Harriet didn’t know about dazzle, but she could find a way to use the Stewart ball to turn the tables a bit, could she not?
Would Leeds ask her to dance? To take a stroll in the garden beneath the stars?
Stop it, Harriet.That’s not the focus here!
The spot between Harriet’s shoulder blades flared with a hundred tingles that raced up to the nape of her neck. Her brows furrowed. She only ever felt the sensation whenthatman’s eyes were on her.
Her husband.
Harriet’s frown deepened.
The next moment, a footman appeared at the door. “The Marquess of Leeds is here, my lady.”
Harriet’s eyes widened.
Leeds was here?
Her shocked gaze sprung to Leonora, whose eyes also seemed to say,your husband is here?
Leeds suddenly loomed behind the footman, giving everyone a start. His eyes settled on Harriet, and she saw his features visibly relax. Had he been worried she had run away?
“Lady Leonora, Lady Selena,” he greeted. “My apologies for interrupting your tea.”
Leonora waved his apology aside. “Would you care to join us, my lord?”
He gave a stiff nod and strode over to take a seat next to Harriet, who glanced at him with a small frown. The moment he settled in beside her, the familiar scent of tobacco and leather assailed her senses.
Lawd, why did the man have to smell so good? Could he not have smelled like goats and farm animals? And why did he search her out? She was about to ask when his low voice filled the room.
“I wanted to take you for a drive through Hyde Park in the phaeton,” he glanced toward the window, and the darkening clouds gathering there, “but the weather is turning quicker than I hoped.”
He wanted to take her for a drive?
Why did that sound so familiar? Ah yes. The day he came calling with a special license. Was this another excuse or was he in earnest? Harriet stared at him. How to make sense of him? He looked stiff, uncomfortable, and a shade of red coated his jawline that disappeared beneath his cravat. Yet here he was, apparently in earnest about staying at her side.
Harriet felt her heart thawing.
Good or bad?
Harriet couldn’t tell.
*
What the hellis wrong with to me?
Will couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so frantic in his life. He sighed and tossed a brandy down this throat. He had arrived home and had been promptly informed his wife had gone out to call on friends.
To be fair, this was nounordinary thing. Women gallivanted about town all the time. And of course, Harriet could visit friends and go shopping as much as she pleased. However, the moment the butler informed him that she had left, ice cold shards pierced his chest. He’d been roughly tossed back to the moment he’d stepped into her house and discovered she’d taken flight.
His calm had evaporated a breath of air, and he exploded into action. He would not feel at ease until he found his wife—which he did. Using an extremely thin pretext, though one he had planned to fulfill if the weather hadn’t turned.
And much to his astonishment, she had neither scolded him nor questioned him. She had accepted his arrival with ease.
Will took another swallow of his drink.
What did that even mean?
“Looking to drink away your woes?” Calstone dropped into a chair across from him.
