He’d only had the thought that he would like to.

“Ah, but you have the look you did when we swiftly left Lord and Lady Montfort’s the moment we reached the front of the receiving line,” his mother said dryly.

He grunted. “It seemed like a good idea to…depart.”

“Did said departure have anything to do with catching sight of Rhys there?”

Anthony gave his mother a sharp look. The last thing he wanted or needed was having the gossips pick up on the long-ago feud between him and Lord Rhys Brookfield.

“Oh, please, Anthony,” she drawled. “Do you truly believe any of the gentlemen present are paying us any notice?”

Together, they looked at the sea of suitors surrounding Eloise.

He glared. Nay, he didn’t. The swains were making fools of themselves. And the last thing he’d allow his sister to do was marry a bloody cockswain.

One of the suitors, however, did choose that inopportune moment to glance up, his gaze landing on Anthony.

The auburn-haired fellow paled, and then, Adam’s apple bobbing, the young man turned and raced off, tripping over several guests and his own feet in his haste to run from Anthony.

“Behave,” Anthony’s mother chided, tapping him lightly on the arm with her fan.

“I did not say anything.” He felt inclined to deliver that terse reminder.

“Ah, but no words were necessary.”

A crack appeared in the throng, and he caught the eye of his sister.

“Behave,” Eloise mouthed.

“See? Your sister saw it.”

“There was nothing to see.”

“We shall agree to disagree, my dear son.” Snapping her fan closed, she let the dainty wood article dangle at her side as she took his arm. “Now, look how all eyes are upon you, too.”

He didn’t want to. Nor did he need to. Since he’d resumed attending ton affairs, carrying the title of duke, he’d been the recipient of the same fawning notice. “It is enough to suffocate a man,” he muttered.

“I expect it is,” his mother said commiseratively, giving his arm another pat. “Why don’t you take a turn about the room?” she murmured, steering him away. “Fetch yourself a flute of champagne. Meet old friends.”

He ground to a stop.

“Er…well, mayhap not that one. But certainly, one of the others. I shall keep a careful eye upon your sister.”

“You are trying to be rid of me.”

His mother didn’t even attempt to deny that. “Absolutely, I am. Just because you’ve resolved to not bask in the attention sent you doesn’t mean your sister shouldn’t.” She beamed. “Now, do be a good son and run along.”

Run along? He cursed inside his head.

“I am fine right here,” he said tightly.