Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) by Dorothy Elbury, Gail Ranstrom Page B

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    Hortense laughed. “She means Andrew Hunter, Gina. That was our pet name for him until your sister domesticated him.”
    She smiled. “Yes, then. Isabella married Mr. Hunter and they seem quite content.”
    Miss Metcalfe sighed as she fanned herself. “That gives the rest of us hope, then. If he succumbed to the parson’smousetrap, there can be hope that one of us might yet snare James or Charles Hunter.”
    “I…I wouldn’t know, Miss Metcalfe.”
    “Yet I saw you dance with James,” she said, almost like an accusation. “That is, until he sneaked you out to the garden.”
    Gina was taken aback by the woman’s bluntness. “He was doing his duty to me, Miss Metcalfe. And reminding me to mind my manners.”
    Miss Metcalfe fell silent after Gina’s rejoinder and Hortense introduced her companion. “Miss O’Rourke, may I present Mr. Adam Booth? Mr. Booth, please meet Miss O’Rourke.”
    The man bent over her hand and a flicker of something passed through his eyes as he straightened and met her gaze. “Have we met, Miss O’Rourke? I could swear I’ve seen those remarkable eyes before.”
    He’d been at the tableau. Had he been at the ritual? She slowly withdrew her hand from his and forced a smile. “You are too kind, Mr. Booth. I doubt we have met since I have not been much in society. In any case, I am certain I’d have remembered a gentleman as handsome as you.”
    He grinned and the tension went out of his posture. “Well, I shan’t forget you again, Miss O’Rourke. Alas, I must be off to meet friends but I pray you will save me a dance ‘til the next time we meet.” He bowed over her hand.
    She gave him a stiff smile. Had there been something familiar in his request, or was she being overly sensitive? “I shall look forward to it, Mr. Booth.”
    Alone now, the ladies proceeded to discuss Mr. Booth and his various attributes—the width of his shoulders, the color of his gray-blue eyes, the size of his…bank account. Gina relaxed, the conversation so similar to those she’d had with her sisters long before any of them married.
    “And you, Miss O’Rourke? Who do you prefer?” Miss Race asked.
    “I am far too new to the scene to have a preference,” she said, though Jamie Hunter’s face came to mind.
    “My dear,” Harriett said, “I know just what you mean. Why, if Miss Race hadn’t already taken Mr. Metcalfe, I might cast my cap in that direction.”
    Gina seized that opportunity. “When am I to meet Mr. Metcalfe?”
    Missy Metcalfe rolled her eyes heavenward. “I can’t imagine where he’s been keeping himself. Between his friends and his club, we scarcely see him at home anymore. Why, Christina sees him more than we.”
    They all turned to Miss Race for confirmation.
    “I, uh, did see him earlier tonight. I believe he said he was gambling with a few of his friends.”
    “Men,” Hortense said, as if that explained everything.
    Miss Race drew herself up as if she’d made a sudden decision. “Accompany me to the ladies’ retiring room, Miss O’Rourke? I’d love to hear about your native land. I’ve never been to Ireland, though Stanley and I have discussed taking our wedding trip there.” She linked arms with Gina, leading her away from the group.
    When they were out of hearing, Miss Race pulled Gina into a private corner. “I must thank you for not giving me away. I saw that you recognized me, too, and I prayed you would not mention it to the others.”
    Gina gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’d have had to give myself away, Miss Race, and I was not about to do that.”
    “Call me Christina,” she said before rushing on. “And I want to assure you that I do not frequent such places as the one where we first met. Stanley had been invited by some of his friends and did not understand the sort of…affair it was to be, or he swears he never would have taken me. And I …
    well, I could see that you were not accustomed to such things either.”
    “I had never