“I know. George told me,” Philip confessed. “It is part of the reason why I came tonight. I hoped… I don’t know what I hoped. But when I saw you approach us, and then leave with Simon… I felt… You are an impossible woman, Anna.”
“And you are George’s friend.” She watched his eyes rove over the floor, her breaths coming more quickly now that he was near. “You want to help him by helping me. I understand. And you do so because you are…” There were many things he was. Too many to enumerate. “You are kind… and honorable… and…”
Anna froze. Philip’s hand had met hers on the balustrade. His fingers brushed over hers as though testing her receptiveness. She let him explore her hand before he seized her fingers gently in his, not removing them from where they were. She couldn’t move, worried that anything she did would scare him away.
She had never been touched like this by a man—had never dreamed Philip would touch her, even if she had teased him. Being held by him felt like floating. She tore her eyes from their joined hands and tried to read his expression, hoping she hadn’t misunderstood his intentions. His lips were parted slightly, his face boyish but tortured.
“Who did you meet on the night of the opera, Anna?”
His question caught her off-guard. What did the opera have to do with anything?
She flinched, and his hand slid away from hers.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied. “I-I saw no one.”
“You’re lying,” he whispered, finally meeting her gaze. “I know enough about you now to know that. Who was it?”
Anna could not believe what he was asking. Did he know that she had gone to see Alicia? Even if that was the case, it hardly seemed worthy of his concern now.
She opened her mouth to ask him what he was implying, only to be cut off by approaching footsteps.
* * *
“There you are, my dear.”
Philip turned brusquely as Lord Ashwicken emerged from the half-open doors behind them.
George had identified the middle-aged lord with Philip earlier that evening. He was tall—not as tall as Philip, but tall enough to intimidate a young woman like Anna—wearing a dark jacket and breeches that at first made him indiscernible in the dark. His eyes were alight with indignation as they settled on Philip.
“Your Grace,” he greeted. They had never met before tonight, so like Philip, someone must have pointed him out in the crowd. Philip wondered why. “Pray tell, what are you doing out here, alone with my betrothed?”
“You are getting ahead of yourself. From what I gather, she is not your betrothed yet,” Philip replied. He sensed Anna tense beside him and wished he hadn’t put her in this position by following her outside. “Be that as it may, we were merely talking”—he gestured to the terrace doors—“in full view of the rest of the ball. Satisfied, my lord?”
“My satisfaction is irrelevant. I saw Anna dancing with one of your acquaintances. Then, I saw you slip out after her, and I guessed what you intended to do immediately. One rake to reel her in and another to take advantage of her. Anna should not be out here with you and must return inside with me at once.”
If Ashwicken was surprised by Philip’s familiarity with Anna and her circumstances, he didn’t show it. He gestured for Anna to come like someone would beckon a dog over.
“Come now,” Ashwicken ordered, “before your father notices where you have gone. You have been misbehaving greatly tonight, but I am a tolerant fellow, and there are many things I will excuse. Cavorting with a known knave, however?—”
“A knave?” Anna interrupted, stepping past Philip. “He is nothing of the sort. And I will not follow you back inside. I wish to remain here.”
“Lady Anna, be careful,” Philip whispered.
He wanted to tell her to do Ashwicken’s bidding for the moment because being caught alone with him would be a fate worse than death for them both. There was still time to dissolve her betrothal through peaceful means.
“Yes, listen to your friend and do as you are told.” When Anna shook her head, Ashwicken dropped his open hand to his side and stepped toward her. “If you will not listen, you will be taken back by force.”
He swiped for her arm, grabbing her suddenly.
Philip’s anger flared at the sound of Anna’s pained gasp, and before he knew it, he had pushed the viscount away from her.
Ashwicken released Anna, steadying himself from the force of Philip’s attack. He looked up in outrage.
Philip stood his ground. He had misjudged Ashwicken. The viscount was just as bad as the rest of them behind his noble facade. What peaceful resolution could there be now?
“You will not touch her,” Philip said through gritted teeth. “No woman is yours to maltreat. At least now you have revealed yourself for the brute she feared you to be.” He cast a sideways glance at Anna to make sure she was safe, not wanting to take his eyes off Ashwicken for a second. Things could escalate quickly. “Go back inside, Anna.”
“She is going nowhere alone. Evidently, she cannot be trusted.” The viscount straightened his crumpled shirt, then balled his fists at his sides, sneering. “If you think I will be convinced to abandon a good deal by a childish tantrum—or by threats of violence—then you are wrong. My word, my honor, is my bond.”
