Page 48 of The Study of Seduction
Her breath stuttered out of her. She was a jumble of nerves, and given the heat in his eyes, she was horribly afraid he might try to kiss her again. She wanted it; she feared it. Most of all, she worried she might do something stupid in response . . . like shy from him and give herself away.
But just as he bent toward her, slowly, carefully, the door opened.
“Well, well,” Count Durand said in a hard voice. “If it isn’t the newly engaged couple.”
The cold rage that leapt in Edwin’s face gave her pause. Then he smoothed it from his expression and turned, taking her hand as he moved and pulling her next to him so that they formed a united front.
“What do you want, Durand?” he snapped.
The Frenchman ignored Edwin to address Clarissa. “I was sent by your mother to find you, Lady Clarissa.”
“My mother would never entrust that task to you,” Clarissa said, fighting the gorge rising in her throat.
“You think not? She likes me, you know.”
Before Clarissa could call that the lie she knew it was, Edwin moved ever so slightly in front of her. “Lady Margrave is friendly to everyone. But she’s not mad.”
“We’ll be coming along in a moment, sir,” Clarissa added. “Do go on and tell Mama so. If indeed she sent you to look for me.”
His lips formed a thin line. “I was charged with accompanying you. So I will wait until you’re done with his lordship.”
“The devil you will,” Edwin said. “You’ve already caused enough trouble for tonight by spilling our news prematurely.”
“Am I causing trouble, my lady?” the count asked Clarissa.
His studied drawl didn’t fool her. He looked on edge and thoroughly dangerous. She wouldn’t go off alone with him for all the world.
“You know that you are, sir. But as I said earlier, it hardly matters. You merely succeeded in moving up the announcement we would have made soon anyway.”
The count tightened his jaw. “Knightford hasn’t yet approved of the match.”
“He will. Edwin is perfectly eligible, and is Warren’s closest friend besides. In any case, I’m of age. Warren doesn’t have to approve our engagement. We merely wanted his blessing.”
With a cold glance at Edwin, the Frenchman scowled. “Does that mean you still intend to wait to wed until his return?”
“We haven’t decided,” Edwin said. “Not that it’s any of your concern.”
“I could make it my concern,” Count Durand said.
Her stomach churned.
“I’d like to see you try,” Edwin snarled, fury coming off him in waves.
Like a hound at a bear-baiting, the count was deliberately provoking Edwin. She half expected at any minute for Edwin to rip out Count Durand’s throat.
“Enough,” she said with a forced lightness in her tone, determined to calm both men. “This is silly—the two of you snapping at each other. Mama is waiting. We shall all three return to the box together, before we miss any more of the performance.” She tugged Edwin’s arm. “Come, my dear, let’s go.”
It was like trying to drag the baited bear from the arena, with his hackles raised and teeth bared, before he had the chance to devour his tormentor. For a moment she feared Edwin would do something rash, like fight the count then and there, fomenting gossip throughout society.
Then, to her vast relief, Edwin relaxed his stance. “Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you wish.”
But as the three of them returned to the box through the passageways, she knew she had only forestalled a coming battle. Because she feared that Count Durand meant to draw blood until Edwin flat-out murdered him.
Eleven
Durand left the box as soon as they returned to it, thank God, or Edwin would have thrown the blasted fellow out of it. Fortunately, they saw no sign of the count when they left the theater.
Edwin hoped the reprieve lasted a while, but he no longer knew what to think of the Frenchman. He’d never seen a man so determined to bedevil a woman. There had to be something else behind it than a mere desire to have Clarissa as his wife.
