Page 26 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Nora stiffened by his side and dropped her hand from his sleeve. ‘It’s my mother.’

‘You should go.’ Even knowing the fantasy had to end, he was reluctant for her to leave his side.

She raised thick lashes to look up at him. ‘I had a lovely time.’ Then, as if realizing what she’d said, she blushed and she quickly lifted her skirts and ran off to her family.

The moment was broken. He watched as she joined her mother, then was led off to catch up with her sisters.

Ralston reluctantly turned away. Not for the first time, he wondered at his fascination with her. It was too easy to forget himself when she looked up at him. It didn’t matter whether her gaze was inquisitive, flashing with anger or brimming with humour.

Turning away, he found Adler drinking a tankard of ale by a stall selling refreshments. Ralston paid for his own tankard and drank.

Adler gave him a sideways glance. ‘You may need something stronger than the ale.’

Ralton lowered the tankard. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight. Will you miss your fiancée? Once we return to Town, you will not be able to see the lady as easily as you can here.’

Ralston’s lips flattened at his friend’s comments. Adler could be a nosy gossip. Still, Ralston looked across the green to where Nora stood with her mother and sisters. Nora appeared in conversation with her parent. Not for the first time, he realized it wasn’t just Nora he would be marrying; her family would become his own. From the encounters he’d had with her sisters, he liked the ladies. Nora’s mother, however, was still a formidable force.

Ralston’s jaw tensed when he thought of returning home. ‘London will come soon enough.’

Chapter Nine

Nora parted the curtains of the coach as the wheels hit another rut in the road.

‘I fear I’ll be sick,’ Sara said.

‘Breathe in deeply and look outside,’ Candace said.

‘Don’t be dramatic, Sara. We have a while to go before we reach London,’ their mother said.

Nora bit her lip to keep from responding. An angry retort wouldn’t help her sister. She understood her mother had had to fend for herself since becoming a widow. But she also wished she could show more softness at times.

From the pale tint of Sara’s complexion, her sister was in need of rest and fresh air. The temperature in the crowded coach had increased as the afternoon sun blazed outside.

Nora, too, was overly warm. She could blame the condition on the road, the heat or the fact that her sisters were crammed against her. None of those factors were what upset her disposition. The wheels of the coach hit another bump and jostled the riders. Sara moaned. Candace gasped. Nora wanted to throw open the doors and jump out.

They were drawing closer and closer to Town.

And her wedding.

Her thoughts turned to Ralston who was riding in his crested carriage with Lord Adler. Was he feeling the effects of the journey? Or was he conversing with his friend regarding their return to Town and to their clubs.

So much would change. Nora would have to move from her childhood home, the only home she’d known, to the Earl’s Berkley Square mansion. He’d told her about his long-time housekeeper, and Nora would depend on the woman’s competency after she wed and became a countess. But what would his staff think when he returned with news of a soon-to-be mistress of the manor? As for the Earl, would he properly introduce her to his household? Would they welcome her or look upon her as an oddity when they learned of her scientific interests. To make matters worse, what did she know of running a large estate? She’d never bothered to listen to her mother. She’d never intended to marry. Heavens, everything would change, and fast. Her anxiety tripled.

‘As soon as we return, we must visit the modiste.’

Nora gave her mother a blank look. ‘Pardon?’

‘The modiste. Did you not hear me, Nora? We have little time to spare.’ Her mother’s lips pursed in exasperation. ‘We have a wedding to plan.’

Nora felt sick, and it wasn’t entirely due to the swaying of the carriage. ‘Must we consider it so quickly?’

‘Yes, we must.’ Her mother tapped her chin with a forefinger. ‘There is the wedding dress, of course. In addition, you need an entire trousseau.’

A tingling of dread made her shiver. She’d stowed all the details of an upcoming marriage far away in the recesses of her mind. Now, with each passing mile that brough them closer to London, a different panic welled in her breast.

‘Blue would look good with your hair. Don’t you agree Sara and Candace?’ her mother asked the sisters.