Page 22 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

As he spoke, Edwin realized—with some surprise—that he meant it.

She was lively. Intelligent. A most capable partner in conversation and repartee.

And yet, as he studied her—the smooth cream of her complexion, the delicate flush in her cheeks—he found himself willing, almost urging, to feel something more than mere admiration.

But perhaps…

Perhaps it was better this way.

Control was safety. Distance was certainty.

Lady Molly’s opinions would carry considerable weight in society.

And she would make an excellent wife.

“You have grown quiet, my lord,” she said after a moment. “I begin to fear that, despite your assurances, I may indeed have overstepped.”

He offered her a quick, reassuring smile. “Not at all. I was only considering your words. You have given me a great deal to reflect upon.” He paused, then added, “It is no small thing to provoke thought in others, Lady Molly. Some might even call it a virtue.”

She exhaled, visibly relieved. “Then I am glad I have not offended you. That was never my intention.”

Sensing the tension, Edwin shifted the subject. “And what did you think of the party the other evening? Are you fond of society?”

She glanced down at her gloved hands before looking ahead once more. “I am—when I am permitted a more active role within it.” A faint smile touched her lips. “As you may have observed, Lord Devon, I have resigned myself to being something of a wallflower.”

“Surely not.”

“I assure you, it is quite true. Though I find it far more diverting to dance than to keep company with the potted plants along the wall.”

Edwin laughed softly. Charming—and a sense of humor besides.

“Then those poor plants must be quite bereft when you are summoned away to dance.”

She met his gaze with another wry smile. “I am certain they miss me terribly.”

His laughter this time was more genuine. “Well then,” he said lightly, “I shall endeavor to rescue you from their company at the next gathering—provided you tell me which event you intend to attend.” He allowed himself a small inward satisfaction.

Smooth. Entirely appropriate. Public.

“The next event we are to attend is this very evening,” she replied. “Lady Hammerstein is hosting a ball. I imagine you received an invitation?”

He nodded as they rounded the Serpentine. “Indeed, I did. And I shall be certain to accept at once upon my return home. I would not wish to miss such an opportunity.”

She tilted her head slightly. “And what of you, Lord Devon?”

“What of me?”

“Do you enjoy society?”

Edwin considered her question carefully.

Lady Molly did not ask idle questions. Of that, he was already certain.

He chose his answer with care. “I find society … entertaining,” he said. “Though there was a time when I found it far more agreeable than I do at present.” He glanced toward her. “That said, I have discovered that the right company makes all the difference.”

Her expression shifted—subtle, but perceptible. “Flattery?” she asked, almost cautiously, as though uncertain whether to believe him.

“No,” he said evenly. “Honesty, Lady Molly.”