Nicola Cornick - Lady Allerton's Wager

Marcus grinned and sat down next to her. ‘I will do as you ask on the understanding that you will not run away! What has all that ridiculous rigmarole been about this evening—dodging out of rooms, hiding away, avoiding even looking in my direction—?’

‘When I did look in your direction I thought you most preoccupied!’ Beth said tartly, before she could stop herself. ‘I am surprised that you noticed me at all!’

Marcus laughed. ‘I collect that you are referring to me stepping aside with a lady just now? That is my elder sister, Lady Grace Walters. She found the heat too overpowering in the ballroom and needed some fresh air.’

Beth looked away, feeling foolish. ‘I am sure that I do not care—’

‘Well, you do, or you would not have quizzed me about it!’ Marcus sat back on the window seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. ‘And you still have not answered my question, Lady Allerton. What was all that play-acting for?’

Beth flushed. ‘I thought it best to avoid you,’ she said candidly, trying to look him in the eye. ‘There has been so much speculation about our…’ She hesitated, trying to think of the right word to describe their relationship.

‘Our friendship?’ Marcus supplied helpfully.

‘Friendship. Yes, thank you. So much speculation about our friendship, my lord, that I thought it best to subdue it by—’

‘By creeping about like an actor in a bad play? You have caused so much speculation tonight by your strategies for avoiding me that I am amazed you are not aware of it!’

‘Well, if it comes to that, you have hardly suppressed the gossip by cornering me in this alcove!’ Beth said, firing up. ‘It seems to me that you positively enjoy stirring up scandal, my lord!’

Marcus shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I confess that I seldom regard it. As you should not, my lady! Why should the tabbies concern you? I am minded to kiss you here and now and see what the scandalmongers make of that!’

Beth recoiled slightly. ‘Do not jest, my lord!’

‘Why should I be jesting? You did not object to kissing me before!’

Beth blushed scarlet. ‘My lord! Kindly lower your voice—’

‘Come and speak with me in private, then. I want to talk to you about your offer for Fairhaven. It is time that we settled the matter.’

Beth gave him a very direct look. ‘I do not believe you, sir! This is just a trick! In fact, I do not trust you! At all!’

‘Why not?’ Marcus grinned. ‘Because the last time we were private together we shared more than just a conversation—’

Beth waved her hands about in mute appeal. ‘I believe you must be inebriated to speak thus, my lord—’

Marcus captured both her hands in one of his. ‘Not in the slightest! But if you will not speak with me, come and dance with me instead!’

He had already pulled her to her feet and was steering her through the crowded room with one hand resting lightly in the small of her back. Beth was sharply conscious of his tall figure close beside her, so close that her skirt brushed against his thigh as they walked. She tried to move away a little but found that the press of people forced them together. She could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin muslin of her dress, and suddenly she felt hot and vulnerable. It was no state in which to begin a dance, and when Beth heard the waltz striking up she almost turned tail and fled.

‘No need to look so terrified, sweetheart,’ Marcus murmured in her ear. His voice was warm and persuasive. ‘I promise to behave!’

A strange shiver went down Beth’s spine. She did not dare look at him. She reluctantly moved into his arms and felt only slightly relieved when Marcus held her at an irreproachable distance from his own body and made no attempt to draw her closer.

They started to circle the floor in time to the lilting rhythm of the music. The faces of the guests spun past them, curious, avid, amused, sharp, and spiteful…It seemed to Beth that the music was whirling faster and faster and that the flickering candlelight washed over them like a kaleidoscope of black and white. Marcus’s face was in shadow, his expression inscrutable, almost distant. Yet despite his apparent coolness Beth could feel a current of heat running between them, intense and strong. She shivered again, convulsively.

Beth had intended to keep a decorous distance between them and to avoid the intimacy of conversation during the waltz, but some compulsion made her glance up into Marcus’s face as they completed their second circuit of the floor. His gaze met hers for a split second and now it was dark and heavy with a passion he made no attempt to conceal. Beth caught her breath on a little gasp and almost lost her footing. Immediately Marcus’s arms tightened about her, pulling her into sudden and shocking contact with his body. His cheek brushed hers, hard against the softness of her skin, causing a feeling of helpless, wanton warmth to flood through her. Beth shuddered in his arms, unable to prevent her body betraying her with its trembling. She saw Marcus’s lips curve into a smile, felt his own body harden with arousal against hers and thought that she might well faint with shock and sheer, sensual delight, there in the Duchess of Calthorpe’s ballroom in front of one hundred and fifty people. It was terrifying but also strangely exhilarating all at the same time, and she was thoroughly confused. She did not risk looking at Marcus again.

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