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“TheHuxleys arrived a few minutes ago, Siobhan.”

“Oh.” She darted a swift glance past his shoulders.

“Chandler informed me at once,” Fletcher said. “I haven’t seen them in the ballroom, and Huxley might choose to spend the night in the card room as is his preference, but I wanted to make you aware. Continue your ruse of a sprained ankle to dissuade LordHuxley from trying to get you alone should he venture here. I intend to find LadyHuxley promptly, so if you don’t see me for a time, do not become alarmed.”

Shegave a little nod, but he didn’t miss the flicker of unease flashing across her features.

“I hope you get the information you need soon, Fletcher. I’m not comfortable with this charade or with LordHuxley. He gives me the shivers.”

Aswell he ought.

“I know. Neither am I.” Fletcher shifted a few inches closer. “I’ve made sure you shan’t be alone. At least one of my men will be near you at all times. Just don’t leave the ballroom.”

“I shan’t.” She tightened her grip on his arm as she peered up at him. Genuine concern deepened her eyes to navy blue, and it was all he could do not to draw her into his arms and assure her that all would be well.

“Be careful, won’t you Fletcher? I’m not convinced that her ladyship isn’t capable of great deception. I do not trust her.”

Siobhancared about him.

Hisheart swelled near to bursting at what she’d unintentionally revealed.

“We are of the same mind there.” Fletcher rotated them toward the dancers. “Do you want to return to where you were sitting? It seems Mrs. Partridge has left.”

Thedame seldom stayed past eleven.

Siobhanshook her head. “No, that bench just there is fine.”

Shepointed to a tufted gold and royal blue bench between two more potted plants.

Afterseeing her settled, Fletcher braced his hands on his hips. “Would you like anything before I go? Lemonade? Ratafia?”

A kiss?

Hercomfort, safety, and happiness had become paramount to him these past days. It wasn’t wise, of course, but this feeling prompting Fletcher—almost against his will and logic—to pursue and care for Siobhan was unlike anything he—a practiced rake—had ever experienced.

Evenhe recognized the rarity and need to treasure whatever this thing was blossoming between them. It was almost as disturbing as the threat to his establishment but in an exhilarating, anticipatory way rather than dread and apprehension. Self-derision tried to skew his mouth upward, but fearing Siobhan would misinterpret, he kept his face neutral.

“No. I am fine. Oh.” She looked beyond him, her expressive eyes telling him who was there before she spoke the words. “LadyHuxley approaches.”

“Remember what I said, Siobhan.”

“I shall.”

Fletcherpivoted and crossed to meet her ladyship. He didn’t want her near Siobhan, not that he believed she’d recognize the refined young woman as the ragamuffin to which she’d given a note.

Hecould scarcely see the resemblance any longer.

“My lady. It is wonderful to see you.” He bent into a toady’s bow. “I missed your company.”

Alwaysone to love attention, ViscountessHuxley preened at his fawning.

Fletcherswore she’d dampened her crimson gown, leaving little to the imagination. Rubies and diamonds glittered at her throat and ears, complimented by dual bracelets at her wrists. A velvet, fringed reticule also hung from her wrist.

“Dance with me?” He extended his elbow.

LadyHuxley wasn’t of a mind to cooperate.

“Mr. Westbrook,” she murmured in greeting as she continued past Fletcher, straight toward Siobhan.