But Hugh knew he could not.
*
Lark wanted adrink.
He snared a glass of champagne as it went by on a tray, but as he tasted it, he remembered that the Wakefields watered down their wine. He sighed and downed it anyway.
Adele and Fletcher were engaged in conversation about some novel they had both read recently. Fletcher seemed to be succumbing to her charms. Not in a way that would anger Hugh, of course, but more Fletcher was beginning to see what Hugh saw in her. Lark found her quite charming as well. She was intelligent and kind and had no ulterior motive, which was refreshing.
“Who is the woman Hugh is dancing with?” Lady Adele asked Fletcher.
“Lady Eugenia Sackville.”
“She’s pretty,” said Adele.
“She’s a monster,” said Lark. “The old Hugh detested her. One of the worst gossips in theton.”
“That is saying something coming from Lark,” said Fletcher. “I would not feel jealous, my lady. I am certain Hugh is dancing with her to appease his mother.”
“What makes you think I am jealous?”
“The expression on your face,” said Lark. He sighed. “I believe you are much on his mind.”
“True,” said Fletcher. “He sent me to make sure you knew he wanted to see you again.”
“But to what end?” she asked. “Will he cease being a duke?”
Lark appreciated her understanding of the reality of the situation. Hugh was too besotted and used to getting his way to understand that this would not end as he expected it to. But Adele knew her place in the world. Lark did not see much wisdom in letting them pine after each other, although he supposed it was too late now.
Adele frowned. “He sent you to protect me, didn’t he?”
Fletcher shrugged.
“I suppose that is significant,” she said. “It does not change our circumstances, though.”
Lark spotted Anthony walk across the room. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
Fletcher engaged Adele in conversation while Lark went after Anthony. He found Anthony amiably greeting Lord Wakefield. When Wakefield moved on to greet another guest, Lark approached.
“You sought me out this time,” Anthony said.
“I wanted to greet you.”
“Until three weeks ago, you acted annoyed that I was even in your presence, and yet now you come to say hello like we are good friends.”
“Are we not good friends? Are you irritated with me?”
Anthony smiled. “No, not at all. Just making an observation.” He motioned for Lark to follow him and they left the ballroom and entered a hallway. A few other men were about, which led Lark to conclude that Wakefield had set up a room for cigars and cards down this way. Indeed, the Marquess of Blandford passed Lark and entered the room down the hall. He was greeted by a masculine cheer and then the door was closed again.
Lark sighed. “I would very much like to leave this place, but I think I may need to keep an eye on the object of Hugh’s affection.”
“Canbury’s daughter?”
“Indeed.”
“I saw them dance together earlier.” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “You know, you never told me exactly what happened while Hugh convalesced.”
Lark cursed. He hadn’t intended to divulge Hugh’s secrets to Anthony—whom he trusted, but whose tongue wagged more than Eugenia Sackville’s—but he’d let his guard down.
