She let out an awful choke and her hand came to her mouth, not so much to cover it as to hold something in.

“Forgive me,” he said, but they both knew that what he’d said was unforgivable.

“I thought I did not like you because of what you did to my family,” she said, holding herself so rigid that she shook, “but that’s not it at all. You are a terrible person.”

He stood very still, the way he’d been taught since birth. A gentleman was always in control of his body. A gentleman didn’t flail his arms or spit or fidget. He did not have much left in his life, but he had this—his pride, his bearing. “I shall endeavor not to press myself into your company,” he said stiffly.

“It’s too late for that,” she bit off.

“I beg your pardon?”

Her eyes bored into his. “My cousin, if you recall, has requested that we sit together at the wedding breakfast.”

Apparently he did forget some things. Bloody hell. He had promised Lady Honoria. There was no getting out of it. “I can be civil if you can,” he said.

She shocked him then, holding out her hand to seal their agreement. He took it, and in that moment when her hand lay in his, he had the most bizarre urge to bring her fingers to his lips.

“Have we a truce, then?” she said.

He looked up.

That was a mistake.

Because Lady Sarah Pleinsworth was gazing up at him with an expression of uncommon and (he was quite sure) uncharacteristic clarity. Her eyes, which had always been hard and brittle when turned in his direction, were softer now. And her lips, he realized now that she wasn’t hurling insults at him, were utter perfection, full and pink, and touched with just the right sort of curve. They seemed to tell a man that she knew things, that she knew how to laugh, and if he only laid down his soul for her, she would light up his world with a single smile.

Sarah Pleinsworth.

Good God, had he lost his mind?

Chapter Five

Later that night

When Sarah came down for supper, she was feeling a bit better about having to spend the evening with Hugh Prentice. The row they’d had that afternoon had been awful, and she could not imagine they would ever choose to be friends, but at least they’d got everything out in the open. If she was to be forced to remain at his side for the duration of the wedding, he would not think she was doing so out of any desire for his company.

And he would behave properly as well. They had struck a bargain, and whatever his faults, he did not seem the type to go back on his word. He would be polite, and he would put on a good show for Honoria and Marcus, and once this ridiculous month of weddings was over, they would never need speak with each other again.