“It would be very rude of us if we only talked among ourselves,” Adeline offered timidly, looking past Vanessa. She spotted Hugh Talverton’s tall figure and threw him a speaking glance.
As luck would have it, Hugh was looking in their direction and Adeline caught his attention. He was surprised by her ardent look of entreaty and casually started toward her, absently making his excuses to those he was talking with. He took but a few steps when he spied Vanessa’s glossy brown hair near Mr. Wilmot. His sandy brows lowered, and his eyes narrowed as he made his way toward them.
From his position amid a group of plantation owners gathered near the fireplace, Trevor Danielson also saw Wilmot and Vanessa. He bowed out of the group, edged around several women settled on a sofa, and approached his friends.
Inexorably, Trevor and Hugh made their way from opposite ends of the room to Vanessa’s side, each determined to rescue her from any unnecessary unpleasantness.
’‘I have been waiting for days to speak to you, and surely you would be forgiven a small conversation with a suitor,” Mr. Wilmot coaxed, not quite able to keep the undercurrent of threat removed from his voice.
“Suitor! La, sir, you take me by surprise,” she returned airily, hiding behind her fan, though her hand shook tellingly.
“Don’t take me for a fool!” he said harshly, his face darkening and his voice rasping against her nerve endings. Then his face relaxed, and he spoke softly, winningly. “You must know, Miss Mannion, of my heartfelt intentions.”
“Sir, you put me to the blush. Not now, please,” she pleaded, stepping back a pace. Around her, she noted people beginning to turn and stare.
Trevor and Hugh both saw the little retreat and the blush staining her cheeks, and each grimly began formulating a comment to interrupt and cut through the tension between Vanessa and Wilmot. Unfortunately, their mutual immediate reactions were not to do it with joviality.
Adeline saw them both, and though daunted by their expressions, she was relieved and turned quickly from one to the other to smile welcome.
"Vanessa!"
Vanessa snapped her head up and glanced away from Wilmot with some little relief.
“Vanessa!” called Paulette enthusiastically, waving her hand to catch her friend’s attention as she plowed through the people around her with a devastatingly handsome young man in her wake.
Shocked gasps were heard at the hoydenish impropriety of her call, soon followed by a surge of rapid, scandalized French from those same souls. Paulette ignored them all.
“Vanessa! Here is someone I wish you to meet. You, too, Adeline,” she added gaily. She pulled the young man to her side, clasping her hand possessively around his forearm. “This is the Comte Andre Baligny de Sachire. He has been telling me the most remarkable things about France and hisestates."Her eyes sparkled with mischief, the curls at the side of her face dancing, for she could not be still.
Trevor and Hugh stopped where they stood on either side of Vanessa, wondering how to proceed. They had both worked such malice into their thoughts that it was challenging to reorient their thinking. They glanced up, seeing each other at opposite sides of their goal, and glowered, each realizing the other’s intent and how they might not have been the one to extricate her. Irrational jealousy gripped both as their gazes locked.
“Oh, but where are my manners? Comte, celles-ci Americaines sortt mes amies Mademoiselles Vanessa et Adeline Mannion.”
“Do not feel you must converse in French. I would improve my English, if you please,” the young man said graciously.
Vanessa looked up into his dark, soulful eyes and smiled. He was indeed a handsome man, with his slender build and glossy black waves of hair that allowed one lock to fall and curl across his brow.
“It is a pleasure, Comte Baligny,” she said simply, followed by Adeline. Somehow, she noticed, Paulette had managed to elbow past Mr. Wilmot and edge him out of their circle while Hugh and Trevor edged closer. Mr. Wilmot’s face was a thundercloud. Turning on his heel, he stalked off.
Paulette peeped over her shoulder after him and giggled.
“He was the one?” the Comte asked.
Paulette nodded.
“The one what? What are you about, Paulette?” demanded Vanessa.
“Saving you, of course. You, you do not think I know anything, that my only interest is frivolity.” She smiled smugly and tapped her brow with a forefinger. “But I see much. I know,” she said, nodding her head sagely.
“Egad,” murmured Hugh. “How the deuce, Miss Chaumonde,” he began again, pausing to bow over her hand, “I have wronged you.’
She shrugged whimsically. “Not really, only a little.”
“Be that as it may,” protested Trevor, “we would most likely have made a mull of it.”
“What is this?” demanded Vanessa, suddenly very annoyed. “Does no one think I may take care of myself?” She backed out of the little circle and turned. “If you are all quite through managing my life, I will now find Louisa, as I told Mr. Wilmot I should.” She turned her back on them and walked away, denying the gathering of tears in her eyes with an angry shake of her head and a quick little audible sniff.
“I do not understand,” protested the young Comte Baligny, “did she not wish to be rescued?”
