Beguiling Bridget (Waltzing with the Wallflower #2)(28)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Bravo!” A man clapped, and Anthony turned to see Ambrose chuckling and clapping like a fool while Wilde stood beside him with his arms across his chest, scowling with an inordinate passion.

The abrupt outbreak brought Anthony spiraling back into reality, and he remembered where he was. With a sheepish nod at his brother, he escorted a flushed Bridget off the floor.

Lady Burnside stormed toward them, fire in her eyes as well as anger etched across her weathered face. “You!” She poked Anthony in the chest. “How dare you ruin her! And right here in front of everyone! Without announcing your intention to marry her! After what I saw! And that footman! Well, I—”

“You are mistaken, Aunt,” Bridget interrupted smoothly. “There was no footman.”

“Do not presume to tell me, girl!”

“I beg your pardon, Aunt Latissia. I suppose in one sense there was a footman, but it was not a man.”

Lady Latisssia’s eyes bulged. “I know what I saw!”

“Perhaps,” Anthony offered, mainly because he couldn’t help it, “it would be well to have your sight checked, my lady. After all, in such advanced age, one should be careful to stay healthy and,” he cleared his throat, “astute.”

Bridget planted a sharp elbow squarely in his ribs.

Lady Burnside grew crimson and stormed away.

“Congratulations, my dear.” Bridget’s uncle approached and offered his hand. “I will expect you first thing in the morning, Maddox.”

Anthony smiled warmly as he shook the offered hand. “Of course, Lord Burnside. I look forward to it.”

“Well then, I’m off to look after my wife’s health. No doubt she’s having a fit of the vapors.”

“No doubt,” Anthony mumbled under his breath. “Bridget?” He offered his arm and made quick work of guiding her outside near the gardens.

The memory of his first botched proposal to Cordelia haunted him. It had gone so horribly wrong. He hoped to make this one a vast improvement. Perhaps ride a white stallion through double doors and proclaim his undying love. Certainly Bridget deserved more than Please consider me an alternative to perpetual virginity. Botched proposals seemed to be his forte.

In retrospect, he counted himself fortunate that Cordelia hadn’t slapped him across the face in that first occurrence. Although in Anthony’s defense, his plan to push her into his brother’s arms had worked brilliantly.

Yet, as he faced Bridget now and moonlight danced across her face, he was overcome with terror that he was about to make a blunder of himself once more. He cleared his throat.

“Bridget.” He grasped her hands and took another deep breath.

A small insect chose that inopportune time to fly into his mouth, sending him into a coughing fit and nearly to his knees.

“Heavens! Anthony, are you all right?” Bridget pounded him squarely on the back several times before he was able to speak.

And when words finally did pour forth, they were hoarse and awkward.

“As I was saying…” He coughed again. “Br—”

His mind went completely blank. What was her name? Anthony blinked a few times and tried again. “Bri—”

Was it Brittany? Brisket? He was so nervous he couldn’t remember his own name let alone hers!

“Do you need to sit down?” She gave him a breathtaking smile and patted his hand like a mother would a small boy.

“No!” Anthony braced her shoulders. “I’m going to do this! It will be proper and romantic, and you shall cry. Women always cry, don’t they? In a good way? When a gentleman professes his love and quotes that dolt Byron? Perhaps I should take a knee. Yes, yes, that’s it!” Anthony coughed again and knelt in front of Bridget.

Ha! He remembered her name!

“Dearest B—”

Curse him to perdition! He had just had her name! How was it possible to forget it already?

His shoulders slumped. “In my head, this went much better.”

Perhaps he was capable of having two horrid proposals in the span of a year.

“Pardon?” Bridget tilted her head, an amused smile gracing her lips.

“Truly, just last year, when I proposed to Cordelia—” Blast. Had he said that aloud? Bridget lifted a quizzical brow. Anthony cursed and tried to make it better. “But it was only a ruse, you see? It didn’t truly mean anything. After all, it was only in order to force Ambrose’s hand.”

“Let me see if I understand. You proposed marriage to your brother’s wife last year?”

When she put it that way, it sounded dreadful. “It was heroic! Even if I did run into her, and she did manage to fall and ruin her dress, among other things. And you cannot imagine the ruckus it caused when Ambrose happened upon us in such a state of…” Anthony cursed aloud. Wasn’t he supposed to be proposing? Not regaling her with tales of his romantic failures?

“This is different. You are different,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know. How could I have known that the one girl to steal my heart and the breath straight from my lungs would be the very one I had no chance — no hope of gaining.”

He stood and leaned in close to cup her face in his gloved hand, hoping she couldn’t sense the perspiration drenching them in his angst. “I’m an idiot. It’s a known fact, just ask Ambrose.” He let out a loud ragged sigh. “But I’m an idiot in love with the most intelligent, beautiful, and infuriating woman I have ever come across.”

Bridget swiped at a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Will you do the honor of becoming my wife? Idiot though I may be?”

“Bravo!” Ambrose interrupted the beautiful moment, clapping his hands. “Such believable gusto in your acting, brother. To think you would go to this extent to win a stupid bet is beyond me.”

“Ambrose?” Anthony groaned. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving this poor girl from heartache!” Ambrose looked like he was ready to punch Anthony in the face. His eyebrows furrowed — always a bad sign — and his lips were in a firm line, proving he was very cross.

“And how were you planning to do that, brother?”

“I shall inform Lady Bridget of the bet!” Ambrose roared. “She doesn’t deserve this treatment, Anthony, and you know it.”

Poor sod. Anthony should have notified his brother where his true affections lay, but Ambrose was doing such a lovely job of making a complete fool of himself that Anthony couldn’t bring himself to step in with the truth.