Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress. Kimberly Lang
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is showing great improvement, Evangeline.” Marcus Heatherton wiped his small white beard with a monogrammed napkin and leveled a proud smile at Evie.
Evie brightened as she launched into a spirited rendition of the former Wimbledon winner’s description of her tennis prowess. Gwen lowered her eyes to the table and hid a smile of her own. Evie had Mr. Heatherton eating out of the palm of her hand. A quick glance at Will and his half smile confirmed her thought.
Mrs. Gray had pulled out all the stops for dinner—once she’d finished grumbling, at least. Although the courses were uncomplicated, the food was plated beautifully on gold-rimmed china. The cream linen and the gleaming crystal seemed a bit over the top for a family dinner of salmon and potatoes, but Mrs. Gray had insisted Evie needed the full effect for this evening.
All of Evie’s worries that Mr. Heatherton would find something wrong with her manners seemed to have evaporated. Although she still dominated the conversation a bit more than was correct, she hadn’t interrupted anyone and proved she could tell an entertaining story for her guests.
No question about it. Evie was going to be fine.
Will’s laugh brought her back to the conversation, and she wondered what she’d missed with her woolgathering. Some etiquette tutor she was—mentally wandering away from a conversation was plain rude and she knew better. If only the Harrisons didn’t give her so much to think about.
With Evie, she had an excuse—it was her job to correct, encourage, evaluate and decide what step was next in the run up to Evie’s presence at the Hospital Med Ball. As for Will… well, she had no excuse other than her own unusual fascination with the man. In some ways, he was exactly the man she’d expected—businesslike, busy and often distant. More often than not, she found herself unsure of what to say or do when around him. Plus, she couldn’t decide if his occasional rudeness and incessant BlackBerry usage was deliberate or not.
Regardless, she even found it difficult to follow her cardinal rule of “maintain eye contact,” because staring into Will Harrison’s eyes could turn any woman into brain-dead mush. And if he smiled…Lord, the man should carry a warning label. Plus he could also be kind and funny and completely approachable at times. Like when…
“Gwen?”
She looked up to see everyone watching her. Mr. Heatherton’s frown had returned at her inattention. Evie stared at her openly in mild shock, and Gwen could practically hear her own lecture about attentiveness to others replaying in Evie’s head. Will simply looked amused for some reason. She cleared her throat as she felt her cheeks heat. “I’m so sorry. I was thinking about Evie’s shopping trip tomorrow.”
“Gwen’s sister is a buyer at Neiman Marcus. We’ll be getting my wardrobe up to scratch. What color dress do you think would be most appropriate for the Med Ball, Uncle Marcus?”
“White or pastels, my dear. You’re much too young for anything else. And remember who you are—avoid anything flashy…”
She could kiss Evie for that save. Whatever question Mr. Heatherton had asked her was forgotten as he launched into a lecture on the horrid state of formal wear for young women. Evie was doing an admirable job of hanging on every word like he was the Fashion Oracle of Dallas.
Hearing a small snort of laughter from her right, Gwen looked over to see Will pretending to study his meal carefully. Without making eye contact, he leaned slightly toward her and whispered, “Tsk, tsk, Miss Behavior.”
Buttering her roll kept her from winging it in Will’s direction. Instead she waited until Will looked her way and winked at him. His eyebrows went up in surprise then, to her surprise, she felt his foot nudge hers under the table.
She nudged his foot in response, but Will had focused his attention on Marcus and seemed engrossed in his lecture on the importance of a modest neckline.
When Evie nudged her foot from the other side, Gwen’s head snapped in her direction only to feel Will’s foot reach over hers to nudge Evie’s. She almost laughed out loud. Both Harrisons wore looks of absorbed interest on their faces while they kicked each other under the table like children.
Who knew Will Harrison could be playful enough to foot-fight with his sister under the dinner table? For the sake of Evie’s education, she should put a stop to it, but there was no real harm. Marcus seemed completely unaware.
Another nudge from Will. This time Gwen retaliated more forcefully, only to miss her target and connect with the center table leg instead. Glassware rattled, and Marcus paused midsentence.
Oh, no. The heat returned to her cheeks.
“Sorry, everyone.” Will covered for her smoothly, earning him a frown from Marcus and Gwen’s eternal gratitude.
This was just dandy. She could hear her mother’s voice chiding her for her behavior. Enough was enough. Time for her to remember she was a grown-up and act like one.
She cleared her throat. “Mr. Heatherton, will you be attending the Med Ball this year?”
“Of course, my dear. I try to attend every year, if only to put in an appearance. This year, however, it will be my pleasure to introduce Bradley’s beautiful daughter to friends of the family.” He patted Evie’s hand fondly.
Evie beamed at the indirect acknowledgment of her social skills, but Marcus moved on.
“And you, William, will you be escorting Grace Myerly?”
Evie’s eyes were as wide as Gwen’s felt as they both looked at Will, who seemed to be having difficulty swallowing his salmon all of a sudden. Gwen thought she was up-to-date on all the society doings just by listening to her debs’ conversations, but she didn’t recall hearing Will’s name connected to the great paragon Grace Myerly before.
“No, Grace and I aren’t seeing each other any longer.”
“That’s a shame. You made such a lovely couple, and your families go way back.”
She was still processing the Will and Grace connection when Mr. Heatherton turned his attention to her.
“Gwen, you know the Myerly family don’t you?”
Gwen sat up straight. “Yes, I do. Not socially, of course, but both of the younger Myerly girls were in my debutante classes several years ago.”
“Of course. Lovely girls, both of them.”
If you say so. Personally Gwen felt the youngest Myerlys were spoiled, self-absorbed brats who’d made her classes hell for all involved. The older Myerlys hadn’t helped the situation with their own self-important attitude. She was glad there weren’t any other Myerly children at home ready to debut.
She nodded instead. “I haven’t met Grace before, although I do know who she is.” Everyone knew Grace Myerly. The woman was constantly in the papers for her charity work and her fabulous parties. Tall, willowy, gorgeous and seemingly gracious, she was the epitome of Southern high class and, by all standards, the perfect type of woman for Will.
Something unpleasant coiled in her stomach.
“Why don’t you take Gwen, Will?” Evie piped up with that idea, sending Marcus’s fork clattering to his plate. Will froze, his eyes locking on Gwen’s face with a “Fix This” look, but she was too busy choking on her wine to do anything.
Evie, however, was oblivious to the change in atmosphere. “That way, Gwen can help keep me from messing up, and you won’t have to deal with—what did you call it?—‘the desperate cling of ageing socialites.’” When no one spoke, Evie looked at each face closely. “What? What’s the problem?”
Evie looked genuinely confused. Will wanted to help, but wasn’t sure he knew where to start. Marcus looked horrified, and Will knew at any moment Marcus would say something snobbish or classist and make the situation worse.
The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked in the silence as tears gathered in the corners