Page 13 of Her Duke at Midnight
“I’m afraid so.”
“How torn?” Cecily bit her lip, though relief washed over her when she noted Fiona had become deeply engaged in a discussion with Lady Portia.
“Enough that I know the color of your petticoat.” He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a stifled chuckle. “I see we share a fondness for red.”
Flames licked up Cecily’s cheeks, and her heart beat so fast that she feared it would burst from her chest and plop on the drawing room floor. She suspected her cheeks were the same deep crimson as the petticoat she’d ordered from the modiste.
“I need to go upstairs and change.”
“You do,” he agreed. “If I shadow you, no one will see the rip.”
Cecily glanced over her shoulder. “They will see us walking closely and exiting the room together.Thatis anything but discreet.”
“Trust me, Lady Bissenden.”
* * *
She didn’t trust him. Adam wasn’t sure he’d ever met a lady who trusted him less.
The flash of a glare as she glanced at him over her shoulder was meant to indicate how little she liked his idea, and yet he found himself enjoying having her bright green gaze on him.
Which was precisely why a warning bell tolled in his head, urging him to walk away from her and not look back.
The best he could do for the lady was to leave her be. Actually, the gentlemanly thing to do would have been to seek out her watchful friend or have a servant accompany her back to her rooms to change her gown.
But despite everything he knew he should do, he found that he wanted to be the one to help her. He wanted her to look at him with something other than irritation in her emerald gaze.
“See that path there?” He pointed briefly enough that no one noticed the gesture. “If we move around the edge of the room and behind that cluster of potted palms, you can make your way out easily enough.”
“Together?” She sounded dubious, but Adam felt certain his plan could work.
“Yes, but subtly so. You walk, and I’ll walk behind you, and if we’re quick about it, few will notice.”
“Start now?”
“On three.”
She huffed in frustration and then whispered, “One, two, three.”
The plan fell apart almost immediately.
Bennett beelined for them, and Adam nearly tripped on the back of Lady Bissenden’s gown. But he shot Bennett a frown and a shake of his head that the man, thankfully, seemed to understand. In fact, he seemed to understand so well that he positioned himself in front of Lady Fiona, effectively blocking her view of their progress around the edge of the room.
“Don’t stop,” Adam told Lady Bissenden as she started to slow.
“You telling me not to makes me want to,” she said in a clipped, irritated tone over her shoulder.
They’d nearly made it to the palms. This plan would work.
“You have a streak of defiance in you, my lady.”
“It’s about time I do,” she murmured softly in reply.
“I say, Everton, I’m shocked to see you here.” Mr. Walter Wilcox, an American shipping magnate who’d ingratiated himself with the Derwents, bellowed as he approached.
Lady Bissenden turned, and Adam stayed her with the lightest, briefest touch of his hand against her hip.
“Just a few more steps,” he told her encouragingly.
