Page 24 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

“Until sauce is splashed on my skirt.”

“Then don’t spill.” Mama sighed. “Truly, Elizabeth, just be more mindful.”

Elizabeth gave way to the energy zinging around inside her and shifted in her seat.

Mama never understood that Elizabeth didn’t mean to be messy or clumsy. No matter how hard she tried, there was always something that fell on her, or rendered her path uneven.

“Ah, here is Darington Place now.” Mama smiled as the carriage rolled to a stop.

Elizabeth clung to the seat, wishing she could remain there in the warm quiet of the coach. Alone.

Preferably with a good novel.

But the door was whisked open by a footman, letting the chill sweep in along with the stark understanding that she was out of time.

Mama exited the carriage first with Elizabeth following suit. They were greeted by the butler and led into a vast foyer, far grander than the one in their townhouse. Mama’s brows lifted toward Elizabeth in the ultimate maternal approval, and Elizabeth could practically hear her mother’s words in her mind.

An enormously wealthy man—well done, Elizabeth.

They were led to the parlor where Lord Darington—Jasper—waited with his grandmother.

Jasper immediately went to Elizabeth’s side, first addressing her mother. “Good evening, Lady Langston.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “Welcome to my home, darling.”

Darling.

There was a tug in Elizabeth’s chest at the endearment. Did he have to address her as such?

“Your home is lovely,” Mama said, the compliment one of truth as much as politeness.

“His mother did an exquisite job with her decorating.” Lady Darington shot Jasper a look. “He’s done nothing with it since. Evidently, he’s been waiting on a wife to take on the task for him.” At that, his grandmother turned to Elizabeth.

She froze. Was this a test of some sort?

“Grandmother, you already know Lady Langston,” Jasper said.

The two older women nodded at one another.

“And this is Lady Elizabeth.” Jasper grinned. “My fiancée.” He held Elizabeth’s gaze, as if he was proud of her. As if he wanted her there. “And Lady Elizabeth, this is my grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Darington.”

“What a delight to meet you again, Lady Elizabeth. You appear to be the woman who has captured my grandson’s heart.” Lady Darington lifted her chin, her eyes narrowed in assessment.

Elizabeth was saved from having to reply by the fortunate ring of the dinner bell.

Jasper offered his grandmother his arm and led the way to the dining room where the table had been set as if an entire party of attendees was expected. Brilliant red roses formed a centerpiece on the table, with a rose at each place setting, the stem scraped free of thorns.

They slid into their seats as servants rushed forward to lay their napkins in their laps. Elizabeth pulled off her gloves.

A smudge of black showed at the wrist. When had she even been near something dark to stain the white kid leather?

Perhaps when she’d held onto the seat, wishing to remain exactly where she was.

“You are a pretty thing,” Lady Darington said abruptly.

Elizabeth’s cheeks burned under the dowager’s curt praise, not entirely liking the way the compliment was phrased. A thing. As if she were a bauble to take out and put on and then return to its box.

Still, she mustered a smile. “Thank you.”

“Do you have sons?” Lady Darington asked Mama almost before Elizabeth had finished speaking. “Forgive me, I don’t recall. My memory isn’t what it once was.”