Miss Merton's Last Hope by Heather Boyd Page B

absence from the festivities. If only she had come, he would not be the target of a marriage-minded miss. “Yes, I’ve traveled all over, but I prefer Brighton.”
    “And London, I hope.” The woman giggled and glanced across to her parents. The family lived most of the year in London, from what he could tell, and it was becoming blatantly obvious where she was attempting to lead the discussion. If he hinted he visited the capital on occasion then an invitation to call on them would undoubtedly be extended.
    He shrugged. “I’ve no need for London.”
    Given the strength of the sigh that followed, Walter assumed the girl was disappointed in him but he didn’t care.
    He was the only single man at this dinner. Miss Lane the only one unmarried. He was highly sick of the matchmaking attempts. Soon, if he had his way, he would not have to endure such indignities.
    He knew his own mind.
    He was decided on Melanie for a wife, and no amount of flirtatious looks from young Miss Lane would ever persuade him to give up what he wanted so easily. It would take time, but he was sure he could change her mind. She’d changed it once to allow him to kiss her, and the rest would surely come eventually if he did not rush her into a situation that went against her morals.
    Luckily he was possessed with abundant patience.
    The meal ended and, to his relief, the women filed out for the drawing room soon after. Miss Lane threw a swift smile over her shoulder as she stepped across the threshold. Although it was his brother-in-law’s duty, Walter stood immediately to serve port. He needed the drink to brace himself for what remained of the evening.
    Peter sidled up to him. “What did you think of Miss Lane?”
    He tossed back the contents of his glass and continued pouring for everyone else. “What’s to consider?”
    He shared the glasses around and then made himself comfortable for some peace, quiet and preferably masculine conversation.
    Miss Lane’s father, now with port in hand, raised it in a toast. “To the ladies.”
    “To our ladies,” Peter murmured before setting his glass aside.
    Mr. Lane thought himself something of a poet, and knowing he had a captive audience, began to quote his work out loud. Walter’s friends clapped respectfully and then turned the conversation to local events. He was praised for his assistance to Mrs. Clemens then Peter leaned close. “I must warn you. If you have not noticed, the ladies have it in their heads to find you a wife.”
    Walter paused with his drink halfway to his lips. “That would be a mistake.”
    “Imogen thought so too at first, but I fear Mrs. Hawke and Mrs. Merton have convinced her you just need to meet the right woman.”
    He’d met her when he was ten years old. He took a long sip of his drink and shook his head at the astonishing idea.
    He glanced across at Valentine Merton, noting the man was deep in his own thoughts again. Valentine had been that way all night and he was puzzled by it. Even Julia had been quiet enough during dinner to make him concerned. Was something wrong between the newlyweds again?
    Walter moved toward Valentine. “What’s the matter?”
    The man considered his answer a long time before he said, “My sister wants to leave Brighton.”
    “She might have mentioned something of that nature in passing, I think.” He’d not believed her serious about it though.
    Valentine sipped his port then grimaced. “She set a date. Friday.”
    Walter was left reeling by the news he only had two more days to see her. “You couldn’t change her mind?”
    “I’ve never been very good at that.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “She’s like a dog with a bone when she makes a decision. Even more so when I don’t like it.”
    “I see.”
    Stubborn woman. Her mind had to change or they’d both be miserable alone.
    He accepted another drink as he pondered how convincing her to stay might be accomplished. Short of compromising her, he was left with