Clayworth clapped her hands together. “Perfect. After you get him to agree to your offer, Greg, do talk him into announcing the betrothal at Livvie’s ball tonight.” Then she smiled in Bella’s direction. “The Kelfield ball, that is.”