“I like it,” Winston countered. “Something different.”
Dunthorpe looked at her. “There aren’t any hedges.”
Millie held back a smile at the incredulous look Winston gave him.
“Why would there be?” Winston asked.
“Never mind.” Dunthorpe shook his head as a ruddiness coated his cheeks.
A dance had already begun, so she and Winston would have to wait for the next one. Unfortunately, Millie’s mother signaled for her to join her.
“If you will excuse me.” Millie sent Winston an apologetic look, fearing he wouldn’t remain at the ball long enough for them to dance together.
“Of course.” He dipped his head. “Will you please save me the next dance?”
Her heart lightened with his request. “I will.”
“May I have the one after that?” Dunthorpe asked.
Millie stilled, though she shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course. Thank you.”
With that, she returned to her mother, waiting impatiently for the next dance to begin. The evening was going better than she could’ve hoped, despite Dunthorpe’s appearance. That Winston had followed through with his invitation to dance, somethinghe’d mentioned at the lending library, surely showed he cared for her. How much remained to be seen.
A concerted search of the club late the following afternoon at last revealed Winston’s quarry in one of the card rooms.
“I need a word, Dunthorpe.” Winston didn’t care that he was interrupting a game.
The viscount frowned, eyes narrowing at Winston’s less-than-friendly tone. “Regarding what?”
Aware of the interested gazes of the other men at the table, all of whom he knew, he modified his tone. “A private matter.”
“You will have to wait until we finish the hand, Linford,” one of the other men insisted with a glare.
Frustration simmering inside him, Winston reluctantly nodded and departed before he was tempted to grab Dunthorpe by the arm and haul him out. It wouldn’t do to show his upset.
The reason for his displeasure was nothing he cared to examine too closely. After all, he had enjoyed a dance with Millicent the previous evening. In fact, he’d enjoyed it very much. But he couldn’t deny the poor mood that had come over him the moment he’d watched Dunthorpe escort her away for his turn.
After a sleepless night, Winston determined he needed to clear the air with the viscount and make him aware that his pursuit of Millicent was unwise. There was no need for Winston to declare his own interest in her. He’d simply warn the man off and tell him he should look elsewhere for a bride.
He shifted his shoulders to ward off the guilt that settled over him at the thought of how selfish he was being. But he didn’t appreciate feeling pressed between two impossible choices. Much like he had done in the past, he refused to make a decision.Better that he simply waited to see what hand fate dealt. That way, he wouldn’t be to blame if the outcome didn’t go the way he hoped. Never mind his faulty logic.
First, he needed Dunthorpe out of the way.
After getting a drink, he settled in a corner table so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. It wasn’t long before Dunthorpe sauntered out of the card room and, after a glance around the room, joined Winston.
“I do believe I have you to thank for my poor luck, Linford,” the viscount accused as he sank into a chair at the table.
“You shouldn’t wager what you’re unwilling to lose.” As if any man in the club hadn’t done just that at least once, including Winston.
“Humph.” Dunthorpe shook his head. “What is it you wanted to speak to me about?”
“I think it best that you pursue someone other than Miss Davies.” No need to beat about the bush when he could get straight to the point.
“Why is that?”
“I have come to know her better the last week or two, and I can say with certainty you wouldn’t suit.” There. That should solve the problem.
Dunthorpe stared at him with a perplexed look on his face. “I disagree.”