And Then She Fell (Cynster 19 Cynster Sisters Duo #1) by Stephanie Laurens

too-thin and too-young Miss Chester and her aunt. Mrs. Julian engaged Henrietta, drawing in Mrs. Entwhistle, who’d been passing; the three ladies were soon deep in an exchange concerning the recent spate of political marriages, and the implications of King William’s failing health.
    At first James and Miss Chester pretended to listen, but then Miss Chester turned her bright eyes on James and shifted closer. “I’m not terribly riveted by politics, are you?”
    He saw no point in obfuscation. “Not at the moment.”
    “Perhaps”—Miss Chester glanced around the clearing—“you and I might go for a stroll.” She met his eyes. “Just the pair of us, as we aren’t truly interested in all the gossip.”
    The avid light in her eyes set alarm bells ringing in James’s head. Few others had left the dell, and from what he’d seen, those had been the older young ladies, like Henrietta, not the sweet young things like Miss Chester.
    And call him old-fashioned, but he hadn’t heard that it was yet common practice for young ladies to proposition gentlemen. Especially not gentlemen like him.
    But how to refuse her without being overly blunt?
    James glanced around for inspiration but found none. “Perhaps in a little while, if others are of a mind to ramble, too.”
    Miss Chester pouted. Literally pouted. James suspected she thought it looked endearing; it made him want to leave—he had not agreed to deal with spoilt, overeager young beauties.
    “Oh, I don’t think we need to wait.” Miss Chester shifted closer still and laid a hand on his sleeve. “Why,” she cooed, “I’m sure we can find something of interest to pass the time, away from all these others.” She caught his gaze—rigidly unresponsive—and all but batted her lashes. “I’ve heard the gardens are extensive. I’m sure we can find some quiet path along which to wander . . .”
    He honestly couldn’t recall ever being so blatantly propositioned in his life. “I daresay.” Enough was enough. “However—” He bit the word off, along with the rest of what was possibly a too-strongly worded rejection, and sent an entirely instinctive, helpless look Henrietta’s way.
    She was looking and caught it. Then her gaze dropped to Miss Chester’s hand, lightly gripping his sleeve . . .
    Henrietta noted in that part of her brain that had grown obsessed with James and his reactions that he’d stiffened, holding rigid against Miss Chester’s entreaty, but it wasn’t simply protectiveness that surged through her and had her turning to Mrs. Julian and Mrs. Entwhistle and saying, “Indeed, it’s all quite fascinating, but sadly, Mr. Glossup and I must be on our way.” An appropriately social smile curving her lips, she met Mrs. Julian’s eyes, saw the flash of irritation therein, and evenly stated, “We have other engagements in town and should start back. If you’ll excuse us?”
    James promptly got to his feet, helped her to hers, and joined with her in making their farewells. As she turned from the three ladies—leaving two, at least, metaphorically gnashing their teeth—he offered his arm.
    She took it. As they strolled away from the trio, he whispered sotto voce, “Are we really leaving?”
    The hope in his tone was impossible to miss. Smothering a laugh, she replied, “Of course,” and waved him toward their hostess.
    Lady Jersey wasn’t the least surprised to learn they had some other engagement. “Why, of course, my dears—you must be in such demand.”
    Duly taking their leave, Henrietta directed James down a secondary path. As he led her out of the clearing, she glanced up at him. “You really didn’t enjoy this, did you?”
    He grimaced. “The thing with being a wolf of the ton, you see, is that we avoid all such affairs when we’re younger, so now I’m . . . well, you might say ‘constitutionally unsuited’ to such entertainments. I’m all the time thinking that I’d much rather be somewhere else.”
    She snorted.