“Madame Lucienne.”
Mary tried not to stiffen at the name.
Plunge grimaced. “Oh, indeed. No, she is from London at the present moment. I am unsure when she will return. To be perfectly honest, she has slovenly tendencies and leaves things lying about my town house.” His nose wrinkled. “As my constitution is delicate, I need quiet and cleanliness, and it’s my hope she doesn’t return for some time.”
She swallowed down the giggle and glared at Lord Plunge. He gave her the look of a simpleton, but she knew he was far from that. Monty was awake on all fronts, he’d shown that to her many times.
“Madame Lucienne will not be returning?”
To her ears, Zach sounded upset about that fact. Clearly, he was quite taken with Madame Lucienne, which she told herself she was not jealous about.
“I don’t think so,” Lord Plunge said vaguely.
“Well, get to your future predictions then,” Zach said, waving his hand at the man as if he were a dog to be shooed away.
Lord Plunge did not retreat. Instead, he advanced into the opening and peered at Mary.
“Miss Blake, are you well? Can I walk you to your carriage?” Something flickered in the grey depths of the nobleman’s eyes, and she caught the small wink. “I am more than happy to sacrifice one of my six monogrammed handkerchiefs, should you need a replacement for the one you currently have pressed to your cheek. I always carry several in case a situation arises.”
“One wonders what situation would necessitate six monogrammed handkerchiefs?” Zach growled.
“I have several in many different shades and fabrics,” Plunge said, instead of answering the question. “I keep five in my carriage and one on my personage.”
Zach muttered something unflattering beneath his breath.
“Thank you. I would be most grateful if you could lend me your arm, as Mr. Deville and his brother are busy,” Mary said quickly. “I have no wish to hold them up further.” She then stepped from Zach’s grip and moved toward Lord Plunge. “Thank you,” she threw over her shoulder to the scowling youngest Deville brother.
“I will allow you to place your hand on my arm, madam, but I’m afraid the fabric of this jacket was quite expensive. I cannot allow it to stain,” Lord Plunge told her.
“I understand,” Mary said with a slight quiver to her voice that she hoped those watching thought was her being unsettled rather than ready to laugh.
“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Zach said, moving to her side. “She says she’s not hurt, but I think Mary needs a physician to look at her.”
“I most definitely do not.” She glared at him. “I am quite well. Good day.”
“If you do need a physician, my dear, mine spends a large amount of time at my house. I have a delicate constitution, you see,” Plunge said. “Come along, we shall get you to your home, and I shall immediately dispatch my driver, Button, to retrieve my physician.”
“I wish only to make it to my carriage,” Mary said. “I have no need of a physician.”
“I will escort you there,” Zach insisted.
“No need.” She dropped into a curtsey, gave Nathan a smile, and walked away with her maid trailing behind and Zach’s angry eyes boring into her back.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Mary’s words had been icy. She was never cold to him. Angry, raging, insolent, and insulting, but lately she’d been barely civil. He didn’t like it.
Zach watched her walk away from him for the second time that day, but he didn’t experience the anger and frustration he’d felt earlier. He felt a deep heavy pain in his chest that had his fist rubbing it.
She’d gone with Plunge rather than be near him. Rather than allowing him to help her.
“It’s hard to reconcile Plunge as the hero, but he seemed insistent that Mary go with him.”
“He’s an idiot.”
“How is it Lady Blake can’t see how truly hideously she dresses her daughter when all around her other ladies are dressed fashionably,” Nathan said.
“Clothes don’t make a man or woman,” Zach grunted. “I fear she may be injured and not telling us.”
