Page 87 of To Hunt the Hunter

Lucian laughed and crouched down to hug his niece tightly. “Quite so, love, and you’ll be watching, won’t you? Cheering me on?”

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “Pippin and Mrs Frant and I are going to sneak up to the balcony and watch from up there.”

There was a knock at the door, and Lucian’s heart thudded hard in his chest. Despite everything, he felt sick. He straightened and went to the mirror, checking his reflection before turning back to Phoebe.

“Well?” he asked, waiting as Phoebe gazed at him critically, walking a circle about him.

“Very handsome,” she declared. “She’ll be so proud of you. I am.”

“Thank you, Bee. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Me either,” she said with a sigh, lips quirking.

***

This had been a mistake. Nate was white-faced with rage and was being given a stern talking to by Jasper, who was trying in vain to calm him down. He’d just about stopped Matilda’s brother murdering some fool who’d thought to make a sly remark about her relationship with Montagu.

“Everyone is staring at me,” she said.

Aashini gave a soft laugh. “Darling, of course they are. You look incredible in that gown.”

Matilda snorted and stared down at it. It was lovely. The beautiful pure white cotton gauze was embroidered with sequins and gilt thread. It was sheer and ethereal. She’d admired it once in a shop window, and Lucian had offered to buy for her—to buy it for his mistress. She had bought it for herself and had it made into the most stunning gown she’d ever seen. It had cost her a small fortune, and she’d done it for him. At the time it had been to rub it in his face, the fact that she did not need or want his money, that she could not be bought. Now, she simply wanted him to see it, because he had wanted to see her wear it, and she wanted him to remember her like this.

She sighed and turned back to Aashini.

“That is not why they are looking,” she said bitterly.

Everyone was staring at her because they believed she was Lucian’s mistress. They knew he would announce his betrothal tonight and she knew all eyes would turn to her, waiting for her reaction to the news.

Lady Constance Rivenhall was here and kept sending scathing glances over at her. Matilda was strongly tempted to scratch her pretty eyes out. No doubt she was Lucian’s intended bride. Marguerite had always favoured her over the others. Her stomach roiled and she took a deep breath.

She would not cry.

“It’s not the only reason they are looking,” Aashini replied with a slight smile. “It’s not the only reason they look at me either.”

Matilda nodded and reached out, taking her friend's hand and gripping it tightly.

“Oh, look, there’s Prue and Bedwin,” Bonnie said.

Matilda turned to see the couple hurrying towards them, though hurrying was a relative term, as Prue looked like a ship in full sail, with her voluminous skirts doing little to disguise her pregnancy, magnificent and every inch a duchess as she swept through the crowd.

“Matilda!” she said urgently, her eyes alight with excitement.

“Prue, slow down, love,” Bedwin muttered, steadying his wife as she gasped for breath.

“Prue, what is it?” Matilda said, a little alarmed.

“Oh, Matilda!” Prue dabbed at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief, and then took hold of her hands. “Darling, it will be all right….”

“The Marquess of Montagu.”

Prue’s words were halted as Lucian was announced, and the crowd stilled, every head craning to see him standing at the top of the stairs that led down into the vast ballroom. Matilda’s breath caught, her heart speeding in her chest, so fast she feared she might do something as appalling as swoon. Aashini held her hand, gripping tightly.

“We’re here, Matilda,” Helena said quietly beside her.

Matilda knew they were. She could feel the presence of all her friends, their love for her giving her courage, giving her the ability to look up across the ballroom and meet those silver eyes, perhaps for the last time.

Oh God, he was magnificent, resplendent in his evening dress, the severe black-and-white a perfect foil for his austere beauty. He was staring at her as though he could not look away, and colour rose in her cheeks.