“Of course, my lord.”He bowed.“Lady Peregrine.”He backed up a few steps before all but fleeing the ballroom.
“That was more fun than I expected.”Pere turned to her brother, offering a smile.
“It is rather delightful to put a blackguard in his place, is it not?”
“Agreed.You were masterful.I’m proud to be your sister.”
“You did well yourself, quite proper and yet concise.”
Pere curtseyed to her brother, earning her a chuckle.“It is rather bothersome though; he was ever so promising.”She gave a beleaguered sigh.“Can you now introduce me to Woodbury?”
“Haven’t given up?”
“Never.”
“I should have known.Very well, of the men you’ve chosen to… target… I don’t know if that’s the right sentiment, but we’ll use it anyway… Woodbury is one of the better ones.”
“Not a fortune hunter.”
“No.”
“That’s already an improvement from the first.”
“That’s setting the bar quite low, sister.”
“Are you going to introduce me or not?”Pere quipped, starting toward Woodbury.
“Very well, let’s go.Anna is going to be irritated she missed all this,” he seemed to muse to himself.
“I’m sorry she’s still feeling poorly.”
“She’ll feel better soon, it just takes time.Or so she tells me.”
Pere studied her brother, then dismissed his expression of hope.She’d ask about it later; she had a new suitor to charm.
But as they wove through the crowd, her gaze snagged on that shadowed pillar again.Hawthorne hadn’t moved; he stood like a statue carved from midnight, cane tapping once against the marble floor in silent applause—or warning.Their eyes locked across the ballroom, and for a heartbeat the music faded.His lips curved in the faintest smirk, as if he’d heard every word of her triumph and found it… adorable.
Pere’s chin lifted.Let him smirk.She’d just dispatched one rake with surgical precision.The next one watching her wouldn’t fare any better.
Chapter Ten
Gabriel couldn’t erasethe smirk from his face as he recollected Ramsford’s expression in speaking with Lady Peregrine.He would have given a small fortune to have overheard that conversation, but Ramsford’s countenance gave him a few clues as to how it proceeded.It was a firm setdown, of that he was certain.Ramsford had approached with a lazy charm that was insufferably confident, and as his attention turned to Lady Peregrine, he decided that making an appearance at the Devertans’ rout was actually bloody brilliant—and entertaining as well.
Her expression was frigid fire; it was a wonder Ramsford didn’t read her immediately.Perhaps he wasn’t as intelligent as Gabriel had assumed—or maybe, Gabriel considered, he was able to read Lady Peregrine better than most.
Regardless, Ramsford’s look shifted immediately, only to have the bloody fear of God put in him when Henley approached.Gabriel chuckled to himself just imagining what Henley had said to the blackguard; the veiled threat would have been horrifying coming from one so skilled at delivering a beating.
But his thoughts lingered on Lady Peregrine.She had held her head high; her words, though he couldn’t hear them, were articulated without reservation.She didn’t shrink back—there was no fear, just determination and an unwillingness to deal with Ramsford’s arrogance.
It was glorious.
She was glorious, and for a fleeting moment, he was glad he kissed her—tasted her fire, knew the strength she held within.
Too bad it was a stolen moment.
And one he could not and would not repeat.
Gabriel shifted his gaze and started toward one of the faro tables in the several rooms lining the ballroom’s perimeter.He was nearly to the room when he glanced back once more, his gaze scanning the room.His steps paused as he noted the determined strides of Henley, Lady Peregrine demurely following.
