Page 3 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
‘I did.’ His lips would have lifted to a grin, but that hurt so his smile fell.
‘Do you think yourself in love?’ she whispered, her eyes studying his expression. ‘I have never seen you at a musical evening before.’
‘I do not think it, Iamin love. However, Mary… After her family had words with her, is not so sure.’
‘I wish you happy.’
‘Thank you. But you should be happy too. I have the money to smuggle you away from your husband now, Caro.’
‘I will never get away. He would find me.’
‘No. I will buy a property where he will not look.’
‘I cannot?—’
‘Caro. You must come into supper with me.’
They both turned, responding to the sharp, fierce, command. The Marquis of Kilbride approached to retrieve and control Caro.
She glanced back at Drew, fear in her eyes, as she nodded before turning away.
Drew sighed as she left him. For years he had not been able to help her, but now he would insist she ran away from her vicious bully of a husband.
Mary was standing among her usual knot of friends. It took her all of seconds to spot him, and her mouth dropped open a little as she did so, unable to hide her shock. She smiled.
He smiled too. It did not look as if he were an unwelcome shock.
She turned to him as he neared. He gently held up her hand, bowed over it and kissed her satin-covered knuckles, then tipped over her hand and kissed her wrist above her glove.
When he straightened, he said, ‘Good evening, wife.’
‘I did not expect you.’ She sounded stunned.
‘I did not intend coming, but I missed you, so I changed my mind.’
A blush flared on her pale cheeks but if his arrival had embarrassed her, she hid it well and turned to introduce him to her friends. He had watched her with these young people for two seasons. They were only a few years younger than him but they all seemed so naïve, it was as if he had a dozen years on them not four or five.
They stared at him as if he were an oddity. He forced himself to be polite, and all the while Mary’s fingers rested on his left forearm.
It felt as though her fingers clasped his heart.
When the introductions were complete, he turned to her. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then may I escort you to fetch some supper before the performance recommences?’
‘Thank you, yes.’
She excused herself from her dull friends and walked away with him.
Drew’s world flooded with a light only Mary could bring to it.
He helped her fill a plate, positioning himself so Mary could not see his friends clustered in a corner about poor Miss Smithfield and another young woman.
He led Mary to an empty table, but within minutes her cousin, Lady Eleanor, and her husband, Lord Harry Nettleton, joined them. Drew knew Lord Nettleton, though not well. Mary’s mother and her aunt, Lady Wiltshire, then also orientated in their direction. So, therefore, did Mary’s father and her uncle, Lord Wiltshire, the Duke of Arundel. The Duke gave Drew a measuring stare as he withdrew a chair for his wife.
When Pembroke saw Drew seated at the table, though, he turned to another table, taking his Duchess with him.
