Page 59 of How to Best a Marquess

Ellie’s heart was not in a ball, but she could not let Grace down. Or Olivia. “Yes, of course, I’ll go with Olivia.”

Grace patted her hand like a mother soothing a child “Whatever is bothering you, I trust you to sort out. Only a week remains until we decide who gets the Raven.”

…

The carriage rolled to a stop before Lady Scotchfield’s London mansion. Torches lit the entrance of the magnificent white stone structure. Liveried servants aided well-dressed gentlemen and ladies from their carriages.

“You both look lovely this evening,” Ian said.

“I’m anxious to see who is in attendance,” Olivia said. She looked exquisite in a pale yellow dress that highlighted her fair hair. An emerald pendant and ear bobs matched her green eyes. Her sister was a romantic at heart and sought a handsome, wealthy, and titled lord who would sweep her off her feet.

The Marquess of Deveril had all three qualities.

He was also the devil.

Perhaps she needed to speak with Olivia about protecting her heart.

A servant opened the carriage door and lowered the step. Ian helped his sisters alight, and they walked up the steps and followed a stream of guests to the ballroom. Ellie smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the skirts of her green silk gown as they waited to be announced.

When it was their turn, Ellie stood at the top of the ballroom stairs and studied the crowd below. The scene was one of melted elegance, as the glittering ballroom and the warm evening resulted in a crush of lavishly dressed people overheated and vigorously fanning themselves in the humid air. A group of people stood by the open French doors hoping to catch a breeze.

A liveried majordomo stepped forward to announce them.

“The Earl of Castleton and his sisters, Lady Ellie and Lady Olivia.”

A slight hush fell through the room.

In the past, Ellie might not have noticed, but after Hugh’s confession about his parents’ dislike of her family, specifically her brother, she was highly conscious of the stares.

Did many believe the ugly rumors that Ian had purposely led Matthew to Devil’s Leap and caused his brother’s death to gain the earldom?

Ellie glanced at Olivia. If she was uncomfortable with the attention, she did not show it. Her expression was serene and her head held high. Whether it was because she recognized the stares or was ignorant of them, Ellie wasn’t certain. Either way, she was proud of her sister.

Ellie raised her chin. They had nothing to be ashamed of on Ian’s arm.

Ian escorted them to greet their hosts, Lord and Lady Scotchfield. The elderly couple were acquaintances of the former earl and were friendly and welcoming. Lady Scotchfield had an abundance of curls fading to gray, and her husband had thinning hair and a large paunch.

Ellie accepted a glass of champagne from a passing servant’s tray. She needed a drink to take the edge off her nerves tonight. Her mind kept reliving her afternoon with Hugh. Had it really been two days? At times, she felt like it had just occurred and she still could feel the strength of his arms around her; then at other moments, she felt like it had been long, long ago.

Ellie paid little attention to the majordomo as he announced the names of guests as they streamed into the already warm ballroom. “The Marquess of Deveril.”

Her head snapped to the top of the stairs.

Oh no.

He looked strikingly handsome in black formal attire. His dark hair gleamed beneath the candlelight of the chandeliers, his profile spoke of raw power and masculine grace, and his green eyes held a sheen of purpose.

“Deveril is here,” Olivia whispered from behind her fan, as if Ellie could possibly have missed the announcement.

“So? It is not a surprise.” Ellie hadn’t told a soul what had transpired in the hidden bedchamber with Hugh, not even her sister. She couldn’t bring herself to confess the truth, to admit how foolish she had allowed herself to act with him once again.

Only this time was different from the past. Even worse. She’d given him her innocence.

“Ladies are watching him,” Olivia continued.

Ellie shouldn’t care, but it was impossible not to notice a group of women speaking behind fluttering fans as they observed the marquess with hawk-like interest. Ellie’s stomach turned as she noticed one of the women was Lady Fabry herself.

Not again.