Page 135 of The Viscount's Seduction
When a dance with one of Charley’s friends ended, she let him escort her over to where Lady Jane sat with the older ladies.
A dowager countess studied her through her glass. “You are overheated, my dear. Red as a beet.”
The lady next to her cackled. “And with that handsome Bakeley, who would not be?”
“It is the curse of fair skin as lovely as hers,” Lady Jane said.
“Are you thirsty, cousin?”
The hair on her neck rose. She fixed a smile on her face and turned. Sterling Hollister’s eyes gleamed.
“Parched, of course.”
He snapped his fingers and a footman approached carrying a tray with two glasses.
Ripples of fear ran up her spine. This footman she didn’t know. A bit older, a bit coarser than the usual strapping young men hired for that sort of work, he was not one of the regular staff. She hadn’t met all the runners and agents dressed up to play footmen though.
She thanked him and took the glass. “And what are we drinking, sir?”
“Wine. What sort, you should know, as this is your ball. Come, cuz, a toast.”
The old ladies tittered. She waved the glass under her nose and winked at them, stalling.
Any drink presented by Hollister could well be tainted.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a maid and a young footman hurrying her way. Shaldon’s people. “I think not. My husband forbade all toasts until after his. Will you excuse me, ladies?” She curtsied without spilling a drop of the wine.
Hollister’s hand clamped her arm and the wine did spill. The maid reached for her glass and signaled someone.
“We’ll get this cleaned up, my lady.”
Hollister still gripped her arm.
“Where did your footman get off to, cousin?” she asked. “He should be helping with this cleaning.”
He smiled a fake smile. “He was not my footman.”
“Of course not. But he was not one of ours either.” She smiled back, and watched his eyes tighten.
The young footman stepped closer.
“Clean this up and stop staring at the lady,” Hollister said. A country dance started up. “This is my dance, cousin.”
His hand still clutched her forearm. She lifted her elbow and set some distance between them, allowed herself a frantic look around the ballroom. The footman followed her as far as the dance line forming. Lady Jane had stood up and was wringing her hands.
Bakeley moved quickly in their direction, bowing and ignoring attempts at conversation. Hollister nudged her into the line and stood next to a man she’d been introduced to earlier, one of Charley’s friends. As the dance started, Bakeley tweaked the man’s elbow and pulled him out of the line. “I’ll fill in here, Penderbrook.” He bowed to the lady across from him.
Hollister scowled, and Sirena’s breath eased.
The dance began and they circled each other. “He’s very protective of you, I see.”
“He’s a man of honor.”
“Indeed. I was counting on it.”
They separated, went to the corners of their group and did not join up again until the promenade.
“Though you will find, he cannot be with you every moment.”
