He’d thought—no, he’dimagined—she’d felt something for him that night, as he’d felt for her.
But it was clear she’d had no expectation of meeting up with him in London. He’d seen her face when she’d first noticed him in the crowd. Her shock was unmistakable. He’d been just as shocked to see her here and, what’s more, as the guest of honor they’d all been invited to meet.
And now he had her in his arms, but she was freezing him out. And still angry with him.
They were coming to the final movements of the dance. “We need to talk,” he told her in a low voice.
“No, we don’t.”
“I think you owe me the courtesy of an explanation.”
“I owe you nothing,” she responded, but he thought he saw a flash of guilt in her expression.
“Did it mean nothing to you, then? That night we spent together?” He hated the way it came out, sounding faintly needy when he’d intended to sound angry and accusing.
She shook her head. “Nothing at all.”
It was a lie, he was sure. And it sparked his anger.
She froze him out for a moment, then looked up at him. “What did you do with Rocinante?”
Ah, that was his Vita, more concerned with animals than people. Than him. But he was still furious with her. “Sent her to the knackers,” he said indifferently.
She gasped. “You didn’t!”
He said carelessly, “It was where she was headed when I found her.”
She bit her lip. “And Hamish?”
“Can you imagine a dog like that in an English gentleman’s home?” He achieved a scornful snort. “I had him drowned.”
She stared at him in horror. The last chords of the dance sounded, and omitting the usual curtsy at the end, she wrenched herself out of his arms, saying, “You are more than despicable!” She kicked him on the shin and swept from the dance floor, leaving him standing.
“I think it’s time you left, isn’t it, Foxton?” Lord Salcott appeared on one side of him, Lord Randall on the other, their expressions implacable. “I don’t know what you said to my young cousin, but I could see she was upset.”
“Yes, come along, there’s a good chap,” Randall said in a pleasant tone, but the look in his eyes was icy. He took Julian by the arm, seemingly companionable, but quietly insistent.
There was no point in trying to argue with them, Julian could see. Besides, a crowded party was no place for the discussion he needed to have with Vita—Zoë. Holding her in his arms for the period of one waltz was enough to show him his feelings for her were unchanged, though his thoughts remained angry and confused. He was sure she felt something for him—apart from her current misplaced fury—and until he knew what it was and the reason why she had stolen off into the night without so much as a goodbye, he wasn’t yet willing to let her go.
He bowed slightly. “Of course, gentlemen. Thank you for a very pleasant evening. I will call on Miss Benoît at a more convenient time.”
“You are welcome to try,” Lord Salcott said enigmatically. “Good evening.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You were a splendid success at the reception last night,” Izzy told Zoë.
“Yes, everyone I spoke to found you quite, quite charming,” Clarissa added.
“Mm.” Zoë nodded. She’d had very little sleep. He couldn’t have drowned Hamish, surely? And sent Rocinante to the knackers? He was a beast, of course, but surely not that much of one. Or was he?
Oh, why had he come to her party? And how had he come? Who had invited him?
The three sisters had gathered in the summerhouse for a very late breakfast and to discuss the events of the night before. Outside it was cold with a light, misty drizzle, but inside the summerhouse it was surprisingly warm, thanks to Matteo, who had provided each of them with a metal-lined foot warmer, into which hot coals had been shoveled. As well, he had laid out a delectable array of treats for them: a large pot of thick, delicious hot chocolate, along with slices of Christmas cake, mince tarts, sweet rolls,almond biscuits and gingernuts, which Clarissa had recently taken to craving.
“And I had so many comments about our identical dresses.” Izzy chuckled. “Some even said they thought we could pass for twins, apart from the fact that I’m a few years older and have given birth to two adorable children. You, however, still have the girlish slenderness I used to have.”
“Izzy! You’re still slender,” Clarissa objected.
