Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman by Julia Justiss Page B

under his spell. Tantalising as she—still, alas—found the notion of kissing him, it would be dangerously easy to be lured into improper behaviour.
    Intriguing Anders might be, but after waiting so long to begin pursuing it, she had no intention of throwing away her lifelong dream of becoming a brilliant political hostess by compromising herself with a landless gentleman who possessed little more than a fine pedigree, a well-made body and a beguiling smile.
    So she would just have to resist him. Upon that firm conclusion, she entered the parlour to find Papa finishing his sherry. Beside his chair, sipping a sherry of his own, stood Mr Anders.
    Another of those annoying thrills rippled through her.
    Willing it away, she noted he was properly attired in plain black evening dress, with a white-figured waistcoat beneath a modestly intricate cravat. With an inward smile, she recalled their discussion of Beau Brummell. Though his garb was simple, it was well cut and obviously of superior quality—and on him, elegant simplicity looked splendid.
    She realised she was staring yet again and jerked her gazeaway. Just then, the door opened and, in a flurry of apologies for her lateness, Althea hurried in.
    â€˜As you see, our guest is finally able to join us this evening,’ Lord Bronning informed them as she bent to kiss his cheek. ‘Amanda, I trust you’ve instructed Cook to prepare something worthy of the occasion. Mr Anders, you’ve met my daughter, Miss Neville. Allow me to present my niece, Miss Holton, who always dines with us, although she is not officially out. As you see, we don’t stand on formality among family.’ His genial smile faded a bit. ‘After the events of last summer, we treasure those still left to us.’
    â€˜It’s I who am honoured, my lord, at being included,’ Mr Anders replied.
    Bows and curtsies exchanged, Amanda was about to take Anders’s arm when, to her surprise, her brother George strolled in. She felt a pang of both resentment and concern to see how Papa’s expression brightened upon realising that his son and heir had deigned to dine with them.
    Fortunately, she was relieved to note, along with bestowing upon them that honour, George taken the trouble to remain sober, don fresh, crisply starched linen and wear proper evening dress, rather than show up still in riding breeches, as he had on several previous occasions.
    It was Althea who offended propriety, dashing over to seize Mr Anders’s arm and claim his escort into the dining room. Not wishing to reprimand or argue with her—though Mr Anders would know as well as she did that, as the highest-ranking lady present, it was her responsibility to escort in their guest— Amanda gritted her teeth and took her father’s arm.
    Her irritation over Althea’s lapse was mollified by observing her brother’s surprisingly good behaviour. Instead of remaining silent, staring moodily into his wineglass, as he had on the handful of other evenings he’d chosen to dine at home, George roused himself to enquire of his father how he had spent hisday, then followed up by asking several quite intelligent questions about the state of the fields and cattle. Her heart twisted anew to observe how eagerly Papa responded to just the slightest indication of interest from his heir.
    Poor Papa, who’d worked so tirelessly to exact a good return from a thin begrudging soil, deserved to turn over his acres to someone who loved them as he did, she thought, an angry tightness in her chest.
    Still, the feeble interest George was now displaying was greater than she could remember his evincing upon any other recent occasion. Had her jobation of the other evening provoked some results after all?
    Whatever the cause, George had definitely set himself to be pleasant. After speaking with Papa, he took a few minutes to tease Althea, who couldn’t seem to decide whether to be flattered or annoyed