“What was that?”
“I said, I hope I shall not live to regret this,” she said in a louder voice.
The corners of Marcus’s mouth twitched upward. “May the Almighty turn me into a Goddamn spawn of Satan if I give you any such cause.”
Augusta scannedthe crowded room yet again, wondering whether the earl had succumbed to second thoughts about the whole matter, when a low voice sounded close by her ear. She started, nearly spilled the contents of her glass.
“I took the precaution of approaching from the rear,” said Marcus with a chuckle.
“Coward,” she replied, though there was little sting to the word.
He nodded toward the open double set of doors. “Shall we take a stroll?”
“As long as this time we stay well out of range of any falling projectiles.”
“I’ll not argue with you over that. I would prefer that the precious few parts of my anatomy still unscarred remain that way.”
Though resolved to say nothing that might be considered provoking, Augusta couldn’t help but murmur, “I’m sure to you they are precious indeed.”
He only chuckled again, low and so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck. “Why shame on you, Lady Augusta. Are you thinking improper thoughts?”
It was she who was put to a violent blush.
He guided her out the doors and down a graveled path toward the center of the garden. “By the by,” he continued, seeming to take no notice of her flaming face. “I seem to recall having failed to thank you for last night. My headache might have been a great deal more severe had you not acted so quickly.”
“If you had been left with any head at all.”
“Yes, well, that is one of my body parts that I would prefer to keep attached where it is, even if you do not seem to think it contains anything of value within it.”
“I … I thought we were going to try to avoid provoking each other.”
“Ah, but I cannot help finding you … most provocative, Lady Augusta.”
“Lord Dunham—” she began
He held up a hand. “Pray, don’t fly up into the boughs. I’m just teasing you.” As they came to a wrought iron bench framed on three sides by a tall boxwood hedge, he paused. “It appears we might have a bit of privacy here.”
Augusta was intensely aware of the heat from his muscled thigh as he took a seat beside her. Lud, she chided herself, what was wrong with her that she was blushing and stuttering and making a fool of herself like some flighty schoolroom miss? She opened her reticule with a decided snap and began to rummage through its contents.
“Getting right down to business again, I see.” His arm had come up to rest on the back of the bench and she could feel the brush of soft wool against the silk of her gown.
“Why else would we be out here?” she said. Her fingers finally located the folded sheets of paper and handed them over.
He slipped them into his coat pocket but made no move to rise.
Augusta brushed at a stray curl that had fallen over her cheek. “I have been thinking a good deal about who might wish you harm, sir. Do you still believe we may eliminate disgruntled husbands or lovers?”
Marcus nodded.
“Well, that should narrow the field of suspects considerably,” she said dryly.
He choked down a bark of laughter.
“I assume you don’t cheat at cards or renege on your vowels, so we can ignore that line of inquiry as well. So, the most obvious thing is to assume that your recent speeches may have done more than ruffle a few feathers.”
There was a gleam of grudging approval in his eyes. “That’s very astute of you, Lady Augusta. I’m impressed by the power of your logic.”
“I should hope I am not quite as witless as you have been wont to think,” she mumbled, once again chiding herself for letting a casual compliment throw her insides in a tizzy, as if she were no more that the greenest of girls rather than an over-the-hill bluestocking.
