Insufferable man. Arrogant, teasing,infuriatingman. He’d planned this grand reveal just to surprise her. That much had been obvious. She must have gaped like a fish.
“Slow down, dear!”
Madelaine snapped her attention back to the present with a guilty start. “Sorry, Aunt… The noise…the crowd…it is hard to breathe.”
“I know.” But her aunt was looking around, wide-eyed with delight. Madelaine felt another stab of guilt. This was her aunt’s triumph, no matter Lord Cotereigh’s hand in it.
“You’ve done a wonderful job, Aunt. The flower arrangements are superb. And this music”—a string quartet was playing a fashionable sonata—“is just right.”
“I can hardly take much credit. Mrs Littleton’s taste proved most excellent, and the Cumbria’s steward was extremely efficient.”
“Oh, hush.” She smiled. “Do takesomecredit, Aunt, or I shall be forced to harangue you all night with your praises, and you know neither of us will enjoy that. Now, we really ought to celebrate. I suppose you must know from all your planning where the champagne table is to be found?”
Her aunt chuckled. “Of course. Through there.”
They were turning away from the table, a cool glass in hand, when Lord Cotereigh found them.
“Surely the guests are not finished arriving?” Madelaine asked him. “There were dozens of carriages behind us.”
“No, but Pembroke was doing such an excellent job. I even heard him say ‘How do you do?’so he was clearly in the swing of things. And I found I had more pressing obligations to attend to.”
She wouldn’t let the particular smile he directed at her mean anything. It was only proof that his presence at the door had been designed to shock her, given he left his post once the object had been achieved.
Besides, her aunt’s gratitude would do for both of them.Shemeant it, at least. Lord Cotereigh accepted it politely and returned her efforts with many compliments about the ball. When Mrs Littleton came up to claim her for some last-minute strategising, Lord Cotereigh turned to Madelaine with a smile.
“You do not congratulate me, Mrs Ardingly?” He reached past her to pick up a glass of champagne from the table behind her. She stepped away from the brush of his arm.
“Do I need to? Your victory is evidently complete. And I’m sure you’re doing a far better job of congratulating yourself than my halfhearted efforts could amount to.”
He only smiled. Then, to her annoyance, he took her elbow and directed her away from the crush at the table, as though he had the right to place her where he pleased.
They reached a quiet corner. His hand stayed on her elbow a moment longer than it needed.
“Halfhearted?” he repeated. “Is my victory not also yours? What society has ever launched itself more brightly? And from such an unprepossessing start too.”
She coloured, confused by memories of shabby, pamphlet-strewn rooms and ink stains. Ink on her mouth. Lord Cotereigh’s own mouth was smug, the corner crooked up, curving further as she looked at him.
It was always a mistake to look at him. To interact at all. She fixed her attention elsewhere, unable to cross her arms while holding a glass of champagne but doing her best, one arm tucked across her chest.
“How long will you last on the committee, my lord? You could make another wager on that. I would bet a month, but that might be too generous.”
“This is why you’re annoyed with me, is it? Or is it the battle to say thank you? I’m sure it’s taxing.”
She gritted her teeth. “Thank you, Lord Cotereigh. We are in your debt. We were entirely helpless without you.”
His laugh was a breath, scarcely heard over the sound of a hundred chattering voices. But she felt it like a whisper against her ear. “So gracefully given. How tense the sinews in your jaw must be. I can see them…just here.”
She went still as he reached out and touched her, drawing a line from ear to chin. His hand was gone again before her heart even began to pound, the moment so fleeting as to bealmost absurd protesting. He spoke again before she could even comprehend it, only a line of fire down her cheek making her sure she hadn’t dreamt it.
“Won’t you admit I’ve helped you?”
“Your motives—”
“My motives have long been muddied.”
Her arm tightened across her chest. She couldn’t look at him. Would not. Would not see the meaning in his eyes…
But of course she looked.
