The Match of the Century Read Online Free Page B

just witnessed a clash of Titans.
    And the row didn’t seem to bother Baynton at all. He’d returned to the eager man he’d been before Ben’s intrusion. He even stopped at the top of the stairs and pulled the pearls from his pocket. “May I?” he asked.
    Elin dutifully allowed him to fasten the strand around her throat.
    “Beautiful,” he murmured. He raised his gaze from the necklace to her face. “You are beautiful.” He leaned forward as if to kiss her again, and Elin felt a moment of panic.
    What if Ben came out into the hall? What would he think?
    Why should she care?
    “Ben is very angry,” she heard herself say.
    Gavin pulled back, concern crossing his face. “I’m sorry you witnessed the argument. My brother is headstrong.”
    “So are you.”
    Her comment appeared to startle him, then he laughed. “I was told you speak your mind. I don’t mind that. Don’t worry about Ben. He will come to his senses.” He spoke with confidence.
    Elin wasn’t so certain.
    “Your Grace, are you ever coming down?” a laughing male voice called. It was echoed by several others who were crushed into the front hall, waiting for their turn at the receiving line. Elin and the duke’s presence at the top of the stairs had been detected.
    Gavin knew who had called out. Taking Elin’s arm and escorting her down, he said, “I can’t believe you would begrudge a man a sweet moment when he has a lovely woman on his arm, Rovington.” Lord Rovington was one of Baynton’s closest friends.
    Elin blushed at the compliment, yet felt ill at ease. She’d never been one who craved attention. Now, all eyes were on her as they reached the lower stairs. She could feel them evaluating the truth of his claim. Was she lovely? Even pretty? Elin could see the verdict in the side glances the women cast toward each other.
    Baynton was immediately swamped by his guests, who included all the most important people in government and society. They came at him from all sides, wanting his attention.
    Even during the receiving line, they pressed him with concerns, using this opportunity for their own purposes. He handled them effortlessly. He remembered names and graciously included Elin in conversations. Of course, sometimes, he used her as a foil to move certain people on their way.
    She understood her role. She smiled and nodded. This was the part of Society she did not enjoy. It felt superficial. Her mother had chided her for expecting too much, and perhaps she did.
    However, in truth, Elin had never minded the country dances in her parish back in Heartwood, but a London ballroom was different. She’d learned that during her first season. While her parents might thrive on the press of people in Town and the opportunities presented, Elin fought an urge to hide . . . especially this evening.
    Many of the smiles directed at her were not sincere, especially those from marriageable young women who would have adored catching a prize like Baynton. Even the daughters of her cousin Robbie Morris, who served as her father’s secretary, could not hide their envy.
    It was a bit overwhelming.
    Elin’s smile began to feel plastered to her face. She couldn’t relax because guests kept coming through the door.
    Finally, thankfully, Marcella whispered in Gavin’s ear. He excused himself from the receiving line. “We must start the dancing,” he apologized to those who had not yet gone through the line. He took Elin’s hand.
    Her heart pounding, she followed him to the dance floor. Other couples quickly helped make up the pattern, and, at Baynton’s signal, the musicians began playing.
    Elin had practiced for this moment, months, weeks, hours of practice. Her dancing master had declared it would be nice if the duke could just once join them in their lessons. That had not been possible. Baynton was too busy for something as frivolous as a dance lesson.
    However, he quickly demonstrated he didn’t need the lessons. He had the gift of athletic grace