The baron retrieved the necklace from his pocket and held the diamonds in his hand, stroking the gems.“I overheard you speaking to your father about me.”
Hannah’s heartbeat quickened, and she cast a glance around the garden, searching for another escape.“Wh-what did you overhear?”
“You lied to me.”Cold anger edged his voice.“You led me to believe you wanted my courtship.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” she explained.His anger made her uncomfortable, and she was ready to get away from him.The necklace be hanged.Her safety was far more important than a strand of diamonds.With an apologetic look, she added, “I’ll send a servant to collect my necklace from you.”
“What’s the matter?Are you afraid of me?”he murmured.
Hannah ignored the question and picked up her skirts, striding toward the house.Before she could reach the terrace, a firm hand clamped over her upper arm.
“I haven’t finished our conversation.”
“We weren’t having one,” she corrected.“And I’ll ask you to remove your hand from my arm.”
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?Because your father is a marquess and I, a mere baron.”He bent closer, and her stomach wrenched, the pressure in her head rising higher.
Dear heaven, she felt like fainting.The headache was like a dagger grinding into her skull.
She opened her mouth to call for help, but Lord Belgrave cut off her scream.She struggled against his grip, but he pinched her nose.With the lack of air, the headache roared into a fury.Dizzy and sick, she stopped fighting, and he dragged her across the gravel.Nausea gripped her, and the agony in her head was so intense, it nearly brought her to her knees.It couldn’t have come at a worse time.
The baron lowered his voice.“You said that any woman would be fortunate to wed me.”He drew so close, Hannah could see the vengeance in his eyes.“It looks like you’re about to become very fortunate indeed.”
Chapter Two
Michaelreturnedtotheballroom, his posture stiff with anger.Lady Hannah had all but accused him of stealing her diamonds.He might be poor, but he wasn’t a thief.Yet she wouldn’t believe that, would she?Her blush had revealed how she viewed him: as a low-born man, a soldier who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of a lady.
True, he had a weakness for beautiful women.But never if they were unwilling.And that was the curious part, wasn’t it?He’d dared to touch Lady Hannah...and she hadn’t protested.The aristocrat with impeccable manners hadn’t slapped him with her fan or called out for help.She’d leaned into his touch, as though she were thirsty for it.
God, she’d smelled good.Like seductive jasmine, haunting and sweet.He hadn’t been able to resist her.He’d wanted to run his mouth over her neck, sliding the ivory gown over those bare shoulders until he revealed more of her delicate skin.But if he had, her brother would have murdered him where he stood.
Normally, Michael had no interest in husband-seeking innocents, but Lady Hannah captivated him.He didn’t for a moment believe that she would cast him a second glance.Not only because of her suspicions about the necklace, but also because of his status.As a lieutenant, he wasn’t worthy of a woman like her.
He had no title, unlike the other officers who had bought their commissions.He’d been granted his own commission within the British Army as a gift from the Earl of Whitmore, after he’d saved the earl’s life five years ago.And last October he’d learned what it meant to give a command, knowing that men would die because of it.
Michael had tried to save whatever men he could after his captain had died at Balaclava.But he’d failed to protect the vast majority of his company.Of the six hundred, less than two hundred had returned.He’d been one of them.
Even now, he could still hear the bullets ripping through flesh, the moans that preceded death.He couldn’t erase the nightmares, no matter how hard he tried.A lump tightened in the back of his throat, and he went to get another drink.As he passed the entrance to the terrace, he wondered if he should check on Lady Hannah.
Though she wanted to find her diamonds, she was far too lovely to be venturing out alone.She needed someone to protect her from unsavory men.
Before he could follow her, a gentleman stepped into his line of sight, clearing his throat.He was accompanied by Hannah’s brother Stephen Chesterfield, the Earl of Whitmore.
“Forgive me, Thorpe, but there is someone I’d like you to meet.”
The older man wore a black cloth tailcoat, expertly tailored to his form.His salt-and-pepper beard and mustache were neatly groomed, while the rest of his head was bald.Gold glinted upon the handle of his cane, and every inch of the gentleman spoke of money.Idly, Michael wondered if the man wanted a personal guard.
“This is a friend of my father’s,” Stephen said.“Graf Heinrich von Reischor, the Lohenberg ambassador to England.”
Lohenberg.Uneasiness slipped over him like a gust of cold air.The mention of the country provoked a distant memory he couldn’t quite grasp.His mouth tightened, and he forced himself to concentrate on the gentleman standing in front of him.
Whitmore finished the introduction, and Michael wondered if he was expected to bow before an ambassador.He settled upon a polite nod.
Graf von Reischor leaned upon his cane.“Thank you, Lord Whitmore.I am most grateful for the introduction.If you will excuse us?”The earl nodded to both of them and departed.
Now what was this all about?Michael wondered.The Lohenberg Graf fixed his gaze upon him in an open stare, as though he were intrigued by what he saw.Then the man lowered his voice and spoke an unfamiliar language, one that sounded like a blend of German and Danish.
Michael wondered if he was supposed to understand the words, but he could do nothing but shake his head in ignorance.
