He strode toward her without hesitation, ignoring the murmurs that followed him as he cut through the crowd. By the time she noticed him, it was too late to escape.
“Dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand.
A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, but she didn’t refuse. Instead, the edges of her lips curled up in a smile, and she placed her gloved hand in his.
“You’re about to cause a scene,” she told him in a singsong voice under her breath.
Asking her to dance at Meredith’s country house party was one thing. Asking her to dance in front of all of London’s finest was quite another. And they both knew it.
“That’s the idea,” he drawled, giving her a wicked grin.
He led her onto the dance floor, and as the music swelled, they moved together, perfectly in sync.
And just as he expected—just as hehoped—the room gasped.
A scandalous woman and a notorious rake dancing together in full view of theton? It was enough to make dowagers clutch their diamonds and debutantes widen their eyes in shock.
Clare shot him a glare. “You just ruined your reputation, Lord Trentham.”
Ash smirked. “I think my reputation was ruined a long time ago.”
She exhaled sharply and shook her head at him. “Whatareyou doing?”
“Something reckless,” he admitted. “And I’m not done yet.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, causing even more gasps from the partygoers on the sidelines. “Meet me on the balcony in an hour.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Ash?—”
“One hour, Clare,” he murmured as the dance ended, brushing his lips over her knuckles as he let go of her hand. “Don’t make me wait.”
Before she could refuse, he turned and walked away.
AN HOUR LATER,Ash stood on the Merriweathers’ balcony, the cool night air doing nothing to settle the riot inside him.
This was it.
He was about to change his life. The other night, he hadn’t truly asked her…not properly. Tonight, he intended to change that. To show her that he meant it. To make her believe they could have a life together. A real one. A happy one.
He had no idea how she would respond, but he had to try. Clare was the only woman who had ever made him want more, and if she told him no—God help him—he didn’t know what he’d do.
The door to the balcony opened, and he heard the rustle of skirts behind him. He turned, his heart pounding.
But it wasn’t Clare.
Instead, Lady Julia Fairbanks stepped forward, her expression coy yet somehow equally calculated.
“Lord Trentham,” she purred, stepping much too close. “What acoincidence, finding you out here alone.”
Ash resisted the urge to groan. “It’s not a coincidence, is it?”
She smiled prettily, ignoring his pointed tone. “A man like you shouldn’t be alone at a ball. Not when there are so manyeagerunmarried ladies about.”
Bloody hell.
He took a step back, but before he could send her on her way, the sound of approaching footsteps made Ash’s breath catch in his throat.
Someone was coming.
Ash knew what would happen next. What thislooked like—him alone on a balcony with an unmarried female. The very trap he had spent years avoiding. And Lady Julia had clearly planned it. No doubt it was her mother or some equally loquacious dowager set to call the alarm.
