How had he not heard the murmurings accompanying their slow stroll through the room?
“There are very few whose opinions matter to me.” Offering her a rare smile, he lifted a glass and clinked the rim against hers. “I’ve learned to ignore everything else.”
She sipped her drink, studying him over the rim of her cup. “You must teach me that skill.”
He inclined his head but didn’t speak, which Eveline assumed meant he consented to her request.
Another stream of whispers—punctuated by the muffled thud of a cane—flowed toward them, and the Duke of Warwick emerged from the throng. When the Duke of Mansfield strode forward to greet him, a hand prevented Eveline from accompanying him. Admonishment on her tongue, she twisted around and froze, her words dying.
“We have unfinished business,” Miss Drummond said, yanking Eveline closer.
“Our business is concluded.” Eveline pulled against Miss Drummond’s grip. “I’ll never submit to your demands.”
“I suspected you might refuse me.” A vicious smile stretched Miss Drummond’s lips. “Humphrey was pleased to learn of your location; he’ll be arriving shortly to claim you.”
Eveline reacted without thinking. Flipping her free arm forward, she flung her half-full cup of punch into Miss Drummond’s face.
A horrific screech echoed through the ballroom, drowning out the music and drawing the attention of every person in the room. Smacking the glass from Eveline’s hand, Miss Drummond danced backward and crashed into the refreshment table, releasing a second, louder howl.
As if suddenly aware of the attention upon them, she shoved her dripping hair out of her face, then brushed her hands over her gown and rolled back her shoulders, adopting a regal air.
She strode forward, sticking her finger into Eveline’s face, and snarled, “You’ll regret this disrespectful action.”
“I’ve suffered at your hand long enough.” Eveline raised her chin. “If you, or your brother, threaten me again?—”
Miss Drummond laughed, throwing back her head. “What will you do, Miss Braddock? Murder us?”
It didn’t sound like a half-bad idea.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX
“Why would my fiancée kill you?” Levi asked, wrapping his arms around Miss Braddock’s tense body.
Miss Drummond flinched at his words, providing the exact reaction he hoped for when he made the announcement.
“Y-Your fiancée?” She paled, her green eyes widening as she backed away from him. “That’s not possible.”
Levi raised his eyebrows. “Please, enlighten me on why I’m mistaken regarding the woman to whom I’m engaged.”
Licking her lips, Miss Drummond glanced at Miss Braddock. “The lady already accepted my brother’s request.”
“According to both Mr. Braddock and my fiancée, she rejected his offer.” Levi’s eyes narrowed, anger flowing through him. “If Mr. Drummond would like to discuss the matter with me, I’d be happy to grant him an audience.”
Miss Drummond snapped her mouth shut, spun on her heel, and strode from the ballroom.
Leaning against his chest, Miss Braddock tipped her head, staring into his eyes. “Hello, Your Grace.”
“Hello.” He smiled.
“Did you and Ernest speak with Humphrey?”
“Mr. Drummond departed from the inn prior to our arrival.” Levi’s arms tightened around her. “According to the information we received, he should have arrived an hour ago.”
Trembling, she rotated in his embrace. “Do you think he’s here?”
“In Wiltshire or at the ball?” Levi asked, nodding to Roxburghe as he strolled past with Miss Webb.
