“You look pleased, Miss Somerset. Has something in the garden amused you?”
Hyacinth turned just as Lord Dixon came through the door and joined her at the wall. Her first instinct was to move away from him, but instead she forced a polite smile. He hadn’t done a single thing to earn her wariness, and she could hardly advocate for more time for Lord Pierce without offering Lord Dixon the same courtesy.
“No, the gardens are dark and deserted, I’m afraid. The windy weather has frightened everyone away.”
“Not you.” He inched a little closer, then leaned down and braced his elbows on the top of the wall, his forearm touching hers. “I do hope you aren’t chilled.”
She was tempted to jerk her arm away from his, but she remained where she was. If she was going to flinch away every time a gentleman touched her, she may as well go back to hiding behind columns. “Oh, I’m not as delicate as you imagine, my lord.”
Lord Dixon smiled at her. “But you look so delicate, rather like a porcelain doll.”
No doubt he meant this as a compliment, but Hyacinth had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Perhaps someone should hint to Lord Dixon young ladies didn’t care to be compared to lifeless toys.
Perhapssheshould.
But Hyacinth held her tongue, and Lord Dixon took this as an encouraging sign. “I find it very fetching, Miss Somerset.” His voice lowered to a husky murmur, and he drew closer. “I findyouvery fetching.”
“You’re kind, my lord, but I’m afraid I must ask you escort me back into the ballroom at once.” Hyacinth’s instincts were warning her to back away from him, but when she retreated, he followed her. Before she knew it, they’d moved outside the rectangle of light streaming through the glass door, and into a shadowy corner of the terrace.
He fingered a loose lock of her hair, his eyes gleaming with desire. “Now, Miss Somerset. You’ve no need to be afraid of me. I simply want to see if your skin is as soft as it looks.”
“You forget yourself, my lord. Now let me pass, if you please.” Hyacinth put every bit of command into her voice she could muster, but Lord Dixon only chuckled, then raised his hand and brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek.
Hyacinth gasped with outrage, and batted his hand away.
“Shhh,” he crooned, as if he were soothing a naughty child. “I’ll let you pass, of course. I only wanted a private moment to tell you you’ve bewitched me. I flatter myself my tender sentiments are returned, and I wish to formally court you.”
Court her? Returned his sentiments! Why, they hardly knew each other! No man was so easily bewitched by a lady. Now that lady’s fortune, on the other hand....more than one fashionable London gentleman found English pounds mesmerizing enough.
Hyacinth’s heart was racing now, and she drew a deep breath to calm it. “I thank you for your kind attentions, my lord, but it’s far too early in our acquaintance for me to agree to a courtship.”
He peered down at her in genuine surprise. “I’m astonished to hear you say so, when you’ve so particularly encouraged my attentions these past weeks.”
Hyacinth gaped at him, amazed. Why, the conceit of him! Only a man of extreme arrogance could have interpreted her politeness as romantic encouragement. “If I have encouraged you, Lord Dixon, I can only offer my sincerest apologies. I never intended for my actions to imply anything more than friendship.”
Now she was finding it rather a struggle to remain friendly, given her newfound, implacable loathing for him.
But he only shrugged, as if her feelings on the matter were of little consequence. “A great many successful marriages are founded on friendship, Miss Somerset. Friendship and desire,” he added, trailing his fingers down her neck.
“I donotdesire you, Lord Dixon, and I’m afraid your behavior this evening has put an end to any chance of a courtship between us.” She squirmed away from his groping fingers. “I insist you unhand me at once, and let me pass.” Hyacinth was truly distraught now, but her voice remained calm and even, and in some distant part of her brain, she marveled at it.
Lord Dixon’s brows lowered, and his face hardened. “I’m very sorry it should have come to this, Miss Somerset, but you’ve left me no choice. If you refuse my offer, I’m afraid I’ll have to make London unpleasant indeed for your dear new friends, the Ramseys.”
Hyacinth stared up at him in confusion. She was quite sure he’d just threatened her, but she couldn’t make any sense of his meaning. What did the Ramseys have to do with Lord Dixon courting her? “I don’t understand.”
A cold smile stretched his lips. “Ah, you don’t know, do you? I thought as much. The Ramseys have been keeping a secret from you and your family, Miss Somerset, and it’s a rather ugly one. Ugly enough to end Miss Ramsey’s season, and ensure none of the Ramseys will ever be welcome in another London drawing-room. Perhaps not even the Marquess of Huntington’s. I don’t know him well, but I understand the marquess is a bit touchy about certain things. I doubt he’ll take kindly to being lied to.”
Hyacinth’s wits had scattered like a flock of birds, but she managed to raise her chin and glare at Lord Dixon. “I don’t take kindly to it either, my lord, and I think you’re lying to me right now.”
He laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. I had the story word for word from a distant cousin of mine who lives near Lochinver, where the Ramseys were born and bred. Remote place—quite wild, really. It’s a miracle their tale ever made it as far as London. No doubt they thought it wouldn’t. But you still look as if you don’t believe me, Miss Somerset. Why don’t you ask them yourself? I warn you, though, it’s a horrifying tale. Best for all concerned if it never sees the light of day. But of course that’s up to you.”
Hyacinth’s head was spinning. Why, Lord Dixon was mad, utterly mad. There was no other explanation—
But then she froze as something Lachlan had said to her that night in Lord Hayhurst’s library came back to her.
If you knew what I’d done, all I’ve done…
For a moment, she was too stunned to utter a word.
