And yet he longed to sit closer to her. He wanted his body heat to warm hers or to perhaps to entwine his fingers with hers. It would still her anxious fiddling with her necklace. And it would remind him that she was very alive.
Despite everything happening around them, he had only to look away from her face to remember that six very well armed Scotsmen had tried to grab Iseabail in the middle of Hyde Park. His mind’s eye replayed the way those men had looked—brutal and determined—against one woman. What if he hadn’t been there to help? What if Sammy had given her over to them? Any of a thousand of different things might have happened and she would not be here now. This regal, amazing woman would be in their hands and suffering things that would haunt his nightmares.
“You know,” Lady Rebecca said, interrupting his thoughts. “I was so scared against all those horrible men. But you thought of me first, didn’t you?”
He forced his attention back to the girl. “I needed to get you out of the way—” He winced. “Out of danger. You’ve never fought anyone, have you? Not even in pretend.”
She gasped. “Oh, I couldn’t. That not how a lady behaves.”
“No, I suppose not.” At least not well-bred English ladies. His niece, however, was a firebrand with her fists. His brother was right. It was a good idea to teach girls how to defend themselves. And the two Scotswomen had impressed him with their ferocity. “Do you know how to kick or bite?” he pressed. “Where to punch a man?”
Lady Rebecca blinked at him. “I am a babe in the woods,” she said as if that were a good thing. “Utterly at your mercy.”
He looked at her then, really looked. He saw her beauty and her youth, but also her innocence and all the doll-like qualities the aristocrats prized. She was an ornament to society, a beautiful attachment to any man who claimed her. She would echo the opinions of her parents in all things. And assuming she didn’t turn sour, she would remain as absolutely useless as she was today. Which meant she would raise another generation of useless, beautiful girls.
Good God, she was boring. Marriage to her would be an endless tedium of sameness wrapped in a beautiful package.
He would go mad.
He stared at Lady Rebecca, his mind roiling from shock. He saw everything he wanted right there in front of him. A wife, an entry into the peerage, everything he had ever aspired to achieve—his for the taking. The gamble had paid off. He had won. All it took now would be to allow events to play out in their prescribed course.
Exactly as he’d planned.
What a shock it was to have it all and realize that two seconds after saying, “I do,” he would be bored to tears. The game would be over. He’d have won. And then what would he do? It wasn’t as if Lady Rebecca would be any kind of challenge. Indeed, nothing would be a challenge because he was the acknowledged King of London. The only thing left to him was to enter the peerage, and now here was Lady Rebecca giving him exactly that.
He’d won. He took a moment to savor the victory, to really feel it down into his bones.
And then he threw it all away.
Chapter Sixteen
Iseabail saw whatwas happening as if it were in a play before her eyes. Lady Rebecca with stars in her eyes as she worshiped Mr. Bates. He, of course, lapped it up, played to his audience, and would soon be accepted among their ranks. Her only hope of getting his help was the belief that thetonwould revile him.
How wrong she’d been. They worshipped him. A man who could fight, was wealthy beyond belief, and had protected one of their own. Not her, of course. She was a Scotswoman with a dubious heritage and attackers coming for her in Hyde Park. No, it was Lady Rebecca who was their darling, and Mr. Bates was her hero.
She’d lost him.
Which left her empty except for the memory of two very delicious kisses. She almost wished she’d never experienced them because she doubted she would feel the like again. Sweet hunger and desperation, wrapped together in the meeting of lips. She never thought kissing could be like that. What she’d heard from the women of her clan had been about what happened afterwards. About the harshness of the taking. No one had said that kissing could be so wonderful.
Or maybe she was just thinking about the kiss because the rest of her life didn’t bear attention.
“Were you not frightened, Mr. Bates? I would be quaking in my boots!”
“Does it hurt to punch a man like that? I would think your fingers might break!”
“Have you ever fought Gentleman Jack, Mr. Bates? I feel sure you would best him.”
“How fortunate that you were there to protect everyone, Mr. Bates. I vow I shall never be safe at another ball if you’re not in attendance.”
That last statement came from one of the leading hostesses outside of Almack’s. She didn’t quite have Lady Jersey’s status, but then her parties were a great deal more fun than an evening at Almack’s. And if she was that anxious to have Mr. Bates around, then he was set inside theton.
“But what are you going to do?”
It took a moment for Iseabail to realize that the question was directed at her and not Mr. Bates. Indeed, Sadie had to jostle her knee to gain her attention.
“What?”
“Oh, poor dear. You must be terrified. What will you do if they come for you again?”
