This time, gasps rose from the eavesdropping ladies, loud enough that they caught the viscount’s attention. He narrowed his eyes at them, and they quickly waddled away, skirts rustling and palavering behind their fluttering fans.
“For a man averse to scandal,” Marcus remarked dryly, “you’ve just provided enough fodder to satisfy the gossips for weeks.”
“I was speaking the truth. If that’s fodder, so be it.” The viscount scowled. “This is precisely why I detest such social functions—no offense.”
“None taken.”
Especially since Marcus happened to be in agreement as it pertained to this particular ball. His gaze honed in on Pandora once again, and the pressure in his veins shot up dangerously. The Earl of Edgecombe had joined her circle, and, as he did so, the bastard placed a hand on the small of her back.
Another man wastouching his wife. The bugger’s paw rested for an instant too long above the scarlet bow on her back—the one that beckoned like a gift to be unwrapped—before he removed it. Yet the damage was done. The scars flared on Marcus’ brain:Pierre Chenet,Jean-Philippe Martin, Vincent Barone. Images of Penny being touched by those faceless others, moaning beneath them, made him burn beneath his collar. Savage instinct roared over him.
“You might want to rethink that.” Carlisle gripped his arm, holding him back.
“He touched her.”They all did.Rage quivered in his muscles.
“For only a moment, and Edgecomb would claim it was innocent. Now do you really wish to make a scene over a trifle like that? Do you want to appear like a jealous husband tied to your lady’s apron strings?”
Carlisle’s words penetrated his miasma of fury. It took everything he had, but Marcus willed himself to calm.
“I thought you said things were improved between the two of you,” the viscount said.
Marcus pulled his jacket back into place. He wanted to punch something. Namely the face of the bastard standing next to his wife, peering down her blasted bodice. “They are.”
“Right.” The other’s lips twisted. “This is why I’ll never marry for love. Things may be good or they may be bad, but either way you wind up looking like a fool.”
“You’re not helping matters,” Marcus said through his teeth.
“Of course I am. If it weren’t for me, you’d be bashing in Edgecombe’s skull, and trust me, the bastard’s noggin doesn’t need further damage. He’s stupid enough as it is. Now you want my advice?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Ignore her. Go be a host. You don’t need to air your laundry in front of the entireton.”
Carlisle had a point. Expelling a breath, Marcus got himself back under control.Carry on. Don’t look like an idiot in front of the world. He scanned the ballroom—and saw Lady Cora Ashley waving at him.
“You’re right,” he said. “Care to join me in greeting some guests?”
“No, thank you. I’ve seen all I can stomach for the evening.” Bowing, Carlisle said, “Good luck and good night, my friend.”
The viscount went one way and Marcus the other.
Chapter Fifteen
The ball was turning into a nightmare.
To make matters worse, Penny was at present cornered by her mama-in-law.
“You do have a way with parties,” Lady Aileen, the dowager Marchioness of Blackwood, said. “This ball appears to be no exception.”
The tiny, wrinkled lady waved the jeweled knob of her walking stick to indicate the winter wonderland Penny had spent weeks creating. Through the years, Penny had learned that success lay in the details, in setting a scene that contained the comfort of the familiar as well as the element of surprise. In this way, entertaining was not so very different from her work as an agent.
For tonight’s event, she’d had evergreen branches and silver ribbons festooned across the high ceiling. Potted palms had been painted by hand to give the appearance of frost on the fronds, and icicles made of glass tinkled on the branches. The finest food and drink flowed freely.
“’Tis fortunate that my son’s pockets are sufficiently deep to support your hobby,” the dowager went on.
Penny had been waiting for the dig. As always, any compliment from the old harpy was double-edged. The passing years and the three grandsons Penny had produced had eased but not taken away the friction between her and Lady Aileen. Secretly, she suspected that the termagant was bored and enjoyed their feisty exchanges, and she, for her part, gave as good as she got. At times, this resulted in warfare, but overall the two managed to coexist without too much bloodshed. They did this for the sake of the man they both loved.
Swallowing, Penny snuck another peak at Marcus. Normally, the sight of him so starkly handsome in his formal wear elicited a tingle of feminine satisfaction, but tonight hurt and frustration bubbled inside her. She’d done her very best to please her husband… and he was acting like a bloomingass. He’d ignored her all evening and currently stood several yards away, entertaining a group of insipid ladies who hung upon his every word.
