Page 67 of Sinfully Daring

“Bainbridge!” his wife exclaimed, glaring at him. “Stop misbehaving.”

“Me?” he said in outrage, pressing a hand to his chest, his eyebrows flying up. “It’s not me they’re all talking about, love. Unusual, I admit, but true.”

“Yes, but we’re not going to hold our breath, are we, old man?” Viscount Roxborough cut in, smirking at him. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Well, I like that! As if you’re a blasted angel, and I’ll have you know I’m a damned saint these days. Bella, tell them,” Bainbridge demanded of his wife, who patted his cheek in an effort to soothe him.

“I know, darling. You’ve been a very good boy. Mostly.”

Bainbridge harrumphed and accepted a glass of champagne, still scowling at his best friend.

Smothering her laughter, Rosamund glanced up at Sebastian to find his expression taut and unhappy, his expression distant and unfocused.

“Hargreaves? My lord.” She tugged his sleeve.

His attention snapped to her at once and he returned a crooked smile. “I did say that, you know. That I’d cut my own throat before I caused you any harm. Well, look how that turned out.”

“Yes, isn’t it splendid?” Rosamund replied serenely, holding his gaze.

Slowly, his tense expression eased, replaced by something warm and mischievous. “You know, you’re absolutely right. Well, apart from the fact everyone thinks I’m a murderer, and we’re the scandal of the century, but yes…. It is splendid.”

Relieved by his smile Rosamund looked around them and stiffened.

“Oh, look, there’s Miss Morcombe,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to see above the crowd. She strained to get a better look at her, trying to detect any noticeable change to her waistline but there were too many people between them to tell. “I must speak to her. I think if I can get her alone, she might confide in me.”

Sebastian frowned. “To get her alone, you’d need to be alone, too. I think you ought to stay close, love.”

Rosamund laid her hand on his arm and smiled. “You’re sweet to wish to protect me, but this is the reason we came.”

“I thought we came to show people we have nothing to be ashamed of,” he countered, watching her.

“Of course, that too. But they would know that all the quicker if there was a witness who could prove you were free of any wrongdoing. It’s worth a try, Sebastian, and these people don’t scare me. Let them talk if they wish to, they will not shame me. I shall not allow it.”

He still looked unhappy at the idea of letting her out of his sight, and outside the protective circle of their friends and family, but pride shone in his eyes, too. “Very well. I know better than anyone how strong and brave you are. Go on, then, but know I will not be far away.”

“That is the reason I am strong and brave,” Rosamund assured him, before steeling her nerve and setting off in pursuit of Miss Morcombe.

It really was an absolute crush with upwards of four hundred people in the ballroom alone, never mind those who were making use of the card rooms or walking in the gardens. Rosamund did her best to ignore the stares and none too subtle comments. Head up, she reminded herself she outranked many of the people here and that she didn’t give a fig what they thought of her. By the time Rosamund had caught sight of Miss Morcombe again and pushed through the crowd in pursuit, she was hot and irritated beyond endurance. With every step, she heard more whispers, gasps, and giggles from behind fluttering fans. Some people delighted in speaking loud enough to ensure she heard their vile insinuations, others just tittered and smirked, but there were those who stopped her and offered congratulations, or a kind word and an encouraging smile. She took heart from those encounters.

“Rosamund! Oh, I’ve had such a battle to get over here,” Evie said, hurrying up to her, flushed and breathless. “Are you well? Congratulations, Lady Hargreaves, I’m so proud of you, and all those tattle mongers can go and boil their heads,” she added, speaking loud enough that everyone around them could certainly hear her.

Rosamund laughed and took her arm. “Thank you, Evie, but come along, quickly. I’m in pursuit of Miss Morcombe. I must speak to her privately.”

“Oh, an intrigue? What’s happening?”

Not wanting to risk being overheard, Rosamund shook her head. “I can’t explain right now, but I must speak to her.”

Evie nodded, and Rosamund knew she was too good a friend to press her for anything more.

Instead, she nodded. “Very well. I understand.”

“Oh, we’ll never catch her in this crush,” Rosamund exclaimed as she glimpsed Miss Morcombe exit the ballroom through the press of bodies ahead of them.

“Well, she must be going to either the retirement rooms or for refreshment. Felix is a great friend of Mrs Belvedere’s son, you know, and I’ve been to the house several times. I know a shortcut. This way.” Evie grasped her hand and towed her in the opposite direction, the two of them forcing their way through the throng. The crowd thinned and Evie paused as she saw the Comte de Villen watching her intently from the far side of the room. The searing look in his bright blue eyes made Rosamund gasp and glance at Evie, who blushed scarlet.

“Evie?”

“Not now,” she whispered, her voice taut. “I can’t explain now either. Let’s find your Miss Morcombe.”