Her kindness touched him. “Thank you, Lady Alymer. I humbly admit, any help will be appreciated.”
Her expression turned fierce. “Not at all. It is I who owe you, my lord.”
Startled, his eyes moved back to her. She’d lowered her glass and was staring down at the contents. “Pardon?”
“Last year.” She raised her gaze to his. “Don’t you remember, sir? You shielded me from Lord Maudsley at a most opportune moment.”
Heat crawled up his neck. Maudsley indeed had cornered Lady Alymer just as supper had been called. He had forgotten that incident at Griston’s London ball last year in one of the few appearances he’d made at the time. Ginny’s history with and public anger toward Brock had been too well known for both of them to disappear for any length of time.
Hiding Ginny from her horrid, abusive husband had been an act of crime for which Brock could have been prosecuted. Yet he would gladly do it again and again. The task in attending enough events to stave off the worst of the gossipmongers had fallen on him as Ginny was fighting for her very life.
A boredtonlived for the slightest titillating snippets that could ravish a person’s soul as thoroughly as a fast-moving fire across a wheat field in a drought.
“You were quite the hero, my lord.” She patted his hand, breaking the solemnness of the moment. “Don’t worry. I shan’t tell anyone.”
He shot her a mischievous grin. “I vow, my lady, you will make someone”—he punctuated his words with a wink—“a very happy man one day.” He glanced down the table where, lo and behold, Ginny’s murderous gaze pierced him, her lips turned down.
The band across his chest broke, and his grin widened. He angled his glass toward Lady Alymer’s. “A very happy man.”
Lady Alymer grinned back. “My mother is watching, my lord. Beware.”
Brock laughed. It felt good, despite the others’ speculative looks narrowing on them. “Your mother doesn’t frighten me,” he said, smiling. He sobered. “On a more serious note, don’t put yourself in harm’s way. There are knaves afoot. For my part, I vow I shall have Lady Maudsley eating out of my hand before the weekend is out. Mark my words.”One could hope.
“Warning received, Lord Brockway.” She lifted her wine in a small toast. “May Lady Maudsley come to her senses quickly if only to save your sanity,” she teased.
He clinked his glass to hers. “Sanity indeed.” A truer understatement had never been uttered.
Nine
A
seething anger simmered just below Ginny’s skin. How disappointing of Maeve—Lady Alymer, she amended. Formality had a way of removing the intimacy of friendship. Ginny had believed her a friend.
Course after course arrived and disappeared. All the while feeding her seething simmer into a full-blown fire that raced through her veins. How dare Brock play with any woman’s affections. And how infuriating to find herself caught in the churning pot of swirling emotional sludge. Having been out of the public eye for a year certainly made it difficult to crawl back into habits she’d long since outgrown.
Being the sudden fascination of two attractive men was unsettling. And she wasn’t even counting Brock. Of course,hisinterest was as constant as a ship upon the sea in a blustering storm. Ginny had never been prone to lying, especially to herself. The attention from Griston and the new Maudsley was not normal toward someone like her. It wasn’t as if her late husband had left her with a substantial inheritance. Certainly, she was widowed, and still fairly young at nine and twenty. At least she felt young. But she was a widow. With two children. Two girl children. Perhaps she was just a curiosity. Someone they felt inclined to trifle with.
“Will there be dancing, Griston, old boy?” Maudsley asked.
“Of course. My mother insisted upon it, but not until—”
The dowager rose from her seat. “Ladies, shall we?” Ginny could scarcely hide her relief as the seven-course dinner ended with the dowager excusing the ladies to leave the men to their port.
Ginny followed the other women from the dining hall to the large parlor, where card tables had been arranged around the room’s perimeter. As Ginny had never been much good at cards (that inability she had to shield her every thought) and was more proficient at charades, she opted to stay away from the tables.
Lorelei hooked an arm through Ginny’s. “How are you doing?” Her voice was low. “I vow, Shufflebottom is the most annoying fop.”
Ginny grinned. Shufflebottom was an annoying fop, and she had been thrilled to see him seated next to Maeve’s mother who was equally annoying. “Things are well, I suppose. Though, frankly, I forget how much I despise these events.”
Lorelei aimed them toward a private spot near the windows. “Yes, they are quite pretentious, aren’t they?”
She frowned. “It seems too soon to have left the girls behind.”
Lorelei squeezed her arm. “It’s been almost a year, my dear. You would have to sooner or later. Besides, you know they are perfectly safe at my home. I believe Corinne will appreciate having Irene there for company.”
That was likely true. Ginny thought of the quiet girl who was more stoic than Irene, if such a thing were even possible. The melancholy about Corinne was heart-wrenching to witness. Thank heavens Lorelei had taken her and her baby in. Rowena Hollerfield’s death had hit the young woman especially hard. Rowena had been Lord Kimpton’s mistress prior to his marriage to Lorelei. She’d also been companion to Maudsley’s first wife, Hannah. And when the woman died in childbirth, Rowena had spirited the baby away. Corinne had been that baby. It was all very complicated and gave Ginny a headache trying to sort out.
Ginny sighed. “Perhaps you’re right.”
