“It is something you simply cannot help?”
“It may well be my weakness.” Langley gave her a shy, almost apologetic smile, and she wished to loathe him, but those feelings of hatred would not come. There was not an ounce of abhorrence for him within her, no matter how much she tried.
“Why are you here, my lord?” She would not use his name, either of them. The memory of calling him by his Christian name left her vulnerable.
“There are two things and then I will be gone.” He moved to the sofa, and sank down onto the seat. “Please know that the party you overheard, I had no recollection of organising that particular event. I was far more focused on…”
“Ruining me?”
“Oh, believe me, Miss Keating, if I had wanted you ruined that night, it would most definitely have occurred.” He spoke with such arrogance that Margot felt the very blood in her veins plunge lower and heat. It was like he had control over her sensations, knowing precisely what to do to spur every one of her desires.
“It was simply a way of showing off your prowess, then?”
“No. I wished you to know that on that night, after you departed, nothing occurred between myself and anyone else in my house.” There was such clear-eyed sincerity to his heated gaze that it twisted inside Margot, and she wondered whether he was telling her the truth. “I had no desire for another woman.”
Unable to keep holding his gaze, Margot left her position by the window and moved across to a seat. Pleased for the supportof the pillows. It was the armchair furthest from Langley, but she still felt the pull of the man.
“What was your second point?” Margot queried. She dared not ask any more details on that matter, although there was an urge within her to discover quite why he desired her. It was so tempting to discover if his want for her was as bone deep as hers was for him.
Langley leant forward, his eyes exploring her face before he spoke. “I was at one of my friends’ houses, or rather I should say his mistress’s abode.”
“Yes?”
“I saw another one of Ashmore’s clocks. It must have been one that was on the other part of the map.” Langley sounded excited, clearly pleased with himself for the discovery.
“Did you manage to steal it?”
“No.” A degree of annoyance entered his voice, but then he smiled his laconic easy grin, all charm once more that brightened his entire persona. “But Lady Norton is hosting a ball tonight, for all her nearest and dearest in theton. A mere one hundred and fifty guests.” He drew from the inner pocket of his suit a thick vellum invite, and offered it out across the space between them. “It would be dangerous to go,” he said as he watched Margot’s reaction. “It is entirely possible that Ashmore’s murderer knows about this location. He may even be at the ball on the lookout for the clock himself.”
Margot eyed the thick-cut invite before she nodded in agreement to attend, taking Langley up on his ill-advised offer of going to the ball. Of course, it was a desperate move on her part, but not for the reasons the earl thought.
CHAPTER 16
Having been to hundreds of London balls in his time, Langley was not entirely sure why this one was putting him on edge. But it was. Undoubtedly.
He had taken the precaution of bringing with him a weapon, a discreet pistol that was stowed in his jacket pocket, easy to use as it was loaded, so he could use it if called upon.
Even its reassuring weight was not as much comfort as he would have imagined. The decision to arrange both Adams, his footman, and his driver, Brewton, to be armed and to be stationed at strategic points in the mansion was an extra precaution too, but it still did not feel like enough. If only he had not been so cavalier with Verne earlier in the Season.
Arriving and taking in the magnificent Norton abode should have been reassuringly familiar—everything was beautifully attired and arranged. Candles lit the ballroom, and the wide glass windows had been flung open so that the opulent chamber remained fresh and with the pretty impression that nature was only a few steps away. Langley knew this place, he knew these people—they were his society, his milieu, and he knew what to do with them. But tonight, he could not find any peace. Idly, he wondered whether it was simply that he had not tupped awoman in a long time. Far too long. But practised seducer that he was, he knew he would not be satisfied with anyone but his Amazon.
This realisation for some might have been uncomfortable, but Langley had decided to accept it as a specific type of lust. He wanted her. He needed to know more of her body, to understand her better, to know with complete certainty how she would sigh as he slid into her, how her neck would arch and what her delicate breasts would feel like cupped in his much larger hands. In the past he’d had women he’d wanted, of course he had not bothered with growing a friendship with them first… that was the only difference here. Once he had had Margot, once he knew her, it would be easy to say goodbye. Any other idea he would not tolerate.
Precisely what was making him so anxious though was difficult to pinpoint, but he decided to attribute it to the search for the clock and fears of what would occur should Ashmore’s killer arrive.
Watching Margot dance in the arms of Sir Phineas was not providing any consolation. Margot and he had briefly talked, giving the impression of a casual greeting that was in fact the pair of them consulting on where the clock was located and who was best placed to go and retrieve it.
“Langley doesn’t mind, do you, darling?” Lady Georgianna Herbert’s voice was loud and yet her tone conveyed an intimacy of acquaintance, pulling Langley back to his immediate surroundings and away from staring at his Amazon. He pivoted with as much ease as he could manage to look down at his curvaceous former lover. Lady Herbert’s round blue eyes sparkled temptingly, and he knew he would normally make some joke and ease himself back into her good graces.
“Quite. I often find my Lady Herbert is right on a great many matters.”
“See.” There was a sharp pleasure to Lady Herbert’s voice and Langley leant closer, with all the impression of enjoyment in her company to whisper into her ear.
“What have I agreed to?”
“Merely that Lady Norton’s niece is quite the belle of the Season,” Lady Herbert said.
“Mhmmm.” Langley looked around the group of Lady Herbert’s followers, only recognising two out of the five of them. “But as you may be aware, I rarely care for the good opinion of theton, at least in matters of who is an eligible lady.”
