‘Hello, Lucius.’ Abigail looked suitably tragic stood all alone and blocking his exit. ‘Are you still angry at me?’
Yes! Of course he was. She had grievously insulted the woman of his dreams and rubbished her entire family. ‘Can wenottalk about this now?’ Not when Hope might well be at the mercy of another drooling scoundrel who did not understand what the word no meant!
‘I never intended to upset you... I was trying to protect you, Lucius.’
‘No, Abigail, you were trying to protect yourself. Heaven forbid your precious reputation be tarnished in any way by my scandals.’
‘I will make no apologies for trying to protect you from making a grave mistake but I do not want us to fall out over it. Especially as so much of my life is still too miserable for words.’
Code, no doubt, that she only wanted to heal this latest breach because she still didn’t have the deeds to the Mayfair house clutched in her grabbing claws. ‘I’ll chase the solicitor again in the morning!’
‘The longer it all drags on, the more anxious I feel. And with you and me not speaking, I have been so...’ Luke instantly stopped listening when Hope and his mother tumbled through the French doors laughing.
‘There you are!’ The relief that she was not being mauled by dogs was palpable. ‘I have been looking for you everywhere.’
‘You see, dear, I told you he was besotted.’ His mother was wearing her most meddlesome expression as she nudged Hope, but Hope’s expression had hardened at the sight of Abigail.
‘My lady.’ She didn’t curtsy either, but instead dragged a layer of frost into the alcove which effectively froze everything, including his mother who was also bristling simply because Hope was.
‘Miss Brookes.’ Abigail’s eyes swept Hope’s bold gown with more than her usual customary disdain. ‘Scarlet is most definitely your colour.’ Then her eyes flicked to his mother and all hint of disapproval disappeared as she dipped into a deep curtsy herself. ‘My lady...it is an honour to finally meet you.’
As Hope and his sister-in-law already seemed to be properly acquainted, and clearly hated one another, politeness dictated he should say something to relieve the awkwardness. ‘Mother, this is Lady Abigail Thundersley, the Marchioness of Thundersley... Abigail, this is my mother Lady Maria Thundersley, the Dowager Marchioness of Thundersley.’
His usually friendly and talkative mother barely inclined her head and, for the first time in her life, never uttered a single word.
After several truly excruciating seconds of complete silence, an obviously uncomfortable Abigail slid her hand through his arm. ‘I was about to see if I could convince dear Lucius to dance with me as I haven’t waltzed in for ever.’
‘Unfortunately, he promised it to me.’ Hope was daring him to contradict her, perhaps not realising she was actually the cavalry and he was so relieved he could kiss her for it. ‘I presume that was why you were searching for me, Luke?’
‘That it was.’
‘Then you had best get to it as it’s starting.’ His mother had apparently found her voice, and with it, she sailed off into the crowd.
In case he was tempted to linger, which he really wasn’t, Hope’s arm now claimed his proprietorially. ‘And if you will excuse us too.’ Without any further ado she led him to the floor.
She waited until they were in the very centre of it before she dipped into a graceful curtsy, her beautiful eyes never once leaving his as she held out her hand. It was only then that he noticed her silly fichu was gone and the acres of creamy, feminine skin now exposed instantly made his mouth dry. As she moved into his arms, there was something interesting swirling in her green eyes as they started to move, and he got the distinct impression, whatever it was, it had little to do with proving her point to Abigail.
‘I thought you wanted me to maintain a respectable distance from you at all times.’
‘It is a lady’s prerogative to change her mind.’
‘Even though tongues will wag?’
‘There is no point closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.’ She shrugged, her smile as affectionate as the ones she bestowed when they were all alone. ‘I have just discovered your mother knows about us. And byknow, I mean she is aware we have adjoining balconies and that our relationship isn’t exactly platonic.’
‘Well, I certainly didn’t tell her.’ Even though frequently of late, he had wanted to shout about it to everyone.
‘My mother knows too, though probably not about the balcony as you are still breathing and I am not in a nunnery. And if she knows then my father knows because my mother tells him everything. And Charity has known since the outset, including the kiss by the fountain because she used blackmail to prise it out of me—although I never told her about you being naked that time—though I wouldn’t put it past her to know we meet out on the balcony too because once she has an idea in her head, she’s like a dog with a bone. And if Charity knows, then you can be sure she has made sure that Faith knows too.’ She sighed then and stared out at the sea of people who were doing their best not to make it obvious they were watching them with interest. ‘Look at them. They all know.’ She jerked her head in their direction. ‘The newspapers know. Apparently everyone knows about us.’
‘I know.’ Luke tried not to look too smug because he knew that vexed her, but he couldn’t help a bit leaking out and this earned him a haughty glare. ‘I think, at this stage, we are the worst kept secret in London.’
‘Evidently.’ She sighed as she smiled. ‘Therefore, you will be delighted to also know that I have decided to embrace the public exposure by making our courtship completely official with a definitive statement which cannot be misconstrued. Hence this waltz. When everybody knows I rarely dance, and I have certainly never danced this in public. Consider yourself honoured, Lord Trouble.’
He did. The only way Hope would take such a big step was if she trusted him completely. ‘Does this mean I can publicly tell you that you have never looked more ravishing?’
‘It does.’ Her arm snaked tighter around his shoulder, bringing her delectable body scant inches from his and scandalously closer than propriety allowed. ‘Furthermore, if you manage to finish this waltz without once stomping on my toes with your big, cloddish Cornish feet, I might even allow you to ravish me by the fountain afterwards. And with no fear of my pushing you in it either.’
That hadn’t been an empty promise. As soon as the dance was done, they crept out into the garden, and indulged in the most splendid mutual ravishing which Luke was still reeling from hours afterwards. There was no chance of all that lust abating any time soon either, as the moment she emerged on the balcony in that seductive red gown, every drop of blood he possessed rushed to his groin and still seemed to have no desire to leave it an hour in.
