But that wasn’t what he did.
Instead he reached down, grasped her gloved hand gently in his own and urged her to her feet. “I promise I’ll take care of you, Lucy. Don’t you trust me?”
The tiny frown line between her eyes disappeared and her face went soft. “Of course, I do. More than anyone. It’s just…I’m not certain it’s a good idea.”
“I am.” He wasn’t, but he smiled down at her as if he was.
She smiled back, and the lovely brown eyes that made his chest ache went soft and warm. She raised her hand to take his, but just as her fingertips grazed the palm of his glove she froze, her smile vanishing as she stared at something over his shoulder.
“Lucy.” Mrs. Jarvis turned suddenly toward her niece, her voice high with warning.
Ciaran turned to follow their gaze, and his chest went tight.
Jarvis was coming toward them, with Lord Godfrey on his heels. Ciaran had never seen two men who looked more like villains than these two. Jarvis wore such a smug smirk on his face Ciaran’s fist twitched with longing, and Godfrey…
Jesus, he looked like a vulture, salivating as he circled his prey.
Ciaran tensed, his body vibrating with suppressed aggression as Jarvis and Godfrey drew closer. He wanted to leap in front of Lucy, to protect her, but just as he moved to shield her, Jarvis and Godfrey were already upon them.
Ciaran narrowed his eyes as Godfrey sketched an extravagant bow before Lucy. “Good evening, my dear.”
My dear?Ciaran stiffened. Who the devil did the old scoundrel think he was, addressing her in such a familiar manner? As much as Godfrey might wish it otherwise, Lucywasn’this betrothed.
“You look as lovely as ever this evening.” Godfrey’s gaze swept over Lucy, his pale gray eyes glittering with possessiveness. “I’d be honored to escort you to the dance floor.”
Godfrey held out his hand to her with an assured air, as if he hadn’t the least expectation of being denied. Ciaran saw Lucy try and suppress a shudder of revulsion. “That’s kind of you, my lord, but I don’t intend to dance this evening. I’m a trifle fatigued tonight.”
“Nonsense, girl.” Jarvis scowled at Lucy, his face flushing with anger. “Lord Godfrey is honoring you with his attentions. You will dance for as long as he wishes it.”
“No, Augustus.” Mrs. Jarvis’s voice was sharper than Ciaran had ever heard it. “The child looks pale, and she said she’s fatigued. I won’t let youforceher.”
Jarvis said nothing, but he gave his wife a look that made her shrink back in her chair before he turned his icy gaze back to his niece. “Do as you’re bid this instant, Lucinda.”
It was the same ugly scene that had played out at Lady Ivey’s ball all over again, except this time Ciaran was determined to put a stop to it.
He was about to give in to his fantasy of leaping on Jarvis and pummeling him into the ballroom floor when Lucy gave Godfrey her hand. “Yes, I—yes, of course. I’d be pleased to dance with you, Lord Godfrey.”
“Splendid,” Godfrey said, darting a look of smug triumph at Ciaran as he clamped his hand over hers and dragged her toward the floor.
Ciaran started to go after them, but Lucy shot an anxious glance at him over her shoulder. It was a plea, and it was as clear as if she’s spoken it aloud.
Please don’t make a scene.
Ciaran was shaking with anger, but Lucy was right. A scene would only make it worse for her. So, he stood there helplessly while Godfrey manhandled Lucy as if she were his prized possession, like a pretty piece of art, or an enviable bit of horseflesh.
One dance, and then another…
By the end of the second dance Ciaran was ready to explode with impotent rage, but what happened next was far, far worse.
The last notes of the music faded, but Godfrey didn’t escort Lucy off the dance floor. Ciaran saw her disentangle herself from his grip and try to move back toward her aunt, but before she’d taken two steps she stopped, her face going pale.
The other couples shifted, and some left the floor. A new set assembled, and then, unbelievably, the music began again.
A red haze descended over Ciaran as Godfrey swept Lucy into the dance.
Theirthirddance.
Ciaran stood on the edges of the ballroom, frozen with fury as Godfrey forced Lucy to waltz with him.
