Susannah gasped. She was insulted by Lord Martin’s forwardness and felt no compunction about not sparing his feelings.
She waited until a server passed them in the hallway and then said, “But I had no desire to see you.”
He pouted, lowering his head, showing his double chin, before raising his eyes to look at her face. “How can you say that after all we meant to each other?”
She smiled confidently at him. “Because it is true, Lord Martin. I know I really should be grateful to you, but the truth is I’m not.”
His eyes lit up, and he smiled eagerly. “Grateful to me? Really?”
“Yes,” she said and waited for another server holding a tray of glasses to pass them before adding, “If you had offered to marry me twelve years ago, I would have accepted, and today I would be living a very dull life. As it is, my life has been exceedingly happy and full.”
His smile drooped. “Surely you don’t mean that.”
“I do. Now, excuse me, I was just on my way to speak to someone.”
“Wait!”
She turned away, but Lord Martin grabbed her upper arm so suddenly and firmly that Susannah gasped. “How dare you touch me,” she whispered harshly. “Take your hands off me.”
“Not until you hear what I have to say. Duchess or not, I must explain my actions of long ago.”
She tried to pull free of him. “I will not hear what you have to say. Release me immediately.”
“What’s going on here?”
Susannah heard Race’s voice behind her and turned as his protective hand settled firmly against her back. A deep wrinkle of anger marred his brow, and his gaze shot daggers at Lord Martin.
Lord Martin snatched his arm back as if she’d suddenly burned him, and he stepped away from her.
“Nothing, my lord,” Lord Martin said, pulling nervously on the tail of his coat.
“Good,” Race said and then glanced down at Susannah. “I believe this dance is mine, and it’s starting right now.” He looked back at Lord Martin and coldly said, “Touch her again and I will break your hand.”
Lord Martin huffed. “How dare you be so offensive, my lord!”
Race reached over and grabbed him by his neckcloth and shoved him aside. The trembling man stumbled back and almost fell.
“You don’t know what offensive is yet.” Race didn’t take his deadly stare off Lord Martin. “Waylay her again and you’ll find out.”
With his hand confidently on her back, Race started propelling Susannah forward.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asked as she walked beside him toward the dance floor.
“As Lord Chesterfield always used to say, ‘I’m saving you from a fate worse than death.’”
“If I wasn’t still so angry with you, I would laugh at that. You know good and well Lord Chesterfield never said anything of the kind.”
“Really?” he questioned, sweeping her with his hot gaze. “I thought he did. Must have been Gibby.”
Susannah inhaled deeply. She was too attracted to Race for her own good. Why did she want to laugh at his silly attempt at humor? Why did she feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be walking by his side? Why did just looking at him thrill her very soul? Why didn’t she hate the very sight of him for making passionate love to her one night and tearing her heart out the next morning?
“I watched Lord Martin kiss your hand as if he wanted to eat your entire arm.”
That was exactly what his kiss had felt like. She was tempted once again to smile at Race but was able to suppress the urge.
“I can manage Lord Martin without your interference or your brute help,” she assured Race.
“Can you?”
