Page 42 of The Devil to Pay

“M-Mr Briggs,” she replied, unnerved to discover her voice sounding so faint and unlike herself.

He winced, his expression rueful. “About that, Davenport… We need to talk.”

“But what are you doing here?” she asked, confounded.

“Trying to talk to you,” he said, grimacing as he looked around to discover everyone was watching them and hardly being subtle about it either.

“Oh, yes, because a public dance is the ideal place for a private conversation,” she replied dryly.

His lips twitched. “I do enjoy it when you put me in my place, Boadicea, but needs must. I’ll take all your waltzes, if you please.”

“There’s only one left,” she replied, not without some satisfaction.

He glowered at her. “Damn it, Davenport,” he said, frustration vibrating from him. He turned to Abigail and smiled. “Fetch your sister a glass of lemonade, if you please.”

“But we have a glass, we’re sharing it,” Selina objected, not wishing to subject Abigail to fighting her way through the crowd again.

Abigail, however, looked at the glinting green eyes fixed upon her thoughtfully, and returned a grin. “Yes, of course. Though it might take me a while,” she added, with a saucy tone Selina did not understand.

“Good girl,” Mark replied approvingly, watching her go, before turning back to Selin and lowering his voice. “I ought never to have left last night, not with so much unsaid, only… I had to. You do see that?”

“Yes, you need to go back to town shortly. I quite understand,” she replied, telling her irrational heart that there was not the slightest need to get its hopes up.

He wasn’t here for romantic reasons. That was just silliness, and she should stop feeling all flushed and faint and breathless, for she would only end up feeling a fool.

“No!” he muttered, irritated now. “That is not why.”

“Then, what is?” she demanded, resenting him for crashing in upon her evening and looking so gloriously handsome and making every other man here look dull and unappealing in contrast. It wasn’t fair.

“Because, you little nitwit, I would have seduced you had I stayed, and you’d not have done a thing to stop me,” he growled in her ear.

Selina felt the blush surge up her chest, her throat, and scald her cheeks.

“Good God, stop that. Everyone will know what I’m talking to you about if you turn that colour!” he exclaimed, moving to stand in front of her and shield her from the view of as many people as possible.

“Then you ought not say such things!” she objected, fanning herself with renewed vigour.

“It needed saying,” he replied doggedly. “I can’t get near you without wanting to put my hands on you, and… and that dress doesn’t help. Damn me, Boadicea, I was right, you know. You look like a queen tonight. I’ve never seen anything so splendid in all my days.”

The blush couldn’t get any worse, thank heavens, though the words warmed her from head to toe. She dared a glance up at him, feeling ridiculously shy and pleased at his approval.

“Boadicea?” she repeated, bewildered.

“My warrior queen.”

He even said it with a straight face.

“Truly?”

His expression softened, a look in his eyes that made her heart thump hard in her chest, for all she could not believe in it. “Every man here is watching you, love, don’t you know that? But they’re only observers, for you belong to me. Do you understand?”

Selina looked up at him, not understanding at all. She could not have heard him correctly.

“Everyone is looking at you,” she amended, for that was blatantly obvious. “They want to know who you are, and no, I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

He opened his mouth to speak but a polite cough from beside her had her turning to see Mr Parry had arrived to claim his dance.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, wishing poor Mr Parry to the devil as he led her away.