Page 93 of The Marquess Wins a Wife
Drat. He wasright, blast him. And this would be her last opportunity for some time—in just a few days Georgie would be home from Eton, and then they would be retiring from London for Hatfield to spend Christmas. There was not another ball betwixt now and then to which they had been invited. Her voice emerged as a whisper, muted, hesitant, and upon which he seemed to hang, waiting expectantly. “I want—I want to sneak away to the terrace.”
Luke stilled at her side, as if she had stunned him beyond comprehension. And when at last he recovered the ability to form words, the delight in his voice washed over her. “Why, Lizzie. Are you suggesting anassignation?”
“Well—that is—I wouldn’t go so far as to call it anassignation—”
“Iwould,” he said with a chuckle. “And you can’t take it back now—I’m agreeing. Meet me on the terrace in five minutes. And if anyone asks, you should say you’re going for the ladies’ retiring room.” And before she could manage even the slightest protest, he’d gone—slipped off through the crowd as effortlessly as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. Which she supposed he might’ve.
Time crawled by, drawing seconds out into hours. At long last the dance drew to a close, and the dancers swept off of the floor to find their next partners, or else the refreshment table or the retiring room. She would not be missed in the sudden influx of people jostling about, she was certain. Luckily, she had been meant to dance the next set with Luke, and so she would not have to avoid anyone searching for her.
She was something less of a spectacle without Luke at her side, she thought. The weight of gazes had relieved itself, because it was not thatshewas remarkable—it was Luke’s attentiontoher that had captivated theTon. And so, when at last the next set was about to begin, she used the polite chaos of partners assembling to slip from the room, proceeding down the corridor through which Luke had made his exit some minutes ago.
The hall was deserted and quiet, and though she passed a servant or two lingering there, the ladies’ retiring room was also in this direction, and so her presence was not worthy of particular note. The faint sound of her slippers on the marble floor was drowned out by the noise emanating from the ballroom. Voices within the retiring room faded to muted whispers as she passed, and no one within had noticed her creep by.
There—a door nestled into the wall, next to a wall of mullioned windows, through which she could see the shadows of bare tree limbs against the backdrop of the cloudy night sky. The door had been left unlocked, and she slipped quietly out into the night, the brisk winter air eliciting a chill. Probably she should have given a thought to the weather before she had requested a rendezvous on the terrace.
The low murmur of voices startled her, coming from somewhere in the darkness off to her left, around the corner presumably to avoid being sighted through the wall of windows. Luke’s voice—and a woman’s.
“But you don’tmeanthat.” Lizzie recognized the sickly sweetness of the voice, faintly pleading—Lady Glendale. She’d seized her opportunity, it seemed, the moment Luke had slipped from the ballroom. “You came straight for the terrace. I thought—”
“I am awaiting my wife.” To his credit, Luke’s voice was kind, imbued with only the tiniest amount of impatience. “She’ll be along any moment now.”
A scoff of patent incredulity. “You, and—and thatmouse? It beggars belief. It’s the mystery of the Season why you married her; the whole of theTonwas perplexed.” Lady Glendale’s voice was saturated with astonishment. “Of course, she does seem rather…domestic.” A throaty chuckle told Lizzie thatdomesticwas somehow meant to be an oblique insult. “Send her back to whatever country village in which you were unfortunate enough to find her, darling, and we can resume our little arrangement.”
Luke sighed, and Lizzie could just imagine that little furrow that had the tendency to dip between his brows appearing. “If theTonhas been perplexed, then it is populated with fools. I love my wife. I have no intention of being unfaithful to her.”
A warm glow sparked in Lizzie’s chest, emanating outward, bringing a silly little smile to her face. He couldn’t possiblyknowshe was listening, and still he’d just—he’d justsaidit. Like an incontrovertible fact. And while she had not doubted his claim that those letters he’d so often received had been both unsolicited and unwelcome, well—now sheknewit for the truth.
“Youloveher?You?” Bewilderment dripped from Lady Glendale’s voice. “A woman without two shillings to rub together for a dowry, and a passel of hangers-on with her?Childrenclinging to her skirts?”
“I love them, too. No doubt they’ll cause me no end of trouble—but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.” The barely-stifled chuckle had been meant more for himself than for Lady Glendale, Lizzie thought. “I don’t expect you to understand, Lady Glendale—
“Youusedto call me Theresa.” The simpering pout evident in the words was meant to be flirtatious, Lizzie assumed.
“I used to do many things which no longer interest me.” Exasperation now, Luke’s patience swiftly eroding. “I amhappy, and that is something I have not been in a very long time. I don’t intend to place it in jeopardy. If you will kindly remove your hand from my person—”
Outrage skittered along Lizzie’s nerves. It was just two quick, decisive steps around the corner, and out onto the secluded terrace overlooking the garden. Lady Glendale had backed Luke up against the balustrade, her right hand flat upon his chest even as he recoiled as far as he was able, his hands braced upon the rail behind him.
Luke spotted her first, the distaste upon his face washing away into stark relief. “Lizzie. Thank God,” he said, almost instinctually—and then he seemed to recollect Lady Glendale’s hand upon him, and his precarious, compromising position, and his horror to have been discovered thusly was a palpable thing. He unbalanced himself to stretch out one hand toward Lizzie, his voice imploring. “This isn’t remotely what it looks like. I promise you.”
“Oh? It looks as if Lady Glendale is accosting you quite against your will,” Lizzie said, her brows lifting.
Luke blew out a breath, all the worry and tightness easing from his face as he relaxed substantially. “God, yes. It’sexactlywhat it looks like, then.” The tiniest hint of a smile pulled at his lips, like a secret message passed between them.
Lizzie turned her attention toward Lady Glendale. “Lady Glendale, I should hate to be forced to inform our hostess that one of her guests has become unruly,” she said, clasping her hands before her, letting the sweetly-issued threat hang in the crisp air.
With a noise that sounded suspiciously similar to a muffled sob, Lady Glendale shrank away from Luke, turning her head to the side to swipe at her eyes. Belatedly, Lizzie realized that jealousy might have had less to do with Lady Glendale’s spiteful behavior than had infatuation—the woman gave a delicate sniffle, and in the dim light her eyes glistened with tears.
“You won’t hold him,” Lady Glendale cast out caustically, her voice raw and aching. “IfIcould not, you haven’t a prayer.” She said it with a flippant gesture of her elegant fingers, conveying with just that small movement how much less attractive she considered Lizzie to be in comparison to herself.
While she was aware that there had been an insult meant in the words, instead they only made Lizzie feel sad for Lady Glendale—that she should define herself so entirely by her appearance that she could not conceive of any circumstance in which Lizzie would be preferable to herself. But there was no need to repay slight with slight, and so she ignored the jibe and reached for Luke’s hand, which remained outstretched to her, setting hers within it.
Lady Glendale made a scathing sound deep in her throat, her beautiful face jerking away when Luke settled Lizzie against his side, as if she could not bear the sight of them together.
“I hope you find what you are looking for, Lady Glendale,” Luke said, much more kindly than Lizzie had expected. “But it isn’t me.”
“I supposeyouthink you already have,” Lady Glendale snapped, her voice tart with offense, shrill and vindictive. Her hands fisted in the folds of her skirts, wrinkling the delicate fabric, and her blue eyes blazed with anger. Her chin tilted up with the challenge she had issued, but her lower lip quivered with the force of her tempestuous emotions.
“I know it,” Luke said, and the warmth of his voice banished the chill in the air. “But you’re mistaken—happily,shefoundme.”
