Page 45 of The Marriage Wager

“How dare you?” Muriel snapped. “I know my mother told you that Dominic and I have an understanding, yet still you chase after him. I saw you flirting with him, leading him out onto the terrace.”

Anger sliced through Constance at the other woman’s contemptuous words, and she was aware of a strong desire to box Muriel’s ears, but she kept her voice calm and quiet as she said, “Careful, Lady Muriel. You overstep your bounds.”

“Stay away from him!” Muriel shot back bluntly.

“If I were you, my lady, I would lower my voice. You would not want to create a scene in front of all these people.”

“I don’t care!” Muriel retorted rashly. “Let everyone know what you are up to!”

“I doubt that you would care to have everyone hear that you are not engaged to Lord Leighton despite what your mother has been saying,” Constance answered, gazing back at Muriel with a quiet, unmoving confidence.

Muriel’s eyes flashed, and Constance thought for an instant that the woman was actually going to slap her. But then Muriel seemed to gain control over herself, and she let out a harsh laugh that held no amusement at all.

“Do you actually think he will marry you?” Muriel asked, her voice dripping with scorn. “Gentlemen like Lord Leighton don’t marry pretty little nobodies like you. They dally with such women, that is all. They marry someone like me!”

“I suggest, Muriel, that you stop talking before you make more of a fool of yourself than you already have,” cracked out a masculine voice.

Both women started in surprise and whirled to find Dominic standing beside them. Neither had seen him approaching. Constance wondered how much of their conversation he had overheard.

He held a cup of punch in his hand, which he handed to Constance with a small, polite bow in her direction. His face was set in a cool, courteous mask, but there was a hard quality to his blue eyes that betrayed his temper.

“D-Dominic.” Muriel looked dismayed. “I did not see you there.”

“Clearly.” He looked at Muriel, and Constance felt a faint twinge of pity even for her, having to face Dominic’s stony gaze. “You and your mother appear to be laboring under a misapprehension, Lady Muriel. You and I are not engaged.”

Muriel looked as if she had sustained a blow, but she recovered quickly, letting out a little laugh and saying, “Of course we have not yet made the announcement….”

“There will be no announcement,” Dominic retorted bluntly.

Muriel sucked in her breath sharply, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Perhaps my father and your mother should have consulted me before they made their arrangements. I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that my father encouraged you and Lady Rutherford to think that I was amenable to my parents’ plans for my future. However, I can assure you that I am not. I never gave the Earl any reason to think that I would marry as he directed. Nor have I at anytime said anything to you or your parents that would indicate that I had any intention of asking for your hand. That much, at least, I know you are aware of. I would have thought that fact would have restrained your mother or you from uttering the falsehoods that you have told Miss Woodley.”

Muriel gaped at him. She recovered enough to say in a low, harsh voice, “Dominic! Do not be a fool. You know that people such as you and I marry for larger reasons than some mawkish sentiment.”

“Muriel,” he replied impatiently, “I am not going—”

“No!” Muriel flung up a hand as if to stop him, pasting on a brittle smile. “Please. Do not. I will not stay here and listen to you say something I know you will later regret, when you have gotten over…this foolishness.” She cast a last dagger of a look at Constance, then whirled around and stalked off.

Dominic’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with a dangerous light. Constance thought for an instant that he was about to start after Muriel, but at that moment Francesca swept up on Sir Lucien’s arm, smiling brightly.

“Dominic, my love, there you are!” she exclaimed as if she had not seen him only half an hour earlier, linking her arm through her brother’s and turning him away.

Dominic stiffened, then visibly relaxed his face and turned toward Constance. “I apologize, Miss Woodley.”

Constance was trembling, her stomach quivering with nerves, but she managed to shake her head, pasting a smile on her lips, and said, “No, please, do not worry about it, my lord. I am fine, I assure you. I am growing accustomed to Lady Muriel’s manner of speech.”

“Then you are a much braver person than I,” Sir Lucien told her. “Frankly, the woman terrifies me.”

The others smiled, the tension of a moment earlier eased. Sir Lucien turned to Constance, giving her a graceful bow, and asked her for the dance that was about to start.

Gratefully, she accepted. She needed to be away from Dominic for a moment, to have a chance to recover her temper and her composure, and a dance with as capable and entertaining a partner as Sir Lucien was perfect for her purpose. Constance laid her hand on his arm and nodded a polite goodbye to Francesca and Dominic.

Francesca watched her friends leave, waiting until they were on the dance floor and the music was starting before she turned back to her brother.

“Now,” she said, crossing her arms and fixing him with her dark blue gaze, so like his own, “just what do you think you are doing?”

Dominic stiffened, his eyes sparking with anger. “What? You, too?”