Lucien closed the distance between them. “Cursing now? How improper.”
Narrowing her eyes, Alexandra backed toward the curtained door. “I’m sure you think that chasing your friend away is the height of hilarity, or that since I’m ruined, you might as well have your amusement.” She lifted her chin. “Or perhaps you don’t care.”
“Do you have a point?”
“Yes, I do. After you see Rose married, I will have to go to one of your peers out there in the ballroom for employment. I’d hoped to prove myself a competent governess, despite the rumors. I will not have you destroying my chances of making a decent living.” With a flounce of her skirts, she turned her back on him. “Good evening, my lord.”
His own anger deflated as she strode back toward the ballroom. “What do you mean, ‘good evening’?” he asked, following her.
“It’s a common expression, my lord, denoting a departure. I’m sure you’re familiar with—”
Alexandra stopped in the doorway, just as Lucien clamped a hand down on her shoulder. His long fingers had the strength of a steel vise, but she was actually grateful for his steadying grip as she caught sight of the figure standing just inside the ballroom.
“Cousin Alexandra.”
Not again, she thought, as Virgil Retting sketched her a shallow, overwrought bow.Not now. She shrugged her shoulder, and Lucien released her. “Virgil. I was just leaving. Good night.”
“What a pity.”
He’d brought friends this time, she realized. A half dozen young men stood ranged behind him, ready to laugh at every witticism he managed to utter at her expense. “Yes, I’m sure you’re heartbroken. Excuse me.”
“But I wanted to dance this next waltz with you, cousin. We so rarely frequent the same establishments. For example, I hardly expected to see you here tonight. I see, though, that you’re still on Kilcairn’s tether.”
She felt Lucien stir behind her. Whatever he said this time would probably mortally wound Virgil; apparently he had already whetted his appetite for mayhem on Miss Beckett this evening. “I would be happy to dance with you, cousin,” she said quickly, before her volcanic-tempered employer could erupt. “I hadn’t realized you wished to socialize with me.”
Her cousin chuckled, glancing back to be certain that he still had an audience. “Well, it’s not socializing, precisely. I try to perform a certain number of charitable deeds each month, and I was one short. Dancing with you will catch me up.”
The gallery laughed, and Alexandra felt her cheeks turn scarlet. She knew exactly what she wanted to say in response; the words had formed almost simultaneously with his vacuous commentary. She clamped her jaw shut and smiled. “As it pleases you, Lord Virgil.”
“I was wondering something, Lord Virgil,” Kilcairn said in a carrying voice from behind her.
“Please don’t,” Alexandra whispered.
Virgil’s smile faltered for a moment. “Wondering what, Kilcairn?”
She felt the earl hesitate. Finally he took her arm, wrapping it over his. “I must decline. Miss Gallant has urged me to be polite.”
“Is that all she’s urged you—”
“And it is obviously impolite to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed man.”
Alexandra breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Lucien did care about how far he went, and what it might cost her. And whether he realized it or not, he had quite possibly just saved her life.
Virgil’s face turned a blustering red. “Kilcairn, you—”
Lucien lifted his free hand. “Take a moment to consider your next words, Lord Virgil. I haveverylimited patience.”
Before Virgil could venture a reply, if he intended to do so, Lord Kilcairn guided her past the gauntlet, which seemed to last the length of the ballroom. She knew she should thank him, or run away, or something, but all she could do was keep her feet moving and grip Lucien’s arm so she wouldn’t stumble.
“Do we have to go home?” Rose asked plaintively, as they rejoined her and Mrs. Delacroix. Alexandra gathered her wits enough to notice that Lord Belton had reappeared beside the girl.
“Yes, we do,” Lucien answered.
“That will never do. Please stay,” Alexandra managed, dropping her hand from his arm and hoping she hadn’t left a bruise. “This is your evening, Miss Delacroix. It was never intended to be mine, for heaven’s sake.”
“Yes, Miss Gallant is right,” Fiona agreed. “Rose’s dance card is full. It would be horribly rude if we had to leave early.”
“You should stay, Lex,” Lady Victoria Fontaine said, as she appeared beside them. She curtsied. “My lords, Mrs. and Miss Delacroix.”
