Bedding Lord Ned by Sally Mackenzie Page A

fine-boned with perfect features, silver blond hair, and large, long-lashed, deep blue eyes. She looked very much like Cicely, only perhaps prettier, and at the moment she was gazing at Ned as though he were a god.
    And he was looking at her as if she were the answer to his prayers.
    Damn.
    Ellie glanced at the duchess, sitting to Ned’s left. If her grace were Sir Reginald, she’d be purring.
    Ellie gritted her teeth. “Did the snow make your travel difficult?” she asked Mr. Cox again. She was clearly wasting her time with him—he was besotted with Lady Juliet. She should pursue Mr. Humphrey instead.
    Her stomach knotted.
    She reminded her stomach she was already twenty-six years old. She wanted children.
    Squinty-eyed little mole children?
    Ahh.
    No wonder she had no appetite.
    â€œNot at all.” Mr. Cox had finally managed to tear his eyes away from the object of his affections. He bent his lips into a polite smile that didn’t even begin to reach his eyes. “I rode down on horseback. I found the cold and snow rather ...”—he glanced back at Lady Juliet as if he couldn’t help himself—“appropriate.”
    â€œYes, it is February, isn’t it? I suppose we should expect winter weather.”
    That profound observation did not require a reply; Mr. Cox merely nodded.
    She should definitely concentrate on Mr. Humphrey. There must be something appealing about him or he wouldn’t have been invited ... unless the duchess recognized Ellie was past her prayers and should be ecstatically grateful to wed any male willing to have her.
    Which Mr. Cox, no matter how physically attractive, wasn’t. Had her grace not been aware of the man’s feelings? He was looking back at Lady Juliet again.
    She must have been—the Duchess of Love was awake on all suits. Therefore, there must be some impediment keeping Lady Juliet and Mr. Cox from marrying, though if there was, it seemed rather cruel to dangle the unattainable under the man’s nose.
    Hmm, Lady Juliet was ignoring him; perhaps that was the problem—that she didn’t return his regard, a sadly common problem at this party. If so, Mr. Cox might be willing to take Ellie as his second choice. Not a very palatable thought, true, but then he was her second choice as well. And odds were his children would be vastly more attractive than Mr. Humphrey’s.
    â€œBut snow is much pleasanter than rain and mud,” her grace said, turning her attention their way and reviving the weather topic. “Don’t you agree, sir? It’s so much prettier and far more entertaining. Ellie and I were just saying that earlier today, weren’t we, Ellie?”
    Oh dear, Ned’s mother had that mischievous gleam in her eyes again. “I believe you were saying so, your grace.”
    â€œOf course I was.” The duchess leaned closer and waggled her brows. “I ask you, sir, what could be better than slipping through the quiet snow with”—she transferred her gaze to Ellie—“a beautiful lady snug under a pile of furs?”
    Ellie was going to expire of mortification, falling nose first into the roast hare Thomas had just placed in front of her. One would think the Duchess of Love would have more finesse. At least Mr. Cox appeared to be taking the woman’s heavy-handed efforts in good spirit.
    â€œI can’t think of a thing, your grace.” His pleasant tone sounded as forced as his smile, but at least he was making an effort to be sociable.
    â€œSplendid.” The duchess beamed at him and then at Ellie. “We shall get our two horse-drawn sleighs out as soon as the snow has stopped. And we have sledges, too, for the intrepid among you, and a lovely sledding hill”—she turned toward her son—“isn’t that right, Ned?”
    Ned looked up—clearly with great reluctance—from his conversation with Lady Juliet. “Isn’t what right,