A Night with the Bride(2)

Mary must have read the uncertainty on Gabriella’s face. Flipping her fan open, she sighed. “We must accept that women of our kind aren’t likely to attract men of his distinction.”

“Women of our kind? My God, Mary, you speak as though we are another species entirely—like rabbits or kangaroos!” She released a heavy sigh. Mary’s grim outlook could not be borne. It simply couldn’t. Gabriella’s pride wouldn’t allow it. “Very well, I will take you up on your challenge. But when I win, I will not hear another disparaging word about our kind again, is that clear?”

“Quite,” Mary said.

“Excellent.” Gabriella let out a breath and glanced at the duke. He hadn’t moved, which was no great surprise. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought his boots were nailed to the floorboards. “I shall get on with it then.”

Three days. Good heavens, what had she agreed to?

“Wait,” she said, whirling back on her friends. “We haven’t been introduced.”

“Oh,” Julia said. “Yes, you are quite right. Well, that is a predicament indeed.”

Working hard to conceal her relief, Gabriella shook her head bleakly. “And he would have been such a jolly conquest. What a pity.”

“Ask Mr. Leventhorpe to introduce you,” Mary said.

Both Gabriella and Julia gaped at her in horror.

“The lady introduced to the gentleman?” Julia laughed, as though it were all a great joke. “Really, Mary, the idea!”

“Well.” Mary shrugged. “If Gabriella can’t manage it, then I suppose she must admit defeat.”

“That is hardly fair.” Gabriella stopped just short of stomping her foot. “It isn’t my fault we haven’t been introduced.”

“If he hasn’t asked for an introduction, then we can only presume that you haven’t captured his notice, and you are therefore unsuitable.”

Gabriella glared. To lose before the challenge had even begun was not an option worth considering. Stubbornness was in her blood. Her father had not accumulated his vast fortune by admitting defeat easily. She would persevere.

With a tight smile, Gabriella said, “You are wrong, and it will give me great pleasure to prove it. Mark my words, his grace will be eating out of my palm by breakfast.”

Mary pursed her lips. “We shall see.”

Straightening her spine, Gabriella brushed past her friends and strode confidently toward James Leventhorpe, their host and a close friend. She tapped him on the shoulder, and when he turned around to face her, she flashed him a sunny smile. “I need a favor.”

“You need only ask,” he said with his usual lazy charm.

“Introduce me to His Grace.”

The moment the words left her mouth, his lips quirked. “That, my dear, is impossible. He isn’t moving from that spot, I can assure you. You might as well ask me to fetch you the moon.”

She frowned. “Well, if he will not come to me, then take me to him.”

“That would be highly improper.”

Gabriella scoffed. “And when have you ever done the proper thing? Just last month I heard you were scolded for dancing a waltz with a footman…and at Almack’s, no less!”

The prestigious club had revoked his membership forthwith for his déclassé behavior.

“That was not my fault,” he said defensively. “The wine was unusually potent, and the footman had excessively feminine features. Anyone could have made the same mistake.”

“He was a head taller than you,” Gabriella said flatly. “And he was wearing livery.”

“Good God, I can’t be expected to keep up with all the latest fashions.” He let out a harsh breath and glanced over her shoulder, to where the duke stood. “You are in luck. His sister has just joined him. Wait here.”

Gabriella stood patiently amid a group of guests, until James came back to fetch her. He tapped her nose. “You are in my debt.”

Gabriella smiled victoriously, curling her hand around James’s proffered arm as he led her to the duke and his sister. As they approached, Lady Emmeline turned to them and smiled.

“Lady Emmeline Montgomery, may I introduce Miss Gabriella Weatherfield?”

They curtsied, and after the necessary pleasantries, Lady Emmeline said, “May I introduce my brother, Nicholas Montgomery, the Duke of Somerset?”

The moment his assessing eyes settled on her, she sucked in a sharp, involuntary breath. Up close, he was deliciously handsome, with thick lashes, a square jaw, and lips that promised wicked, sinful delights. The urge to taste those lips tugged at her, but it was his eyes that intrigued her most. They were a vivid ice blue, and they raked over her with a lazy, calculating perusal.