While the strikingly handsome Duke and Duchess of Talbert performed introductions between the elegant lady in gold silk and enormous diamonds, not a soul moved. No whisper was spoken. No one needed to hear a word. Everyone knew—a shot had been declared:this lady is my potential Duchess of Hartwell; come no closer.
Fleur wanted to find an exception in Henry’s selection.
Why should he so easily find his match while Fleur had not even the name of the man she had given herself to? But she knew it wasn’t that. She knew it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with…with…
Moisture slicked her skin. The orchestra’s song drifted further away.
Fleur grasped around for purchase.
Her legs gave out from under her.
Chapter 14
“Man’s love is of man’s life a part; it is a woman’s whole existence.”
~Lord Byron
“Lady Fleur!”
Fleur found herself swarmed at every side.
An arm caught her fast about the waist.
Ears buzzing, Fleur lifted her head.
Lord Anthony Markham; the perpetual rogue’s smile he’d favored her with before had been transformed in somberness. His visage was serious and more welcome than the show he put on for her earlier.
It took too long for her to register the scandalous nature of his prolonged touch.
The rush of whispers filled her ears and blurred in her head.
She fluttered her eyes and found that the audience that previously favored the dazzling couple on the floor was now fully locked in on Fleur and Lord Markham.
She could only imagine what they thought.
The one gentleman, now with Lady Angela’s fingertips on his sleeve, towered above the rest. He frowned in Fleur’s general direction.
Then Cassia and her mother were there, absolving the gentleman of responsibility, and, as Fleur knew her mother best, rescuing the McQuoids from further scandal.
The countess placed herself gracefully between Fleur and Lord Markham. “Thank you for your aid, Lord Markham,” she said with all the regal elegance that none of her children possessed.
“…The McQuoids are vulgar and crude…”
“We are most indebted to you.”
“Not at all, my lady.” The gentleman gave his gaze to Fleur. “I am pleased I could be of help, Lady Fleur.”
Cassia came up on Fleur’s other side. “Would you be so good as to fetch a cup of lemonade for my sister?”
Fleur’s stomach turned. “That won’t be necess—”
“It will be an honor, my lady.” He gave a sharp bow and stalked off.
“Fleur?” Cassia kept an arm fastened firmly about her waist.
“I am fine,” she said, her voice shaky.
She made the mistake of looking out at Henry and Lady Angela. As the lead couple in the Spanish Dance, they were placed on the wrong sides of the set. That positioning required them to execute intricate and intimate circles around one another.
