Never Fall for Your Fiancee

“I am so sorry. I did warn you I was clumsy.” The collar and lapels of his coat were awry. They gave her wayward fingers an excuse to touch him as she straightened them, and then their eyes locked.

And held.

As if they had a mind of their own, her palms smoothed his lapels flat, and beneath them she felt his heart beating. Sure and steady but as rapidly as hers. In that second, she realized the heady, magnetic, dangerous pull she felt wasn’t one-sided. He felt it, too.

Why didn’t that worry her? When her attraction to him wasn’t wise?

She watched his eyes drop to her lips before slowly returning to hers in question, felt her body leaning to meet his …

“Hugh?” Beneath her fingers, Minerva felt the muscles in Hugh’s shoulders tense the second he heard the other voice, and he instantly stepped back. “I thought it was you!”

His head whipped around to face a very beautiful blond-haired woman on the arm of a very dashing-looking man, and he smiled. It was an odd smile. A strained one. One that never touched his eyes. “Sarah … Captain Peters … hello … You are back, then?”

“Only temporarily. Teddy has leave and we won’t rejoin his regiment till January.” If the blond woman was aware of Hugh’s discomfort, she didn’t show it. She beamed at him. “But the best news is the regiment is returning to Aldershot in the New Year, so we’ll be permanently stationed in Hampshire and much closer to home. Mother is thrilled.” Hugh looked the exact opposite despite his rigid smile. “She’s missed spoiling her grandchildren.”

“That is excellent news.” He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. To stop fidgeting, he clamped them behind his back. “Excellent.” She had never seen him so awkward. “I trust your mother is well?”

“Indeed she is. We are all in fine fettle.”

“Excellent.” That single word was like a nervous tic. What was it about this woman that made the normally confident Hugh so stilted and uncomfortable? Unless her reckless lapel smoothing had started it? That had been a mistake that she should be grateful had been interrupted—but wasn’t.

“How are you? It’s been … what? Two years since we last collided?” The blonde’s eyes flicked to Minerva with curiosity. “Are you still the merry bachelor about town?”

His eyes finally stopped staring at the blonde to find hers, and that seemed to shake him out of whatever odd place he had gone to. For a moment he seem horrified she was still beside him, then he winced. Minerva had no earthly idea if he was wincing because of her—or the situation.

“Good gracious, where are my manners?” He grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his arm, his hand resting on it possessively— or perhaps he was clinging to it desperately to prove a point? “Allow me to introduce you to my fiancée. Minerva, this is Mrs. Sarah Peters and her husband, Captain Peters. This is Miss Minerva…” He stared at her blankly as if he had forgotten the new alias he had given her.

“Landridge.” She politely inclined her head as Payne had taught her to do with others of a similar rank. Curtsies were for nobles only. The more noble the noble, the deeper the curtsey. Look them in the eye. Smile. Act nonchalant. No mean feat when her mind was whirring. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Captain and Mrs. Peters.”

Now the blond woman who had tied her fake fiancé’s tongue was looking her up and down with interest, and for some reason everything about her, and most importantly the effect she had on Hugh, seemed to grate. Minerva snuggled closer to him as if she were besotted rather than inappropriately flustered by his shoulders and their oddly charged moment before this vixen interrupted it. “We have been engaged these past eighteen months.” And she didn’t care if she sounded proprietary. Fiancées were supposed to be possessive. It was merely part of the act.

“I must have missed the announcement in The Times.”

“There was no announcement.” Finally Hugh seemed to have found his voice. “We’ve managed to keep it quiet. Minerva didn’t want a fuss and she’s not really one for London society. We met out of town when…” He was floundering again. Badly.

“He rescued me from a runaway carriage.” She gazed up at him with what she hoped was adoration rather than what felt alarmingly like the sudden onset of jealousy. “And more recently an uncooperative sidesaddle.” A mishap this graceful and beautiful creature had probably witnessed—alongside the wholly inappropriate and unguarded lapel smoothing. Although now that she thought Minerva was Hugh’s fiancée, that was probably a good thing. Fiancées were allowed to smooth lapels, and she could use it as a believable excuse later if Hugh brought it up, a prospect that already had her toes curling inside her smart new riding boots. Minerva beamed to cover her mortification and tried to remember she was playing a character. “Hugh is my constant knight in shining armor. I would be thoroughly lost without him.”

The awkward silence that followed was dreadful, largely because Minerva got the distinct impression she was the only person out of the four of them who had no idea why it was awkward.