“Lachlan?” Hyacinth’s heart stuttered to a stop, then surged to life again with a painful thud. “What of him?”
“He’s, ah…well, he’s in a bit of a temper, I’m afraid. We knew he’d be angry to find you were still in London, but the moment he saw you enter the ballroom, a scowl blacker that the depths of Hades spread over his face. I didn’t think he’d bequitesolivid. It’s a bit peculiar, isn’t it? But I must go. I’ll come find you again after the dance.”
Isla hurried off without waiting for a reply, which was fortunate, since at that moment Hyacinth couldn’t have squeezed a single word through her lips in answer.
Lachlan had caught her eye from across the ballroom, and he looked…
Oh, dear God.
Isla was right. He was furious, and he was headed in Hyacinth’s direction.
Isla met him halfway across the ballroom. She caught his arm and spoke to him for a moment, her lips moving rapidly, but even from this distance, Hyacinth could see Lachlan wasn’t listening. He watched her over Isla’s shoulder, his dark gaze raising gooseflesh on every inch of her skin.
When Isla fell silent, Lachlan stalked away from her without a single word.
Hyacinth looked to one side, then the other, then behind her, but there was nowhere for her to go, and even if there had been, she wasn’t going to run away from him. For better or worse, at least now she had his attention.
She straightened her shoulders, folded her hands in front of her, and waited.
It didn’t take long. The ballroom was crowded, but predictably, everyone scurried out of Lachlan’s way. Hyacinth had hardly caught her breath before he was standing before her.
He didn’t say a word. He paused for a moment, his eyes on hers, and then his gaze drifted upward. A muscle in his jaw jerked as he took in her jeweled headband, the mass of fair ringlets gathered at the back of her head, and the long curls trailing down her face to brush her shoulders.
And then…and then, dear God, his gaze drifted downward.
Slowly, deliberately, those hazel eyes took her in, and he saw everything. The frantic pulse beating at the base of her throat, the flush spreading over her bare neck and shoulders. She’d been obliged to lace more tightly than usual to accommodate the snug fit of her bodice, and now his hot gaze lingered on the high curves of her breasts rising from the clinging violet silk.
Hyacinth couldn’t prevent a soft gasp at this blatant appraisal, at the way his lips parted as he skimmed over the trim curve of her waist, the gentle swell of her hips, and lower, over the outline of her legs just visible through the filmy silk. He devoured every inch of her, leaving her breathless, and far warmer than she should be, considering how much of her flesh was exposed.
By the time he’d completed his journey down her body, high spots of color had appeared on his cheekbones. The rapid rise and fall of his chest hinted at something besides anger, but one thing was certain. Whatever else he was feeling, Lachlan Ramsey was angrier than she’d ever seen him.
“What,” he growled through tight lips, “Are you doing here, and why are you wearing that gown?”
How dare you…it’s none of your concern…you have no right to question my whereabouts or the gown I choose to wear...
Because I wanted you to look at me…
All of these responses flew through Hyacinth’s head, but the only one that made it to her lips was, “Don’t you like it?”
She cringed at the hopeful note in her voice. She hadn’t worn the gown just for him, and yet she couldn’t deny she wanted him to like the way she looked. She raised her chin a notch in a rare show of feminine pride.
“Like it? Oh, I like it,aingeal. Every man in this bloody ballroom likes it.”
Hyacinth’s eyes went wide. His lips had gone white, and his voice was a husky rasp. Was he…jealous?
“But that’s not what I asked you.” He stepped closer, and his hand closed around her upper arm. “I asked why you’re here, and why you’re wearingthat.”
Her chin inched up. “You were the one who told me to stop hiding behind columns, Lachlan. I’m only following your advice.”
A low laugh scraped from his throat, and he drew her closer. “Oh, you won’t be able to hide behind a column tonight.” He drew his finger down a fold of her gown. “Not without every man in this ballroom following after you. Is that why you’re dressed like a Cyprian,leannan? Because youwantthem all to gawk at you?”
Hyacinth’s mouth dropped open in shock.Cyprian?
Hot anger flooded through her, and she jerked her arm from his grasp. “Howdareyou? I don’t look like a Cyprian, and the only one gawking at me isyou.”
She was rather proud of this speech—not a single stammer!—but Lachlan’s face darkened. “Look around you. There isn’t a single man in here who isn’t gaping at you, and down to the last one of them, they’re wishing they could get their hands on you.”
She huffed out a breath. “So what if they are? It’s my season, remember? Attracting the attention of eligible gentlemen is rather the point.”
