He could do nothing about the list, but he could damn well make sure she did not suffer for it. He ought to warn her about the wagers, give her an even fairer chance, but Phaedra Sharp did not trust easily. He suspected she would break off their fake courtship, and if that happened, he had no reason to appear before her. Protecting her would become harder. And this confrontation with Cromby had taught him one thing: he’d have to keep a closer eye on Lady Phaedra.
“I’m sorry,” Deerhurst apologized. “Morewood held me up when I arrived. I should have found you sooner.”
She waved his apology aside. “These things happen. It’s not your fault.”
“Would you like to find a place to rest? Perhaps a glass of wine to temper this incident?”
“I’m truly fine.”
“Are you sure? Mayhap I should escort you home.”
She raised a brow. “You make it sound as though I escaped the toothy jaw of a ferocious beast.”
“Didn’t you?” Deerhurst smiled. “An impressive feat, if I may say so myself.”
“Well, I hadsomehelp.”
Deerhurst inclined his head. “Then laugh, dance, and forget about that beast. Don’t let him think for even a minute that his efforts affected your evening.”
She nodded. “Don’t fret. It shall take more than Cromby—or the pack of wolves circling about—to affect my mood.”
“The what?”
“All the gentlemen fighting for a moment in my presence.”
“Ah.” Deerhurst offered her his arm. “We cannot do anything about them, but we can dance. Shall we?”
She laughed and placed her hand on forearm. “I have been waiting for this moment all night.”
Deerhurst swept her up in not one, but two dances, and the audience took notice. His initial uneasiness settled. While he did not tolerate people prying into his life, and while after tonight, all eyes would be on them, a sense of calm enveloped him.
He would not let any harm come to this woman.
But dear Christ.
What he wouldn’t give to pluck the pins from her hair and have her locks cascade down her back like the night in his garden.
“What are you smiling about?”
Deerhurst blinked. He hadn’t realized that he had been.
“Your wolves are glaring at me,” Deerhurst said, because he couldn’t very well confess what he’d been thinking about.
“And you find that funny?”
“I find itentertaining. I have something they want.”
“How positively arrogant of you to assume.”
He chuckled, and they were separated for a few beats.
“I believe that is my fault,” Lady Phaedra said when they reunited.
“How is that?” Deerhurst asked.
“I’ve claimed a sore ankle all evening,” she admitted. “Now I’m here, dancing my second dance with you.” She grinned at him. “My ankle has recovered significantly.”
“No wonder.” Deerhurst leaned in close. “And that would make my perceived arrogance your fault as well.”
