Page 23 of Almost A Scoundrel
“The Pope couldn’t reform that man.”
“That’s because the Pope isn’t a woman. Truthfully, there are worse men to marry.”
“From exquisitely hewn to marriageable? Did my mother send you?”
Nash laughed. “The countess doesn’t agree with your decision to spend your days in the company of books and cats?”
“No, she supports me. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t also been planning her daughter’s wedding since birth.”
Nash nodded. “No mother wants her children to grow old alone.”
A wry smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “But even mothers have dreams they must give up on.”
“Amen, my lady.”
Phaedra glanced again toward the fortune hunters. “I believe I shall take a turn on the terrace, Nash. It’s getting quite stifling in here.”
“I shall escort you.”
“No, you block those three wolves while I slip away.”
Phaedra retreated to a nearby terrace before Nash could stop her. Impatience stirred in her breast. She ought to have known better than to trust Deerhurst. He should have been here by now. How disappointing that he, too, when stripped bare of cloth and jewel, was all snuff and no substance.
She would fend for herself, then.
Phaedra tried to calculate how many minutes she’d have to herself before the wolves gave chase, but if ever an incalculable equation existed, this was it.
At the doors of the terrace, she did a quick scan of her surroundings to make sure no one had followed and spotted a familiar face in the crowd.
Her heart did a little flip.
He was here.
And then he was not.
A cravat suddenly blocked her view of Deerhurst. Phaedra frowned.
“My lady, will you honor me with this next dance?” Lord Cromby asked.
Phaedra cursed her luck.
“Unfortunately, my lord, my ankle is not up to the task.”
“That is unfortunate, indeed.” He advanced on her, and Phaedra balked at the ugly glint that sparked in his gaze. She retreated one step, two, three, and then gasped as cool air hit her skin. A quick sweep of her environment made her pulse leap.
He had backed her onto the terrace.
Drat it.
She should never have left Nash. She attempted to sidestep him, but he mirrored her move, refusing to let her pass.
“If you will excuse me, my lord.” She tried and failed again.
“Stay a moment, my lady.”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate, my lord. Please let me pass.”
His lips curled into a smile, and for a moment, panic set in. That was not a grin any woman wanted to be at the receiving end of. It made Phaedra’s skin crawl.
