The tone was dry, and Felicity recognised a cynical note she had heard before. It was in keeping with her first impression of him. He had proved oddly contrary, like one of the academy pupils in recalcitrant mood. At one moment perfectly amiable, at another decidedly alienating.
She struggled against the increasing sensation of oppression. She ought to be flattered by his lordship’s attention. He was a marquis, after all. Felicity found it hard to care. She had never expected to be obliged to curry favour in society and could not conjure the falsity of being impressed with rank. She certainly had no reason to do so. The girls in her care had uniformly misbehaved, regardless of whether their fathers were dukes or mere gentlemen.
“You are very thoughtful, Miss Temple.”
Startled out of her preoccupation, Felicity blinked at her companion. “I beg your pardon. Is it rude of me?”
“Very.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” She eyed him, trying to find words that had no bearing on her disturbing situation. They would not come. “I’m sorry for it, sir. I know it ill becomes me to return your attentions with nothing but worrisome plaints, but I find it hard to think of anything but the predicament in which I now find myself.”
There was a frown in his gaze, which was unwavering. He paused a moment, and then shifted his stance so that he faced her more completely. “I acquit you.”
Perplexed, Felicity frowned back. “Of what, if you please?”
“Rudeness, for one. For another, engaging in an ingenious ploy to capture my interest.”
A rush of heat took Felicity unawares. She acted on it before she could think of the wisdom of her words. “Oh, indeed? You supposed I was setting my cap at you? Heavens above, my lord, if I were ninny enough to think myself worthy of the honour, I would be stupid indeed to suppose I might attract a man by behaving in a fashion which might well make him suppose me to be demented! I am aware I have been all too distracted, but I promise you I have no slightest desire to capture the interest of you, or any other gentleman — of whatever rank or eligibility.”
His brows rose and he lifted his quizzing glass to his eye, regarding her through it in a manner as patronising as it was infuriating. “But what a heat!”
“What an arrogance!”
The quizzing glass dropped and he laughed out. “Excellently done, Miss Temple. You are an original, I’ll give you that.”
“Thank you. I am flattered beyond words.”
An oddly attractive crinkle at the corners of his eyes lent warmth to his otherwise harsh features. Felicity’s ruffled temper began to cool, allowing her underlying agitation room to return. On impulse, she threw him a smile. “Well, you succeeded in turning my thoughts for a moment, my lord. I will thank you for that.”
He bowed his head, the amusement still visible in his face. “An estimable pleasure, ma’am.” He glanced again towards the ballroom from where, Felicity realised, the noise of chatter and laughter was increasing. “I apprehend this foul auction is now over. Should you care to stroll the rooms in search of your errant guardian?”
He rose on the words and Felicity followed suit with alacrity.
“Yes, if you please.” She set her hand on his proffered arm and threw a glance up into his face, which had returned to a set look of jaded boredom. Felicity strongly suspected it was habitual. She recalled an earlier notion she’d picked up from his conversation. “You know Lord Maskery, sir?”
The cynical look reappeared as he turned and met her gaze. “Too well.”
She spoke her thought aloud. “You don’t like him.”
“Not in the least.” He began to lead her in the direction of the ballroom. “Does it trouble you?”
“No, my lord. I do not like him either.”
He glanced down, amusement once more in his eyes. “How extraordinarily well we agree on so many things, Miss Temple.”
Nettled, she snapped back. “We do not. I wish you will not talk to me in that flirtatious way.”
“You find it flirtatious?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Not intentionally, I assure you.”
“Well, I’m glad of that at all events. Please may we simply look?”
His brows lifted. “I thought we were looking. So far, I am drawing a blank. Do you see your duenna anywhere?”
They had arrived at the open double doorway that let into the ballroom, if it was one. For the first time, Felicity glanced at the proportions of the room. She had been too agitated to take in more than a general impression of elegance, light and vastness. Now she saw that the size of both room and crowd was exaggerated by several pier-glass mirrors at either side.
