Had she made a sound? A movement toward him? Suddenly he was watching her. His eyebrow raised. His eyes, showing green even in the dim light, were shades warmer than jade, yet just as sharp and glittering.
“I chose this blend of tobacco to drive people away,” he said casually.
She raised her chin. “Yes. I worked that out, all on my own.”
“And yet, here you still are.” The words were rude and dismissive. But the voice? It sent a shiver fluttering through her. Dark, smooth and textured with just the slightest rasp.
“Apologies, but I was so very busy cataloguing all the other ways you were telling me to go away.”
That gave him pause. The brow went up again, expectant. And his fingers began to beat a rhythm against his thigh, one finger at a time.
Fascinating.
“Your stance,” she began. “The pointed way you gave me your back. The stiffness of your spine. The way your shoulders have lifted high.” She shrugged. “That’s all I meant.”
“I had no idea I was communicating in so many ways.” He stared. “And no idea why you did not heed any of them.”
“Oh, I was about to.” Her lip curled. “That thing truly is vile. But then I saw you partake of it . . . and I was caught.”
“Caught? By?”
“By what you were saying with that cheroot.”
He blinked. “What was I saying?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.” She tilted her head and ran a bold gaze over him. “You pulled it into your lungs like it was going to bring all the answers to the mysteries of the universe with it—and then you looked at it as you exhaled—as if you were disgusted and perhaps a little despondent that it did not.”
“The hell you say,” he said blankly. “I’ve never looked despondent a day in my life.”
She lifted a shoulder. “You might think so, but most people have no idea about the messages they send with the position and movement of their bodies. It’s a whole other language, and it is fascinating. I’ve made somewhat of a study of it.”
He gave a grunt of disapproval. “Bad enough that you should take up such a hobby. Hardly fitting for a young girl. Worse still that you should speak of it openly.” He blew another cloud. “Are you not on the marriage mart? Such talk will do you no good there.”
“I am,” she said with a sigh. “But that is why you are likely theonlyperson I can discuss it with. For I must marry, and you will not.”
His shoulders relaxed and came down a bit. She refrained from pointing it out.
“Oh, well. Good,” he said. “As long as you realize my stance on such matters.” He shuddered. “Marriage is a pit, waiting for you to fall into it. And once you’re in, you are trapped in the farce. Oh, it might be well enough in the beginning, but eventually it all sours and there you are, putting a good face on it in company and wallowing in your misery when alone.” He straightened suddenly and frowned. “But wait. You already knew how I felt? How did you know it?”
“That you don’t wish to marry? Everyone knows it. It is what they say when they speak of you.” She laughed a little. “Presumably because of speeches like that one.”
He didn’t respond and she examined him closely. “My lord, did you not know? You havenicknames.”
“Do I, by God?” He glared at the crowd through the windows. “Damnation, but the lot of them are worse than I thought—and that is no small achievement.” Abruptly, he shifted his gaze and pointed the glare at her. “What are they? These nicknames? Wait. No.” He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I don’t wish to know.” He tossed his cheroot over the balustrade. “What about you, my bold young miss? Do you have a nickname?”
She laughed. “Heavens, no. I’ve scarcely found anyone interested in knowing my real name.” She glanced toward the windows herself. “But I suspect I had better get back inside before people notice I am out here with you—or I might gain exactly the wrong sort of notice.” Closing her fan with a snap, she gave him a nod. “Good evening, my lord. I wish you the best of luck with your . . . avoidance.”
She’d just reached the door when he spoke. “Hold a moment. You don’t wish to miss a chance to have at least one more person in Society to know your name, do you?”
Her mouth twisted. “Much good it will do me,” she said as she turned and gave him a very correct curtsy. “I am Miss Mayne, my lord. It has been very, ah, interesting, to make your acquaintance. Good night.”
