“You know you’ll need to speak to Veronica eventually. This cannot go on forever.”
“Tell that to your stubborn sister,” Edgefield replied with a tight smile.
Justin rolled his eyes. Sebastian and Veronica were far too alike, which made them both an excellent match and formidable enemies when they so chose.
“Will I see you later, at the club?” Justin asked to change the subject. He’d learned long ago it did little good to try to convince either Sebastian or Veronica to see reason.
“Yes. I intend to win back the fifty pounds you stole from me last night.”
“I think you mean you plan to lose fifty more to me tonight,” Justin replied with a wink. The two friends often bet on hands of cards, and neither was up for long before the other won back his money. They’d been winning and losing the same fifty pounds for years. “At any rate, I’ll stop to thank Lady Hazelton for her hospitality, and then I’ll be going,” Justin said.
Edgefield nodded and drifted off into the crowd, most likely to talk to some of the other members of Parliament about an upcoming bill or some other boring nonsense. Sebastian took his duties seriously. As a duke, he had to. Justin was far less inclined. He might be a marquess, but he’d yet to settle into the years of obligation men in his position seemed destined for. There would be plenty of time for that later…when he stopped having so much bloody fun.
Justin soon located his hostess and offered the obligatory thanks. He might be a profligate rake, but his mother had drilled manners and decorum into him from the moment he was born. He turned to make his way out the doors toward the foyer. As he went, he pulled his gold timepiece from the inside pocket of his coat and consulted it. Excellent. He could be at his favorite hell within twenty minutes if the streets weren’t crowded.
But instead of continuing toward the door, he found himself…stopping. Stopping, turning, and looking around for…her. The blond woman from the drawing room. He took a spot along the edge of the dance floor and scanned the crowd. Had she found her handsome gentleman? Was she dancing? If he saw her, that would be enough, and he would leave. But even as his gaze searched the dance floor, he chastised himself. Why the hell did he care if a complete stranger got her dance? He didn’t even know who she was. And he certainly would not ask anyone to tell him her name. That would only cause gossip. He was leaving.
He turned on his heel. But just before he made it to the doors, he couldn’t help but glance back one more time…
As if the light had caught it solely for his eye, a swath of sapphire satin illuminated on the far side of the room. It was paired with a head full of blond hair and a lovely profile that had been etched into his memory. It was her. He’d found her. She was not on the dance floor, however. Instead, she stood on the far side of the dancing, and she seemed to be…in an argument with a man.
The middle-aged man wore a bright green coat atop ungodly peacock-blue pantaloons. He was jabbing a large finger toward the dance floor while the blond lady stood with her gloved hands on her hips and an animated expression on her face, which included a decided frown. Justin watched in silence for a few more moments until the peacock grabbed the lady’s arm and pulled her along behind him toward the dancing.
Justin didn’t stop to think. He pushed through the crowd and strode forcefully past the dancers to make his way to her side.
“I don’t care to dance with you, my lord,” she was saying while tugging against the older man’s obviously too-strong grip.
The peacock wasn’t listening. He continued to pull her toward the dance floor.
Justin stepped directly into Peacock’s path, where he squared his shoulders and pushed the flat of one hand hard against the man’s puffed-out chest. “I believe the young lady said she’s not interested in a dance with you.” His voice was deep and gruff, intended for absolutely no misinterpretation on Peacock’s part.
“Who are you?” the man asked brusquely, giving Justin a look intended to burn through him.
Justin returned his penetrating gaze. The man was half a foot shorter than him and though quite a bit heavier, Justin had no doubt his years spent mastering the art of fencing, specifically an esquive, would send this oaf crashing to the floor if he attempted to lunge at him.
“Who are you?” Justin demanded, glancing around. Where in the world was this young woman’s mother? She wasn’t doing a very good job of chaperoning her charge tonight.
“I’m Lord Julington,” the man replied, narrowing his eyes on Justin.
Justin crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Lord Julington. “Suffice it to say, I’m someone who doesn’t take kindly to seeing ladies forced into unwanted dances.”
The man attempted to push past Justin. “Get out of my way. This is none of your concern.”
Justin stopped him with an arm to his throat. “I’m about to make it my concern if you don’t unhand this lady immediately.”
The man released the young woman’s arm but continued to glare at Justin. “I don’t believe I caught your name, Sir,” he snarled through clenched teeth.
“I don’t believe I provided it,” Justin replied, stepping back and straightening his coat.
Justin glanced around briefly. The partygoers nearest to their little trio had stopped talking and dancing and were standing in a semicircle, staring at them. They had caused a scene. From the corner of his eye, Justin spied Lord Hazelton himself marching toward them.
The next sound Justin heard was the lady’s inhaled breath and a sharp squeak. He glanced at her. Stark terror flashed in her eyes before she turned on her heel and rushed away in the opposite direction.
Chapter Five
Maddie slammed the door to the drawing room behind her. She rushed to the far end of the room, pacing and wringing her hands. Oh, no. Had Lord Hazelton seen her? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t be certain. All she knew was that she’d fled the moment her employer had walked in her direction.
This was precisely why she shouldn’t have taken this chance tonight. It all sounded like a lark when one was giggling about it with Anna in the wee hours, but it was much less fun when one was hiding in a drawing room wearing stolen clothing, hoping that one’s employer didn’t find her.
