“From the way you queried my husband about his illness, I assumed that you had never suffered an ailment.” She widened her eyes like an ingenue. “I envy you such robustness, sir—and such conviction.”
Ryerson sputtered as smothered laughter rippled through the crowd. Lady Vernon, James saw, was gazing at Evie with dawning respect.
Pride and gratitude blazed through him. What a woman fate has bestowed upon me.
“Come, my dear.” He offered Evie his arm. “I was promised a dance, and I shall claim this waltz as my due.”
“Of course. If you’ll excuse us?” she said politely.
With a demure curtsy, her eyes sparkling brighter than the diamonds, Evie went with him to the dance floor.
Evie exited the retiring room.
Despite the late hour—and her sore toes from dancing—she buzzed with energy…and happiness. It wasn’t often that James needed her help, but tonight she had proved her worth. She’d stood for him as he’d done for her countless times. How dare that worm Ryerson insult him? James had been holding his own, but her wifely instincts had led her into the fray. Afterward, she’d fretted that he might resent her interference.
She needn’t have worried.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” James had murmured during their waltz. “What a brave little wife I have.”
“I didn’t mean to interfere?—”
“You didn’t. And I shall have to think of some way to thank you—say, by putting you on your hands and knees tonight.”
The quiver of heat had made her stumble. James caught her, of course, steering her smoothly through the turn.
Recovering, she’d muttered, “Would that be thanking me—or yourself?”
Laughter had gleamed in his gaze. “Let us call it an act of mutual appreciation.”
The thought of mutually appreciating one another caused Evie to hasten her steps. Having made the rounds, she and James could leave…and commence with the evening’s true festivities. She was about to pass through the marble colonnade that circled the ballroom when a footman approached. Blond and strapping, he looked as new and shiny as the brass buttons on his livery.
“Do I have the honor of speaking with the Countess of Manderly?” he asked tentatively.
She gave him a puzzled smile. “Yes.”
“I have a message for you, my lady.”
He extended a silver salver, and dread slithered up her spine when she saw the familiar penmanship. She picked up the sealed note as casually as she could.
“Who gave you this?”
“I am not certain. My duty is to deliver messages, and this one, um, appeared on my tray. It might have been there for some time before I noticed it,” he said apologetically. “If you wish, I could ask the butler whether he saw?—”
“That won’t be necessary.” The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to the note. “I’m certain it is from my husband, announcing that he is ready to depart.”
“Yes, my lady.” The footman looked relieved. “I’ve conveyed many such messages this eve.”
Evie waited until he left to break the seal.
Deliver the diamond necklace to the hermit’s grotto at midnight tomorrow. Place it in the niche at the entrance. Come alone—or I will destroy the Earl of Manderly’s reputation and future.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I have to be the one to deliver the necklace,” Evie insisted the next morning. “Otherwise, the blackmailer will sense a trap.”
“I will not have you endangering yourself,” James growled.
And yes, he was growling—because they’d been going around and around since she’d received the note, neither willing to concede ground. Now they had an audience. His family was gathered again in Xenia’s sitting room to avoid prying eyes. He and Evie stood in front of the hearth, arguing their points.
