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“W ho are you searching for?”

The words were spoken by Jamie, who had stepped into Anthony’s path as they circumnavigated the ballroom.

“You’ve been prowling the perimeters since you arrived. This I know as Toby and I have been watching you. It is not your normal behavior. Usually, you are leaning against a wall drinking and scaring young ladies with your devil may care attitude.”

“Where is Toby?” Anthony asked instead of answering his friend’s question.

“That way, dancing with Miss Hyde.”

“Why?” Anthony asked. “Miss Hyde is the daughter of the innocuous Mr. Hyde, who if he gets a single sniff of interest from Toby, then will move heaven and earth to see him wed to his daughter.”

Jamie smiled. “I doubt anyone could make Toby do anything he had no wish to.”

“True, but Miss Hyde could lure him somewhere and compromise him,” Anthony said.

“Not all women are set on tricking us surely, Anthony? Even you are not that cynical.”

“Perhaps,” he said looking around him.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Aunt Louise has arrived in London, and sent word she and Nigel would attend this ball. My cousin is barely old enough to enter society, but she feels it’s important to acquaint him with what his future will hold.”

“Unless they murder you, I can’t see why you are avoiding them, other than the fact your aunt is a crashing bore.”

“I’m not avoiding them, but the note stated quite clearly Aunt Louise wants me to do my duty and teach her son how to become my heir, as clearly I will never have one.”

Jamie winced. “I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be without a title and work as a lawyer or doctor?”

“You hate the sight of blood. But I could see you in one of those wigs,” Anthony added. A memory of the one he’d seen Mr. Renee wearing the other night slipped into his head. Decidedly odd, that a man of his age would wear such a thing, and the beard.

“But we would not have the complications that come from—”

“Being ridiculously wealthy with everything we want?”

“Thank you for putting me in my place.”

“Any time.”

“So, your aunt has yet to arrive, and you think that if you keep moving she will not track you down?”

“It was a faint hope at best,” Anthony said.

“Have you danced with Miss Spencer yet?” Jamie asked.

“Why would I dance with her?”

“She’s on your aunts’ list, so the least you can do is appease them by showing interest.” Jamie was smirking now.

“Very amusing.”

“And there is that mutual love of archery you both share,” his friend continued.

“Shut up, Jamie.”

“I have danced with her, as has Toby,” Jamie added.

He knew that, because he’d seen them.

“I fear all is not well with Miss Spencer,” Jamie continued. “She barely spoke a word, and to me looked pale and nervous.”

“And you know her character well enough to know that’s not normal?” Anthony mocked his friend, while searching for Miss Spencer before he could stop himself. He located her sister in a gaggle of men and women, but not her.

“I am an excellent judge of character,” Jamie said. “Ask anyone.”

“Your sisters don’t count.”

“I asked Miss Spencer if she was well, and she assured me she was—”

“There you are then.”

“Cavendish danced with her before me, and I think it was he who upset her.”

Just the mention of that man’s name made him tense. He remembered the conversation about Miss Spencer they’d had while gambling last week.

“I met him in a gambling hell a few nights ago.”

“Cavendish?” Jamie asked.

Nodding, Anthony went on to explain. “Do you know a Frenchman called Mr. Renee?”

“I don’t believe so. Why?”

“He was gambling also, and then Cavendish joined us. He warned me to stay away from Miss Spencer. From what I gather, he has decided she will be his future wife. Once he’s broken her spirit, that is.”

“Dear God, the poor woman. Let’s just hope she doesn’t have to accept anything he offers. But then there was that rumor about her family’s circumstances, so perhaps she will,” Jamie added.

“You need to warn her away from him,” Anthony said.

“I thought you and she disliked each other?”

“We do, but I would not wish my worst enemy to endure what Cavendish will do to her. Plus, thwarting him—”

“Enough said. I will see what I can do.” Jamie walked away.

Miss Spencer was no match for someone as evil as Cavendish. He’d done the right thing in asking Jamie to warn her.

Feeling restless, Anthony left the ballroom and walked with no particular destination in mind. Reaching stairs, he descended.

“May I be of assistance?” The Bailey butler appeared.

“What’s through there?” Anthony pointed behind the man to where there were two large double doors.

“Lord Bailey’s exotic plants, Lord Hamilton.”

Without asking permission, Anthony opened the door and let himself in, closing them behind him.

Warm, humid air settled around him like a heavy blanket, as did the earthy scent. He headed down the first path. Discreet lamps cast shadows from the plants around the walls, and Anthony drew a deep breath at the blissful silence.

Pulling off his gloves, he plucked a leaf off a tree and crushed it. Raising it to his nose, he stood and inhaled the fresh scent.

Perhaps it was time to visit Harriet? His aunts were hounding him to wed someone. Plus, his aunt and cousin were in London, and then there was Miss Spencer whom he disliked and yet couldn’t stop thinking about. The city was suddenly filling up with people he wished to avoid.

And you’re Lord Hamilton and care nothing for anyone or anything.

“Botheration.”

The word came from behind a row of plants. Moving quietly forward, he looked through the leaves.

“What to do. What to do.”

Miss Spencer was there, pacing up and down the next path. She’d not heard him approach as she was muttering to herself.

Before he could retreat, she said, “Blast! That man is a horrid, pernicious toad.”

Anthony wondered for a moment if she was talking about him. He continued to watch as she paced away from him and back again. Then she stopped, and her shoulders lowered, and shook. Was she weeping? Anthony took a step back, his boot crunching on a leaf, and her head lifted, looking his way.

“Who is there?” she demanded and then sniffed loudly.

“It is I, Lord Hamilton.”

“Go away,” she said.

“Are you all right, Miss Spencer?” he said through the leaves.

“Yes.”

Anthony kept his distance from people for a reason, to keep himself safe.

“Go away, my lord. Please,” she added. “I-I wish to be alone.”

He should do what she said. It was the sensible course of action. He found himself walking down the row, turning at the bottom, and then making his way to where Miss Spencer now stood.

Her eyes were dry, so she wasn’t crying but Jamie was right, something was very wrong with her. She was pale and clutching a handkerchief in both hands.

“Is there any way I can assist you?”

“No.”

“Allow me to take you back to your sister then.”

Anthony could feel her desperation, even from a few feet away. He’d never seen her anything but bored or cutting, which were two things he excelled at. What he did not excel at was dealing with a woman who was not herself.

“I believe Lord Bailey has twenty species of ferns growing in here,” Anthony said when nothing else came to mind.

He could feel her eyes on him.

“Apparently he spends up to four hours a day tending them, according to his wife, who is a friend of my aunts.”

“I met her,” Miss Spencer said quietly. “She is… ah, very nice.”

He snorted at her hesitation. Bailey’s wife was a woman who could talk from sunrise to sunset.

She fell silent.

“Miss Spencer, can I help you in any way?” he asked again.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help me when we dislike each other?”

“At least look at me when you are arguing,” he said.

She did then, lifting her head slowly until their eyes met. The turmoil in the depths spoke of her utter devastation.

“Perhaps I can see you are not yourself and have ceased hostilities briefly, until you are once again prickly and antagonistic.”

That didn’t produce a smile either.

“It is hardly my fault I am that when there are so many fools up there.” She pointed above her head. “Besides, with your reputation I fear you are not one to talk, my lord.”

“There is that. However, it’s my hope I am not one of those fools?”

“If I say you are, then will you leave me alone?”

“Come, let me escort you back, Miss Spencer.”

She sighed, and it was a sad sound.

“Would you like me to collect your father or sister?”

She shook her head before speaking. “We cannot be seen in here together, my lord. Alone like this would be disastrous, and my family can ill afford that kind of scandal considering…” Her words fell away.

“Considering?”

“Considering you are who you are, and I am who I am. I’m sure you understand.”

Of course he did. He could get away with his behavior due to his title and the fact he was a man.

“Why are you down here alone and not upstairs watching your sister?”

“She is fine and surrounded by people.” Miss Spencer then waved a hand about dismissing his words.

A heavy, tense silence settled between them as Anthony weighed the words he would speak next.

“Is your current predicament, which you will not share with me, anything to do with Lord Cavendish?”

Her shoulders jerked, and she stumbled back a step. Anthony grabbed her arm as she tripped on the edging of the garden behind her. He pulled her upright and closer to his body. Looking into her eyes, he felt it again, that rush of expectation he always got when she was close.

“Why would you ask me that?” she whispered.

“Because you danced with him before Lord Jamieson, and he said you appeared upset.”

She pulled her arm from his grip and turned away. Delicate shoulders rising and falling as she looked, but he was sure didn’t see the fat, shiny-leafed plant directly before her.

His eyes traveled up the rigid line of her spine and then the pale skin above the line of her dress. Anthony felt the urge to lean in and place his lips there. He stepped back, out of range. Her hair was piled high, with several soft curls trailing down her spine.

She bent her head slightly, and his eyes followed the elegant curve of her neck, and stopped.

Surely not? Leaning in, he studied the two dark dots. Did more than one person have marks like that on their neck? Because the alternative was not something he could contemplate.

“I must return to my sister, my lord. Good evening.”

She walked away and he let her, because he knew that Miss Evangeline Spencer was capable of anything, even dressing as a man and leaving the house to gamble in a place where, if anyone found out, she would be ruined and forced to leave London.