Chapter 4
Breathe, Marguerite admonished herself, her pulse racing madly.Breathe!
She knew she was staring at the most handsome man she had ever seen—even more handsome than she remembered!—but she couldn’t help herself.
Standing nearly as tall as Donovan with raven-black hair and striking features, Lord Summerlin drew closer and reached out to take her hand. Almost stupidly, Marguerite continued to stare at him, and she jumped when his fingers touched hers.
Strong fingers, lifting her kid-gloved hand so that he might press a light kiss upon it as he bowed so gallantly in front of her.
What should she say? What should she do? She had never felt so flustered in her life even as Lindsay clapped her hands together and laughed gaily.
“What a fine pair they make, don’t you agree, Corie?”
As her sister murmured her assent, Marguerite felt a fiery blush burn her face…and clearly Walker Burke…no, Alexander Scott, had noticed. He was smiling at her, a slow wry smile while his arresting midnight eyes held humor and open admiration.
From her upswept hair to her satin-slippered toes, his gaze swept over her as if devouring her with one glance…while Jared laughed, too, though not as had his wife.
“Enough, man, it’s not as if you haven’t seen a beautiful woman before,” came his voice with the barest tinge of annoyance. Walker threw a quizzical sideways glance at Jared, and released Marguerite’s hand, though not before lightly squeezing her fingers.
“Forgive me, Miss—”
“No, M-Marguerite…please,” she stammered, her cheeks flaring anew at the deep huskiness of his voice and his undeniable American accent. She’d never heard him speak before; he hadn’t said a word to her that awful night in Roscoff. Just squeezed her fingers and made them burn…just as they burned now even through her glove. “I…oh, dear, I don’t know by what name to call you, my lord—”
“Why, Alexander Scott, of course,” a hawkish-looking gentleman spoke up from behind Donovan, stepping into their midst. “Lord Summerlin to you, young lady—”
“Allow me to introduce my cousin, Sir Russell Scott,” Walker interjected, his jaw clearly tightening and his expression grown dark. To Marguerite, it was like watching a brilliant sunny day that had suddenly grown stormy and ominous as she glanced from his handsome face to the baronet.
“I-I’m sorry, Lord Summerlin, of course.”
“Very good. Now, Alexander, if you don’t mind, there are many young ladies awaiting your attention. More suitable to your father’s wishes, I might add—”
“Would you like to dance, Marguerite?”
Walker’s voice had become a low growl as once more he’d interrupted his cousin. She had no time to answer as he took her hand in his and, after nodding to the others, began to walk with her into the adjoining room.
Not just any walk, either, as Marguerite glanced over her shoulder to see Corie and Lindsay exchanging astonished looks…but long, determined strides that made her nearly run to keep up with him.
As if she were witnessing the parting of the Red Sea, the couples already dancing to another waltz fell back on either side of them as Walker led her to the very heart of the crowded room.
Walker. It seemed the only name that came to mind as she stared up at him when he turned to face her, one hand at her back while the other clasped her gloved hand in his much larger one. She wondered dazedly if perhaps she might not be able to think of him as anything else, she’d heard him called Walker Burke for so long by Corie and Donovan. That was the name he’d known for most of his life after all…
“You must forgive Russell’s rudeness,” came his voice, grown husky again, as he began to lead her in a waltz that set the room spinning around her. “I will speak to him later, you can be sure.”
“I-I don’t understand…” she began, and then it dawned upon her like a bolt of lightning what Sir Russell had said.
Suitable. Yes, of course. She had been so lost in the moment of seeing Walker again but now, swallowing hard, she felt some of the color drain from her face.
Felt some of the same misery from last year’s Season begin to swamp her…and she tried to free her hand from Walker’s even as he drew her closer against him.
