“Where else would I be?” he asked, though there were a number of places he’d rather be. Then he introduced Olivia to Bella and her family before looking out at the sea of people in attendance. A few years ago, the ballroom would have been more than sparse, but tonight it was quite filled. Was that all his sister’s doing? No, it couldn’t be. Cordie rarely left Clayworth House these days. There wasn’t any way she could be responsible for filling Olivia’s ballroom to such a level. “Where is Cordie?”
Olivia gestured across the way. “The last I saw her, she and Clayworth were keeping Tristan and Phoebe company.”
Tristan and Phoebe. The pair of them were looking directly at Greg, and his stomach twisted again. Phoebe wore the most confused expression, and Greg wasn’t certain how he was going to manage lying to his brother and sister-in-law for any amount of time, let alone weeks on end. Cordie, unfortunately, was not with them, however.
“Oh, I’m being summoned. Please do excuse me,” Olivia said as she stepped from their group. “But thank you so much for being here.”
As though Greg had been offered a choice in the matter. He glanced back toward his brother and sister-in-law, who were still staring quite pointedly at him. Damn it all. As they’d made eye contact with Greg, he couldn’t avoid going to them. Though he wished he could. He wished he could avoid the pair altogether this evening, but that wouldn’t be possible. Honestly, he should have been elated. He should be quite eager to introduce Bella to Phoebe as quickly as possible, as this pretend betrothal would keep his sister-in-law from thrusting anymore of her marriage-minded friends in his path. He should be walking on air, but—
“Oh,” Aylesford said in that soft, gentle way he said most things. “There’s Lady Staveley. I wonder if her husband is here too.”
Greg wasn’t certain he’d ever laid eyes on Lord Staveley. He could scan the room a hundred times and never know if the man was here or not. “No idea.”
“Well, I’ll go ask her,” Bella’s father said. “I found a book in the library this afternoon that I think he’d be quite interested in.”
As the marquess made his way through the crowd, a smile lit Gillingham’s face. “Do you want any ratafia, Bella?”
“No, thank you,” she replied to her brother.
“I’ll just help myself, then.” A moment later, the soused baron was off too.
And then Greg finally had Bella all to himself…well, all to himself with a crush of people crowded around them. But it might be the only moment they had with each other before nothing was the same any more. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice loud enough for only her to hear him.
Bella blinked up at him, her grey eyes so deep he could lose himself in them and never know how it happened. “Nervous. You?”
More than a little, not that he wanted to admit as much to her. “Are you sure you want to do this? You didn’t quite seem yourself at dinner.” Not that he knew her well enough to know how she was most of the time, but she didn’t seem like the girl he’d met that afternoon, in any event.
“Do you want to back out?” she looked more than panicked all of a sudden.
“No, no, no,” he rushed to assure her, taking her hands in his. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
She breathed what seemed like a sigh of relief. “I’m just a very poor actress, I think.”
Perhaps, but that didn’t answer her skittishness during dinner. “Come now,” he teased, hoping to put her a bit more at ease. “When you stare up at me like you do, I’m almost convinced you’re in love with me, and I know better.”
A blush stained her cheeks, and she would have tugged her hands from his if he hadn’t tightened his hold.
“I didn’t say that to embarrass you,” he whispered. “You just have the sweetest expression, like I’m a hero of mythical proportions.”
She smiled then. “Aren’t you?”
Greg couldn’t help but smile back. “Not even on my best day. But as long as you look at me as though I am, no one will doubt your undying love for me.”
A tiny giggle escaped Bella and her eyes crinkled at the edges. “You are—”
“Greg?”
The sound of Tristan’s voice from behind him made Greg wince slightly. Their lie was about to get bigger and there would be no coming back from it as soon as Tristan and Phoebe learned his news. He squeezed Bella’s fingers in a silent vow of support, then he glanced over his shoulder to find his brother and Phoebe standing there, both of them sporting quizzical expressions.
“Tris, Phoebe.” He feigned a smile for the pair.
Tristan cleared his throat and glanced in Bella’s direction. A not so subtle hint.
“Tristan, you remember Lady Arabella?” Greg began.
Phoebe’s brow scrunched up at that as she cast her husband a sidelong glance.
“Yes, of course.” His brother’s gaze retuned to Bella. “How are you this evening, my lady?”