A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 17: A Ball Without Angel

Nathaniel moved through the crowded ballroom towards his sister. Jessica was under siege by a group of young fops, all vying for her attention. No one had quite expected how much of a success she would be this season, except possibly Aunt Jane, who would look just a little smug every time they discussed it. He supposed he should have foreseen it, seeing as she was the daughter and sister of a marquess, beautiful, and with a decent dowry. To think he had to look forward to this two more times... He groaned inwardly.

"Nathaniel." Jessica smiled as he pushed his way past her bevy of suitors. "What brings you to my side?"

"I thought perhaps you would like to take a walk about the room with me."

The group of men surrounding them glared daggers at him for disturbing their time with his sister. He didn't particularly care, and from the relieved look on Jessica's face, neither did she. She looped her hand around his arm.

"Always, Brother." She smiled at her suitors. "Please excuse me, gentlemen. The marquess requires my presence."

A murmur of polite agreement followed them as he turned to walk the edges of the ballroom with Jessica next to him. He considered how to phrase the question he wanted to pose to her. The question he shouldn't even be asking. After kissing Angel, he had done his best to stay away from her, and he'd managed rather well. It was all he could do since he didn't trust himself around her. One taste of her lips, and it was all he could think about. No other woman had occupied his thoughts like this. He didn't like it.

Since returning from the Kilkenny weekend party, he had not even had to put any effort into avoiding her. He had made it clear he was not looking for a wife, and now Angel seemed determined to stay away from him. Which should make him happy, as it made his life easier. But it was doing the opposite. At every social function, he found himself searching the crowd for her face, and once he found her, he spent the remainder of the evening fighting the urge to bring her somewhere secluded to kiss her until she could think of no other man. It was a fool's game, but one he could not stop playing.

Angel Grafton was not for him. She was too dangerous. His reaction to that kiss made that clear. And yet here he was, keeping his sister from her suitors because he could not stop scanning the room for a certain young lady.

"Have you seen Angel?" he asked.

Jessica's eyebrows lifted as she looked up at him. "You want to know if I've seen my friend?"

"Have you?"

"No." She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I spoke briefly to Gowthorpe earlier, and he mentioned she begged off with a headache." Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you asking?"

"I merely wondered." He was rather proud of how disinterested he sounded, though he wasn't sure his sister believed him. "I saw her family arrive and noticed she wasn't with them."

Jessica opened her mouth to say something, so he quickly bowed and left her before she got the chance. He had a feeling he didn't care to hear whatever it was she wanted to tell him. Wanting a moment of privacy, he stepped out onto the terrace and into the garden. He stopped by a small fountain and stared up at the night sky above. What was he doing? He should stay as far away from Angel as possible. But she was a fever in his blood ever since that kiss, and he wanted—no, craved—more.

"Lord Pensington?" a soft voice queried behind him.

He whipped around to find Joan Grant standing a little too close for comfort. Lately, she kept seeking him out, and he knew she had her sight set on making a good match this season. He had no intention of being that match.

"Miss Grant," he said with a quick bow. "I hope you are well."

"I was hoping to speak with you, my lord." A crease marred her otherwise perfectly smooth brow as she looked from side to side. "It's about Angel."