Lord Dixon mistook her silence for acquiescence, and a satisfied smile crossed his lips. “Ah, I knew you were a clever girl.”
A clever girl…
Yes, shewasclever—far cleverer than he imagined. Far too clever to allow herself to be coerced into a courtship, much less a marriage, but she had no intention of saying so until she knew more about the Ramseys’ allegedly shocking, ruinous secret.
For his part, Lord Dixon seemed to consider the matter of their courtship settled. “Tell me, Miss Somerset.” He lowered his face so his mouth hovered over hers, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Are you lips as soft as your skin?”
Hyacinth jerked her head to the side, and slammed her palms against his chest in an instinctive bid to shove him back, but he was far larger and stronger than she was, and she found herself scrabbling at any part of him she could reach in a desperate effort to fend him off. She’d managed to grasp his waistcoat when all at once he was yanked aside, and she was left clutching at empty air.
“You’ve made a mistake, Dixon.” The voice was low, harsh and furious, and so was the vicious wrench that sent Lord Dixon across the terrace and into the opposite wall.
Hyacinth staggered, but she caught herself before she fell, and looked up in time to see…
Oh, dear God.
Her eyes widened at the savage look on Lachlan’s face as he advanced on Lord Dixon. “Lachlan, wait!” She leapt forward and grabbed his arm, and Lord Dixon wisely took that moment to stumble to his feet.
“Did you touch her, Dixon? Did youdare?” Lachlan’s voice was low and controlled, but there was no mistaking the icy menace there. It was far more terrifying than if he’d fallen into a rage.
Lord Dixon seemed to agree, because he lost no time hurrying toward the door to the ballroom. “It’s none of your concern, Ramsey,” he spat, as soon as he’d put a safe distance between them. “But if you must know, Miss Somerset has just agreed to accept my courtship.”
Oh, no. Hyacinth’s eyes dropped closed, but they flew open again when she felt the muscles in Lachlan’s arm go rigid under her fingers. She didn’t release him, but gripped harder, certain he wouldn’t risk hurting her by yanking his arm away.
“I see. Did you mistake Lord Pomeroy’s terrace for your bridal bed?”
Lord Dixon bristled. “Now see here, Ramsey—”
“You’ll take care not to make that mistake again, Dixon, if you want to live to see your wedding night.”
That threat was more than enough to scare off a braver man than Lord Dixon. He tugged his waistcoat down with a sharp jerk, and bowed to Hyacinth. “I bid you good evening, Miss Somerset.” But when he straightened, his gaze caught hers, and there was no mistaking the warning there.
A chill shot down Hyacinth’s spine. Dear God, he was utterly serious. Whatever secret he had, he was certain it would ruin the Ramseys, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Hyacinth thought of Isla, of the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of Lord Pierce, and a cold, tight feeling squeezed her chest.
“Are you all right?”
Hyacinth jerked her attention back to Lachlan. He was standing before her, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure.
“Yes, I…yes, I’m quite all right.”
Lachlan dragged his hands down his face, and when he looked at her again, she was shocked to see how pale he was.
“Hyacinth, you can’teverlet any man lead you out onto a dark terrace alone, especially a man like Dixon. Even if you are courting,” he added, his voice hoarse.
“I—” It was on the tip of Hyacinth’s tongue to say she hadn’t agreed to a courtship, and never would, but something made her hesitate. If Lord Dixon truly did have a terrible secret about the Ramseys, she’d do whatever she could to stop him from telling it.
Short of marrying the scoundrel, that is.
But a courtship—Lord Dixon assumed she’d agreed to it, and as long as he thought so, he’d keep quiet about whatever rumor he’d heard.
Provided itwasa rumor. If it was the truth…
What then? Hyacinth drew a deep breath and fought back the panic that threatened to engulf her. “I didn’t come out to the terrace with him, Lachlan. I came out with Isla. Lord Dixon must have followed me.”
This didn’t seem to reassure Lachlan, who regarded her with bleak eyes. “Dixon’s not like Lord Chester, Hyacinth. He’s not your friend. You’ve got to be on your guard against him. Swear to me you won’t go off alone with him again. He’s…I don’t trust him.”
Nor should you.
But Hyacinth didn’t say this. She only nodded. “I won’t do so again. I swear it.”
