Page 62 of How to Best a Marquess

A raging jealousy overtook Hugh. Not on your life, Osbourne.

Lady Fabry stepped closer and tapped Hugh’s chest with her fan. “It’s quite stuffy in here. Perhaps you would escort me onto the terrace.”

Somehow Hugh retained his affability, but there was distinct hardening of his voice. “I’m sure Lord Fabry would be more than happy to oblige you as his wife.”

The lady’s eyes narrowed a fraction, but Hugh turned away.

He was going to the terrace, but damned if he would escort Lady Fabry with him.

…

“A lovely night for a lovely lady.”

The compliment flowed smoothly from Lord Osbourne’s lips. Ellie saw him for who he was. A seducer of women. She saw, and she didn’t mind. He was perfect to distract her from the couple inside the ballroom.

Memories of Hugh surfaced in her mind. She pushed them aside.

No.

She would not think of him and a certain lady together. Pain inched inside her chest, twisting like a knife. She grasped the iron terrace balustrade and faced the gardens, then squeezed her eyes shut.

“Ah, you are thinking of him,” Osbourne said, his voice as smooth as brandy.

“I’m trying not to.” Denial didn’t even cross her mind.

He pressed a hand to his chest. “You may use me to forget him. Truly, I do not mind.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. He was a scoundrel of the worst sort. But he didn’t try to hide his true nature.

Unlike the devil marquess.

“May I escort you on a tour of the gardens?” Osbourne asked.

She gazed down at the gardens. Lanterns lit paths and created a whimsical, romantic atmosphere. The sweet scent of flowering shrubs filled the air. An intricate maze wound through the grounds and offered the perfect seclusion for a romantic tryst. A Chinese-inspired gondola could be seen in the distance.

She knew Osbourne’s intent if she allowed him to take her on the path. He’d try to kiss her.

Would another man’s kiss erase Hugh’s from her mind? The shrubbery below blurred as the thought took hold, like a cold fist in her chest.

“Well, well. What do we have here?”

As if she had conjured him, she started and turned to see Deveril standing in the entrance of the French doors. The ballroom chandeliers illuminated half his face, the other half shrouded in shadows. From what she could see of him, he looked angry.

And jealous.

He had no right to exhibit either emotion.

“Lord Deveril. I should have known,” Lord Osbourne said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hugh asked.

Osbourne shook his head. “Nothing of consequence. You may occupy the terrace by yourself. I was just about to escort the lady on a garden tour.”

“Like hell you are.”

Osbourne cocked an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Hugh stepped away from the French doors and onto the terrace. “You heard correctly. You will not be taking the lady anywhere. I will do the honors.”