Page 67 of Three Weeks with a Princess
He cast another stony glance around and nodded tersely. He took her by the elbow to steer her out of the line.
Barbara shot a hand out to stop them. “You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to, miss. We’ll find Sir Nathan if you want this gent to leave you alone.”
“Sir Nathan Prudhoe? He’s your escort?” Sinclair looked even more incredulous.
Lia thought it best to ignore his question. “Thank you, Barbara, but this gentleman is truly a friend. I’ll talk to him for a bit and then come look for you. Where shall I find you?”
Barbara eyed Sinclair with a dubious expression, but finally gave a shrug. “I’ll meet you in the corridor outside the ballroom. We’ll snaffle some champagne and victuals and wait for you on the benches.”
Lia nodded. “I’ll join you soon.”
“And make sure you treat miss with respect,” Barbara said, glaring at Sinclair. “Or you’ll have me to answer to. I promise you won’t like it.”
“If she wanted to be treated with respect, she wouldn’t have come to a blasted Cyprians’ ball,” Sinclair said.
He wrapped his hand around Lia’s elbow and began hauling her through the crowd. Because they were wading in the opposite direction of the flow, it was slow going and would have been slower still but for the fact that Sinclair was all but shoving people out of their way. Unfortunately, he was leaving a chorus of protests in their wake.
“Mr. Sinclair,” she finally said with asperity, “if you were trying to draw attention to us, you couldn’t do a better job.”
He muttered another curse but moderated his pace. “Forgive me, Miss K—”
“Smith.”
“Smith,” he ground out. “I didn’t mean to be quite so rough. You may put it down to the fact that I was stunned out of my senses by running into you at a function of this disreputable nature.”
“I was surprised to see you, too,” she said. And a little disappointed. Sinclair didn’t seem like the type to consort with the demi-monde. “Do you often frequent affairs like this?”
“I certainly don’t make a habit of it,” he said as they skirted the edge of the dance floor. “I was out for the evening with some friends and found myself here.”
“Just as I did,” she said, trying to brazen it out. “How funny.”
He gave her another incredulous look. “Yes. Hilarious.”
Sinclair quickly steered her to a large window alcove, where a column would give them a degree of privacy. He all but shoved her into the shadowed space, turning his back to the crowd to shield her.
“Now,Miss Smith, please explain why I shouldn’t haul you back to Sir Dominic’s house this instant?”
Chapter Fifteen
“Because you have no right to do so, for one thing,” Lia said, trying not to glower at Sinclair. She was exceedingly weary of well-intentioned males trying to run her life. “And I hardly think dragging me out of a ballroom under protest will achieve your desired end of shielding me from gossip. Just the opposite, don’t you think?”
When he started to argue, she pointedly looked past him to the long French windows that appeared to lead out to a terrace. “Unless, of course, you wish to throw me over your shoulder and spirit me away through the back garden,” she added. “I’m sure that wouldn’t look the slightest bit suspicious. And think of the fuss my friends would kick up when they discover I’m missing.”
Sinclair blew out a disgruntled breath. “I am tempted to haul you out through the back garden, believe me.”
“Go right ahead. But you’d better be ready to explain your actions, because I won’t go willingly. In fact, it’s entirely possible my mask will fall off, and then you’ll be stuck. If people see us in such a compromising situation, you might even be forced to declare your hand. Otherwise, you would risk being murdered by one of the men in my very overprotective family, who will no doubt hold you responsible for demolishing what’s left of my reputation.”
His mouth dropped open to give him a somewhat breathless look. Obviously, that thought hadn’t occurred to the poor man.
“I don’t think you want to do that, do you?” she asked gently. “Marry me, I mean.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, no. I mean, of course, any man would be honored to call you his wife, but that’s not . . . oh, bloody hell. You know what I mean,” he said with a wince.
“I do. There is another alternative, of course. Would you like me to become your mistress?”
His eyes popped wide with outrage. “Of course not! What kind of loose screw do you take me for? Of all the outrageous suggestions . . . to think I would take advantage of a gently bred lady such as yourself.”
Lia nodded. “Then I think we understand each other, sir. Please believe that I know exactly what I’m doing. My friends will see me safely home, so that should set your conscience at ease.”
