The Marriage Truce. Ann Elizabeth Cree

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      She glanced around and saw that Lord Henslowe was indeed watching them with his most thunderous look. She turned away, feeling even more impatient. ‘This is the most ridiculous…. really, there is no reason why anyone shouldn’t take whichever side of the room they want. Or speak with whomever they choose.’

      His brow rose again. ‘Does that mean you are here because you wish to talk to me?’

      ‘No! Must you…’ Over his shoulder she saw Cedric had broken away from Amelia and was peering around the room. He caught sight of her and started in her direction. ‘Please excuse me, I cannot stand here trading nonsense with you.’

      Huntington still watched her in that lazy way that made her want to hit him. ‘Then perhaps you would consider continuing the, er, nonsense while we danced.’

      Her mouth fell open and hot colour rushed to her cheeks. ‘I…I pray you will not tease me in such a fashion.’ She backed away. ‘I…I really must find my…my grandfather.’ She dashed away towards the open doors leading to the veranda and had no idea whether it was Huntington or Blanton that she wanted to escape most.

      Dev watched Sarah Chandler brush through the double doors that opened on the veranda. She was looking for Lord Monteville in the garden? She would do better to try the card room.

      He frowned. What the hell came over him every time he saw her? He had no idea why he wanted to tease her out of the wary disapproval with which she regarded him. Or bring a blush to her lovely cheeks. If he had an ounce of sense, he’d stay out of her way. Certainly, from the horrified look on her face when he suggested she dance with him, she fervently wished he would.

      ‘At daggers drawn again, I see. Now, what devilish thing did you say to Miss Chandler to cause her to run off?’ His cousin Lord Jeremy Pennington, appeared at his side.

      Dev quirked a brow. ‘I merely asked her to stand up with me.’

      ‘Not quite the usual reaction to such a request from you. Not that I blame her. You seem determined to needle her.’

      ‘I cannot help it if she regards me as the devil incarnate.’

      Jeremy glanced at him. ‘She has nothing to do with her brother’s sins.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I don’t suppose you would consider some sort of reconciliation? It’s bound to make things a trifle awkward now with Jessica and Adam.’

      Dev shrugged. ‘Even if I should wish that, I doubt if Miss Chandler would agree.’

      Jeremy looked at him, a little smile at his lips. ‘I was not speaking particularly of Miss Chandler.’

      Dev frowned, and then his attention was caught by Cedric Blanton who stood at the doors leading to the garden. He seemed to be looking at something outside. And Dev had a good idea what it was. His fawning after Sarah Chandler in London had been obvious to any fool. It made Dev exceedingly uneasy, particularly after a houseparty Dev had attended last summer where Blanton had also been a guest. Blanton had pursued the Duke of Wrexton’s daughter in the same fashion. Like Sarah, Lady Alethea had attempted to avoid the man as much as possible. She’d been successful until the picnic two days before they were to leave. And then Dev had caught Blanton almost ravishing the girl near a thicket of bushes by the lake. Dev had stopped him, barely restraining himself from mowing the man down. Only the knowledge of the certain scandal and insult to Lady Alethea’s name that would be the certain result kept him from doing so. Instead, he’d threatened to ruin Blanton if a word of it leaked out.

      The music had stopped and a footman appeared to announce the supper. Jeremy glanced at him. ‘Coming? Aunt Beatrice has commanded that I escort her. I’ve no desire for a scold if I don’t appear on time.’

      ‘Not yet.’ He shifted his attention back to Blanton, who still stood in the doorway.

      Jeremy gave him a curious look. ‘Later, then.’

      Dev watched Blanton disappear through the French doors. He frowned. Was Sarah Chandler still foolish enough to be outside? A quick search of the guests milling towards the doors and out of the ballroom revealed no sign of a slight figure with a crown of rich auburn hair in a cream-coloured gown. And surely he’d have noticed if she had come back in.

      He stalked towards the terrace doors, wondering what sort of a fool he was about to become. If she were there, she would probably stare at him with her calm, collected look as if he was partially invisible.

      The garden was cool and dark. A veil of wispy clouds covered the moon. He walked to the edge of the terrace and looked down into the garden. At first he saw nothing, then he heard voices coming from the shrubbery. He moved down the steps with a light tread. He rounded the edge of the circle of shrubs, just in time to see a woman struggling in Blanton’s arms. She suddenly yanked away and Blanton grabbed for her. There was an ominous sound of ripped fabric. And Dev caught a glimpse of Sarah Chandler’s frightened face.

      ‘Let me go!’

      ‘No, my dear, I must speak to you,’ Blanton said smoothly.

      Without a second thought, Dev stepped forward. ‘I suggest you do as the lady asks.’

      The two froze. Blanton’s head whipped around and he stared at Dev, his eyes unfocused. Then he glared, hatred shooting across his face. ‘What do you mean by interrupting a private conversation, my lord?’

      Dev regarded him coolly. ‘If you wish to hold a private conversation, I suggest you find somewhere less public than this. Particularly during a ball.’ His eyes briefly swept over Sarah. She stared at him, her arms crossed over her breast, trying to hide the damage to her bodice. She looked dismayed, shocked and completely miserable. He fought to keep his fury at bay. ‘Although the lady does not appear to particularly enjoy your conversation.’

      Blanton took a step towards him, his chin trembling with anger. ‘What do you mean by that?’

      ‘It should be obvious. Miss Chandler wished to go and you attempted to detain her by force,’ he said indifferently.

      Blanton tugged at his stock. ‘It was hardly by force. And she is my fiancée.’

      Sarah gasped. ‘I am not!’

      Blanton turned to her. ‘But you will have to marry me. It will hardly do to have it spread about that we were alone together and you were allowing my embrace. Your reputation will be ruined.’

      ‘No,’ she whispered.

      ‘Such lengths are unnecessary.’ Dev folded his arms across his chest, regarding Blanton with contempt. ‘I’ve no intention of mentioning this particular conversation.’

      ‘I have no reason to trust your word.’ Blanton looked as if he held a trump card. ‘You detest the Chandlers. What better method of revenging yourself than by destroying Miss Chandler’s reputation? It would bring disgrace down upon her entire family.’

      ‘You are mistaken. I would no more enact revenge by ruining a lady’s reputation than I would force her into marriage by the same means.’ Dev took a step towards him. ‘So, unless you wish to meet me tomorrow, I suggest you keep such speculations to yourself.’

      Blanton stiffened, fury СКАЧАТЬ