Pity it wasn’t in a place less civil. Ramsey squeezed his hands into hard fists, fantasizing about the pleasant crunch Westhouse’s nose would make under a solid swing of his fist.
But in society, fighting had to take on a more cloak-and-dagger camouflage.
It was a good thing Ramsey had learned the art well.
Because judging from the expression on Westhouse’s face, they were in for a long night.
Round one, Ramsey thought, watching as Heathcliff turned from beside Miss Grace, noting the approach of each gentleman.
He stiffened at the sight of Lord Westhouse, and as his gaze shifted to Ramsey, he gave the slightest nod.
Ramsey almost felt pity for Westhouse, almost. With two against one, it was hardly a fair fight.
Even if it would never actually come to physical blows.
“Ah, Lord Westhouse,” Miss Grace greeted, causing Ramsey’s hackles to rise.
He should have known.
Miss Grace wouldn’t make this easy on them. No.
He took a deep breath, and closed the distance. “Westhouse,” he all but clipped.
Let the gauntlet be thrown.
“Ah, Sterling,” Westhouse replied in a polite tone that was overlaid with venom, but only those who knew him would have noticed its presence. “Good evening. I’m just collecting Miss Grace for our first dance.” He turned to Grace and offered his hand.
And damn the woman, she took it, turned her back, and walked with him onto the dance floor.
Leaving Ramsey standing beside Heathcliff with a disapproving frown.
“That was unfortunate timing,” Ramsey remarked.
“At least it wasn’t a bloody waltz.”
“That’s mine,” Ramsey replied with a possessive tone. He shook his head.
If Heathcliff noted the tone of his voice, he didn’t offer a response to it.
“In my mind, I saw this scene playing out differently,” Ramsey spoke after a moment.
“Was blood involved?” Heathcliff asked quietly, but with a smile in his voice.”
“A great amount.”
“We were thinking the same thing,” Heathcliff replied. “I need you to come by tomorrow. There was some news that John uncovered and I need to discuss it with you.”
Ramsey nodded, his gaze never leaving the two dancers that had escaped.
“I’ll be there midafternoon.”
“Very well.” Heathcliff paused. “At least he’s getting his dance over with. He can’t ask for more without causing talk and I do think I at least have Grace’s help in that department. She promised that only one dance would be accepted.”
“How did you wrestle such a promise?” Ramsey asked with a little irony in his tone.
“In return, if she cooperated, I promised to tell her about Temptations.” Heathcliff sighed.
Ramsey almost choked. “Dear Lord, what were you thinking?”
