Page 16 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
The maid curtsied.
‘Please tell no one I have been upset,’ Mary added.
The woman, Tilly, nodded. ‘I shan’t say a word, miss.’
When she had gone, Mary did not bother to strip off her clothes or blow out the candles. She tumbled on to the bed and cried. Because she may not see him ever again… and because she was a ninny for even wanting to see him.
‘Idiot!’ she shouted into her pillow.
6
Pride in his self-discipline swelled in Drew’s chest as he strolled into the Wiltshires’ ballroom. He’d avoided Miss Marlow for two weeks. Now was the moment to return.
Lord Wiltshire, The Duke of Arundel, was one of her uncles. Her family would slacken their vigil here and he hoped it would be easier for her to find a moment to escape.
Looking down from the top of the entrance stairs, at one end of the Wiltshires’ ornate ballroom, he scanned the crowd, the ton, England’s elite, in all their shining glory.
If her aunt and uncle knew Drew’s intent, he would not have been sent an invitation, but he’d kept away from her in public since last year, so, to her family, he was simply another name on a list, and every society hostess desired a crush.
He saw her. She was stood close to the foot of the stairs.
‘Lord Andrew Framlington.’ The footman shouted his name, announcing his arrival.
She looked up.
Women always looked when he entered a room, he did not normally care, but this was her. He looked at her. Her eyes… Her expression… Anger. She had missed him. He smiled for her alone. It surprised him when she gave him a self-conscious smile in return.
He let her gaze go and smiled at the room in general to avoid her family noticing the exchange. If they whisked her away to the country to avoid him, his game would be off entirely for this year.
Drew wasted his first hour in the card room. This early in the evening she would be too much in demand to risk slipping away.
The supper bell rang and the music died, then guests surged into the room set aside for refreshments. Drew sauntered in at the back of the crowd, beside a gentleman acquaintance with whom he’d been playing cards; a friend he had picked out for the sole purpose of gaining entry into Miss Marlow’s family group.
If he was going to tempt her, he needed to throw her a little more bait. His companion was an old friend of Drew’s and Pembroke’s, from their days in Paris, during their dissipated grand tour. Days Pembroke preferred to forget. Like Pembroke, Roger Harris had turned prude, and therefore Harris was the perfect camouflage. He would be welcome even if Drew was not.
On cue, Roger called, ‘Pembroke!’
The family were sitting about several tables. Drew ought to be daunted, but daunted was not within him; what he felt was a swell of anticipation, exhilaration. This was a bold move. He was walking a thin line, willing Miss Marlow to notice him while wishing her relatives not to notice anything out of the ordinary.
His quarry sat at a table with her brother, amid some of her uncles and aunts.
‘Roger! I did not know you were in town.’ Pembroke rose and they joined him. ‘Is your wife with you?’
As Pembroke and Roger spoke, Drew looked past them and met Mary’s gaze. For an instant his heart forgot to beat as her pale blue eyes looked directly at him.
He guessed from her expression that she was wondering what to do. Perhaps wondering how she could speak to him.
‘Miriam is in her last month and not faring well…’ Harris babbled on about his family.
Drew nodded at Miss Marlow. A blush stained her pale skin pink.
He swallowed against a dry throat. ‘I shall leave you to talk,’ he said to Roger, then he walked away. His hand lifted, as if in parting. He hoped she was watching; it was a signal.
Drew helped himself to a couple of canapés but did not pick up a plate. He did not intend to spend the supper hour eating. He acknowledged a few acquaintances, avoided several ex-lovers then walked out of the room, glancing at Miss Marlow as he passed.
She was watching.Would she follow?
He strode on across the empty room, only looking back once. Her gaze followed him. He turned, took one step back, smiling and nodding, throwing her a calling card.This is your chance, Mary, darling.He faced away, and walked towards the French doors, deliberately keeping within her view.
