She looked away
“Besides, the tabbies looked as if they could do with something else to talk about. Oh, by the by, what was the topic of such a spirited discussion?”
“Never mind.” On hearing him chuckle, she quickly added, “I warn you, I refuse to be drawn into further argument with you on the subject,” she continued rather tartly.
“I have no intention of brangling anymore tonight,” he replied mildly, his head bent close to her ear.
She swallowed hard. “What … whatareyour intentions, then?”
“Why, to dance, Gus.”
He took hold of her hands, and though the figures did not allow quite the same intimacy as a waltz, Marcus felt a surge of pleasure. The light touch of her fingers, the faint scent of her perfume, the brush of her gown against his thighs—closing his eyes for a moment, he savored the very nearness of her.
Then he took a peek at her rigid features.
Ye heavens, was she really so unmoved by the change in their relationship? Why, he could hardly stop thinking of the taste of her mouth, the texture of her tresses, the softness of her breasts. And yet here she was, by all appearances according their recent intimacies no importance at all.
Marcus found himself nearly bungling a simple step.Did they really mean so little to her? Another quick glance showed only an expression shuttered to any probing looks. At the time, he had thought her not entirely adverse to his heated kisses. In fact, she had seemed to return them with a certain spark of herown.But now?He held back a sigh. Earlier in the day, she had snapped an angry retort to the effect that had she known he was Tinder, she never would have revealed so much of herself. Was it such a sad disappointment, then, for her to learn that her intimate friend was … him?
The thought wasn’t at all a pleasant one.
“Sir.” There was a brief pause. “Marcus.”
His head jerked around.
“The music has stopped,” she said in a low voice.
“Hmph. So it has.”
That drew a ghost of a smile from her. “Engrossed in thinking of ways to do bodily harm to me?” she inquired lightly.
Marcus drew in a breath. Her body had most definitely been figuring in his thoughts, but hardly as she imagined. Forcing a semblance of a smile, he made a noncommittal sound in his throat as he led her from the floor.
Her brows drew together for an instant on taking in his enigmatic expression, then she suddenly changed the subject. “You were engaged in a long conversation with my sister.” There was a hint of question in the terse statement.
Ah. So she had not been entirely unaware of his moments.“Yes, a quite enjoyable one,” he replied, and his smile became genuine. “Allow me to apologize again for my earlier foolish comments. You were entirely right to ring a peal over my head. Your sister is a most interesting young lady—charming, perceptive, intelligent.”
To his surprise, he felt Augusta’s hand stiffen on his arm. “Yes,” she replied. “Marianne is a very special person.”
Marcus thought he detected a note of brittleness in her voice. Puzzled, he gave up any designs of leading her toward the garden. Her mood seemed as unsettled as his own, and rather than risk further fireworks, he turned their steps back in the direction of the cluster of tabbies.
“Thank you for the dance,” he murmured politely, bowing over her hand. “Good evening, Lady Augusta.” Without waiting for a reply, he gave a rakish smile to the three elderly ladies and strolled away.
Augusta swallowed hard,trying to dislodge the lump in her throat.
So, the earl found her sister … interesting.
It was hardly surprising, she told herself. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny stab of jealousy knife through her on recalling his dark head bent close to Marianne’s in earnest conversation. An instant later, she was ashamed of such base emotion, but contrition did little to improve her depressed spirits. If only she had a crumb of Marianne’s easy manner with gentlemen.
She blinked back the sting of a tear. Well, it was no use wishing for the moon. The only thing she did have to recommend herself was her brain, so she might as well concentrate her efforts on putting it to some use.
And so, she forced her thoughts away from Marcus and back to the formidable task of how to trap a dastardly villain.
Thirteen
“Well? You’ve had over a day. What have you discovered?”
Marcus had to repress a bark of reluctant laughter at how changed in tone her correspondence had become. No more warm greetings, no more frank exchange of opinions or feelings.
