He looked up to see Eliza watching him with a puzzled expression. Clearly his thoughts had carried him away, and he’d lost track of the conversation. “Yes?”
“I asked what your plans were for the coming week,” his sister said.
“Oh. Well, I can’t say that I know as of yet. Why?”
“Philip and I are hosting a dinner party on Friday evening. Just a small gathering with friends. Would you be able to join us?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask who else would be in attendance, but all he really wanted to know was whether Millicent would be. He normally preferred to spend evenings at his club. There was always a card or dice game to amuse himself with or the companionship of friends. But now that Trentworth was married to his sister, the club held less appeal. He had other friends, of course, but it wasn’t the same.
Or perhapshewasn’t the same.
He pushed aside the worrisome thought to study Eliza’s face. Her hopeful expression, rather than a polite one, suggested she truly wanted him to come. The notion warmed him.
Why had he thought her too much trouble in his younger days and sent her away? The last year or two since her return had been nice. Then again, they had both matured since the days after their parents had been killed over eight years ago.
“I suppose. I assume a refusal would make your numbers uneven.” He nearly grimaced as the ungrateful reply slipped out.
Eliza’s eyes flashed with a mix of hurt and irritation. He couldn’t blame her. Each time they seemed to grow a little closer, he felt compelled to push back.
Now wasn’t the time to analyze the reason for it. Perhaps he hadn’t changed as much as he thought.
He pushed to his feet, more than ready to take his leave before he said something else to hurt Eliza, or his aunt took issue with him.
“I must be going.” He patted his sister’s shoulder awkwardly, wishing he were a better brother. A better man.
But he wasn’t.
Nor was he a good nephew, despite currently being in his aunt’s good graces.
“Thank you again, Winston.” Aunt Frieda rose, a hint of a smile still on her face.
The answering warmth in his chest had him pressing a hand to the unfamiliar sensation.
“What is it?” Eliza asked with a concerned look.
That she not only noticed something was wrong but inquired, considering how displeased she was with him at the moment, only warmed him more.
He needed to leave. Quickly. Before he acted completely out of character and hugged them both.
“Nothing at all. Send me the details about dinner. I look forward to it.” He turned to his aunt and kissed her offered cheek. “The happiest of birthdays to you. I’m pleased you like the gift.”
“It’s delightful. Well done.”
As he walked out of his aunt’s townhouse, it occurred to him that his presence at his sister’s dinner party was probably required because Aunt Frieda was going and required a partner.
Blast it.
But there was a chance Millicent would be there, so he would go.
Chapter Three
Millie’s hand trembled asshe knocked on Eliza’s door, and then waited for it to be answered. She had considered not attending the dinner party since there was a chance Winston would be there, yet here she was.
While she welcomed the opportunity to spend more time with him, she feared that doing so in the presence of not only the members of the league, but especially Eliza, would allow more than Tibby to guess at her feelings. It was concerning enough that Tibby knew.
Her friend’s suggestion of making a bold move or two or even three had kept her awake the last few nights, but it just wasn’t logical. She wasn’t the type of lady who caused men, especially marquesses or rogues, to fall in love.
After being in Society for nearly seven years without such an occurrence, she knew better. In addition, Winston already knew her and had for well over a year. His only interest in her was because of her friendship with his sister and the wager.