Before Blake could help himself, he blurted, “Such as?”
Her eyes sparkled. “You know, with those few syllables, you can cause widespread panic just by sighing dramatically. People shall laugh at your jokes, even when they’re not funny, and you have the power to makeanythinga trend. I suspect every man in attendance shall sport some stubble from tomorrow.”
Silly things.
But then, she meant for them to be silly, and Blake marveled at how this silliness actually worked, for a fragment of amusement eased the clench of his jaw.
“Ah, Crane! You made it!” a voice boomed.
The Marquess of Southby.
Blake inclined his head at the man, who joined them, his gaze resting on the man who accompanied their host, and whose gaze seemed to be fastened on Lady Rosilee. His gut clenched instead of his jaw. “Thank you for extending an invitation.”
Southby waved it away. “Oh, it’s no bother. Have you met the Earl of Stagbourne?”
“It’s a pleasure,” Blake said simply, wishing the man would disappear already.
“Likewise,” Stagbourne replied, inclining his head before glancing at Lady Rosilee.
“And who is this lovely creature?” Southby asked with a grin. “Did you secretly marry without anyone being the wiser?”
If he sighed dramatically right now, would he cause his host to panic? “Lady Rosilee, may I present Lord Southby and Lord Stagbourne.” He paused before adding, “Lady Rosilee Fairchild is my ward.”
She dipped a graceful curtsy as both men took turns kissing the back of her hand. Blake tried to keep the lines of his face from pulling up in a sneer. He wanted to swat them away, but he remained as still as a lamppost, all the muscles in his body contracting once more.
This was pure torture.
Were all introductions so painful?
“Would you do me the honor of the next dance?” the earl asked.
Blake clasped his hands at his back to keep from balling them into fists. He caught her fleeting glance at him before nodding at Stagbourne. “Ah, yes, of course.”
He steeled his expression, tracking Stagbourne leading her away. Damn it. His gut twisted with every step she took, her soft laughter carrying back to him like a bell tolling his doom.
What the devil could be so funny?
Stagbourne certainly didn’t look like a funny man.
Blake bit down the urge to storm over and yank her back.No,he told himself,this is fine. Completely fine.This is how it was meant to be.
But it wasn’t fine. It was maddening. He could practically feel the satisfaction radiating off Stagbourne from where he stood, as if the man had already claimed victory. His hands tightened behind his back, muscles in his forearms straining under the pressure.
“They make a striking couple.” Southby chirped from the side.
His arse they made one. “It’s too early to tell.”
A hand clapped his back. “I assure you, Stagbourne is an honorable man.”
I shall be the judge of that.
Blake suddenly regretted his “plan.” He should just storm Baston’s castle, retrieve the viscount, toss Baston in a crate, and send him away on a ship bound for China.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Blake glanced over, and all the blood left his face.
Chapter Ten
