Amelia’s hand in hers, squeezed. “You poor thing. I didn’t realize what you lived with until just this moment. I’m very pleased that you will finally be with the man you love.”
Her sister didn’t let go of her, instead, she started to stroll, forcing her to join her. “Are you going to seek out your husband?”
“No, we’re going to talk to Lady Blackmore. You haven’t danced with the viscount all evening. It won’t offend anyone’s sensibilities if you happen to see if his mother is enjoying the ball you planned.”
She did want to talk to Lady Blackmore, but even more so Marcus. She had hoped he’d seek her out, but except for when he entered, he’d not looked for her. Had he already found someone else? At the thought, her heart shuddered.
As they approached, she noticed Lady Dowling talking to him, her daughter simply staring. Her heart squeezed at the obvious admiration of the younger woman as she watched Marcus while he spoke to her mother.
Lady Blackmore observed their approach and said something to her son before smiling at them. “Lady Beaumont. Lady Sommerset. What a lovely ball. Lady Beaumont, your mother couldn’t praise you enough for arranging everything. Was it your idea to offer multiple tables about the room with punch?”
She puffed with pride. “It was. I thought it would eliminate a crush after each dance.”
“And so it has. I shall be sure to do the same at my next event. Then again, if I wait long enough, I’ll be able to simply attend.” The woman gave her a knowing look.
“I’m pleased that you think the idea worthy. I do enjoy planning such events.” It was the truth. She just wasn’t sure if she’d have a chance to plan another.
“Do you hear that, Marcus?”
She had felt his gaze upon her the moment Lady Blackmore spoke to them, but had purposefully kept her attention on his mother. Now that he’d been invited into the conversation, she allowed herself to look at him, wishing they could be anywhere but in the middle of the ballroom.
He smiled politely. “I do. Lady Beaumont has always excelled at planning.”
Though his words were appropriate, there was no warmth in his voice. Something was wrong. “And I believe that you, my lord, are quite good at extemporaneous events, am I correct?”
He gave her a nod. “I am. Sometimes not knowing what reaction will occur due to an action makes for quite a bit of excitement.”
From the look in his eyes, she could see he meant something beyond his words, but she didn’t understand. “I must accept your knowledge on that score.”
“I would much rather you experienced it.” His gaze locked with hers, searching for something.
His mother replied. “Yes, well, look at how well that treated you. You went off—”
“Lady Beaumont.” Marcus offered his arm. “Would you care to walk in the garden? I’m finding it a bit warm in here.”
Not a little surprised he’d interrupt his mother, she simply nodded, biting her tongue that it would be no cooler outside. She placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to walk her toward the closest terrace doors.
Though Lady Dulac and Lord Hennings separately attempted to intercept them, Marcus side-stepped further conversation. That could only mean that he wished to speak to her about something important. She found herself beginning to perspire, and pulled her fan from her pocket, using it with efficiency as Lady Astor looked as if she would engage her.
Finally, they stepped out onto the terrace. The additional lanterns she’d had placed in the garden didn’t leave many shadows just outside the ballroom doors. Marcus turned to their right and strolled out of the lighted area and into the darkness near the dolphin fountain, whose flow of water minimized the ballroom sounds. Suddenly, he halted.
She looked at him in question, having just enough light to see the frown on his face. “What is it?”
His lips parted then closed then parted again. Suddenly, she found herself embraced and her chin lifted. Again he opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he kissed her.
Not expecting it, she lost her balance as his need for her communicated itself to her body and her knees went weak, his tongue sweeping into her mouth like a conqueror. Grasping him around the neck as much to keep from falling as to enjoy the kiss, she found all her doubts floating away.
As abruptly as the kiss started, it ended and he unlinked her hands from around his neck before stepping back. “I apologize.”
It took her a moment to regain her balance both physically and mentally, and still she was thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand.”
His hand moved to his left thigh, kneading the fabric of his black breeches. “I know. I wish that I could explain.”
Marcus had never had difficulties talking to her, so it must be something of great concern. The only subject that came to mind was the contract Joanna mentioned. “Is it the marriage settlement? You don’t need to sign it.” She didn’t want him to obligate himself unless he was absolutely sure.
“Yes. No.” He turned away to stare at the fountain in the darkness. Ambient light filtered through the garden from the upper story windows, reflecting off the patina of the dolphins as they forever leapt upward in abandon. “It is not the settlement.” He whirled around to face her. “You do know that I was wounded and left for dead. I did not pretend to be dead. I was anxious to get back and marry you.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his admission. “I know you were wounded. I didn’t know you were left to die.” The thought of him lying on a battlefield bleeding and unable to find help, made her want to cry.
