“When will you provide me with a moment of peace?”
Ah yes. What had he said about that? Anything that was pleasing. “You shall have it soon.”
“I want three. Three moments of peace. Then I’ll hush.”
Demanding man. “Very well. You’ll have three.” Providing him these moments also provided her with them, after all.
“Then the first moment shall start now.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Selena stared at that outstretched arm. “Will leaving the ball truly bring you that much peace?”
“Yes. It means I can go home, truss my feet up on my desk, and get skunk drunk without a care in the world.”
“Thatis your idea of peace?”
He snatched her wrist and placed it on his arm, holding her hand in place with his palm. “Yes, because I wouldn’t have worry about you.”
“What about Theodosia? I cannot leave her.”
Warrick motioned to the entry. A furious Saville strode through the doors of the cardroom.
Selena gasped. “Why didn’t you say my brother arrived?”
The knave smirked. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“Beast.” Selena grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and gave him a tug. “On second thought, I would prefer a warm bed right about now. Let’s not delay your first moment of peace.”
“Are you sure?” Amusement danced in his voice. “We should greet your brother, no?”
“Do not make me whack you over the head with my reticule, Warrick. If I can sense his foul mood from this distance, you must as well. A wide berth is best.” Selena stilled for a moment as someone new entered the room, then she suddenly laughed. “Let me ask you something, Warrick. Are the rumors about you being chased by a woman brandishing a candelabra true?”
He cast her a suspicious look. “Why?”
She nodded toward the entry. “A woman with a candelabra just entered and she is heading our way.”
Warrick glanced and curse. “Damn it. Not again.”
She tugged at his sleeve again. “We had better hurry up, or you might also be on the receiving end of violence tonight.”
He grunted, allowing her to guide them in the opposite direction to another set of doors. “Why do women keep brandishing candelabras at me?”
Good question. “You have that kind of face, I suppose.”
“That is absurd.”
Selena wasn’t so sure. She glanced at one of the three candelabras on a nearby table. She had the same urge at the moment.
*
Some things aman couldn’t explain.
Warrick clenched his fist to resist the urge to pat his face and trace his hairline across his forehead. Not only was he sheddinghair, but his hairline seemed to be receding an inch a week—an exaggeration perhaps, but still a worry.
He loved his hair.
He didn’t want to go bald.
And anyway, what the devil did Selena mean about him havingthatkind of face? What kind of face did a man have to have for a woman to brandish a candelabra at him?
