“My lovely sister-in-law is always welcome.” Lucas gave a slight bow, grinning in the direction of Samantha, who was in conversation with Lady Greywick.
“Now, back to the issue at hand. Why are you so bloody late?” Heathcliff turned to Ramsey.
Ramsey had focused his gaze back on the dance floor and was searching for Grace. He could only catch a glimpse of her back, but his eyes greedily trailed down the length of her spine, his hands tingling with the memory of her curves within his grasp.
“Ramsey?” Heathcliff’s voice interrupted his rather scandalous thoughts.
“Pardon?” Ramsey turned to Heathcliff.
Lucas snickered.
Ramsey shot him a glare that silently commanded him to shut up.
Lucas chuckled louder.
Bloody brilliant.
“So?” Heathcliff asked rather impatiently.
“So, what?” Ramsey asked, tugging on his coat sleeves; damn it was hot in there.
Heathcliff tipped his chin to the side and studied his friend. “Have you been into the brandy early?”
“What? No. It’s bloody hot in here.”
“I’m sure it is,” Lucas murmured just over his glass of champagne.
“Where have you been? I ask again because clearly you didn’t hear the first two inquiries.”
“Oh, that. Interesting. I’d think you’d be wanting to convey some rather interesting information.”
At this, Heathcliff stilled, his eyes narrowing with intelligence and he leaned forward. “You saw John.”
Ramsey gave a curt nod.
“Before I ask how, the more important question is how you’re dealing with the information,” Heathcliff whispered.
Lucas moved into the close confederacy and his expression was one of understanding. Apparently, Heathcliff had communicated the knowledge to Lucas.
“I’m still processing it.” Ramsey swallowed.
“Understandable,” Lucas remarked. “What I don’t understand is how we weren’t aware of the possible connection. You’d think it would have been whispered about for ages.”
“I think it was, but hushed. You know my father, the scandal—” Ramsey paused. That was it. It had to be.
“What?” Heathcliff asked impatiently. “You figured something out.”
Ramsey nodded absentmindedly, realizing the music had ended. He turned expectantly, waiting for Lord Westhouse to return Grace to her guardian.
But amongst the sea of faces, he didn’t see Grace’s.
“Where is she?” Ramsey whispered, turning to Heathcliff and then immediately scanning the room.
“Who?” Heathcliff asked.
“Grace, damn it! She should be done by now. The music . . .” He trailed off and started to turn around to scan the people behind him.
“Damn,” Heathcliff remarked.
