“The Countess of Bute and her daughter, Lady Louisa,” he intoned. “Miss Fiona MacGregor.”
Neither his voice nor his expression changed when he took Lorelei’s card, but she sensed the anticipation increase as a hush began to fall.
“Miss Lorelei Caldwell.”
The eyes of the women standing nearest her turned hard while the men with them gave her frank looks just short of lecherous. Lady Bute stopped on the steps leading down to the ballroom and gave the group a level look. Bless the woman for waiting for her. Lorelei lifted her chin and started down.
“Excuse me.” Lord Westwood brushed by the onlookers, bowed to Lady Bute, and ascended the steps toward Lorelei where he took her hand and brushed a kiss over her gloved knuckles. “My apologies for not meeting you at the door, Miss Caldwell, but I was detained by a guest.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
For a moment Lorelei could only stare at him. What was he doing? And then she caught Lady Bute’s barely perceptible nod and gave herself an inward shake. Whatever his intention, he was offering her an out. She put her hand on his forearm. “No apology necessary, my lord.”
For a moment, she could have heard a hairpin drop on the floor and then, like a rush of water spilling over a dam, the voices around them rose to a cacophony of sound. They made their way over to the punch bowl and he poured her a glass.
She looked up at him as she took it. “Did you not receive my letter?”
“I did.” His tone was mild and he didn’t seem disturbed. “And, while I appreciate your honesty, I was not about to let you be devoured by those wolves out there.”
How had he known she’d felt as though she were staring down a pack of wolves? Or, at least, trying to. “That was very kind of you.”
“Hmmm.”He steered her away from the table as several couples approached. “It was the least I could do.”
Lorelei looked at the potted palm tree next to her where he had stopped and smiled. “I seem to remember our introduction behind one of these.”
He smiled back. “They do seem to serve a useful purpose.” Then he sobered. “About my proposal—”
“Please.” Lorelei held up a hand. “Please do not ask.”
He tilted his head. “We actually would suit better than…some couples.”
Like Alasdair and Melissa. He didn’t say it, but she knew who he meant. How embarrassing that he knew she cared about Alasdair. “I suppose we would, since I consider us friends. But…” She hesitated, searching for words. “I…I have come to the conclusion that I do not wish to marry. Anyone,” she added.
One eyebrow lifted slightly, but he didn’t challenge her statement. “In that case, let me suggest something slightly different.”
She frowned. “You are not going to ask me to be your mistress, are you?”
His eyes widened. “No, of course not.”
Her cheeks heated. “Forgive me. I should not have assumed such a thing.”
“You are forgiven. However, you have also made a point.” When she gave him a puzzled look, he continued. “I saw the way those men by the stairs were ogling you. Unfortunately, unless I offer you my protection—at least until the next scandal arises—you will be receiving more of those looks and, quite possibly, offers that are not honorable.”
“But…” She had a childish urge to stamp her foot, but managed not to. “We did nothing wrong.”
“Perception, my dear. What those folks saw were two couples, one in an embrace and the other with my hand on your arm and your sleeve torn. It is easy enough to draw the wrong conclusions.” He paused. “Especially since Mr. MacGregor is now betrothed to Melissa…LadyMelissa. Thetonwill watch to see if I do the right thing as well.”
“You already did. Just now.”
He nodded. “That will help, but it will also increase speculation. As I said, until the next scandal erupts, you will be the topic of conversation.”
She knew that was only too true. “So what do you suggest?”
He smiled. “That we act like we are a couple. We will not declare a betrothal, but perhaps a hint or two that it is the direction we are taking. That way, no man will dare approach you with unwanted attention.”
What he said made sense. It wasn’t as though she wanted any man’s attention—even honorably—any longer. Not if she couldn’t have Alasdair. Shecertainlydid not want to fend off unscrupulous, debased overtures, either. She’d seen the carnal looks given her before Randolph had come to her rescue.
She nodded. “All right. Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. I did, inadvertently, put you in a compromising position.”
