Page 24 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke

Thea accepted it gratefully and set herself to attend to his conversation, which, considering that he was an attractive and intelligent man with an easy manner, was proving quite difficult.

Something was distracting her, niggling at the back of her mind, and she could not quite put her finger on it.

She talked and smiled and laughed and then, when the music changed with a flourish to announce the next dance, she realised that she must have been showing an unwise degree of enthusiasm.

The Earl was smiling into her eyes with some warmth and somehow his manner, when he held out his hand and escorted her onto the floor, was proprietorial.

Now what have I done? Thea smiled brightly as he took her into hold for the waltz. And a waltz, of all things.

There was no escaping the intimacy of this dance as there was with any of the others, with their frequent changes of partner, side-steps and promenades.

But why am I worrying? He is a very eligible gentleman and I like him. Why should I not encourage him?

As she thought it, Thea caught sight of Hal on the other side of the ballroom. He was not dancing; instead, he was standing watching. Watching her.

Surely not. Why should he?

Marcus swept her around a corner in an advanced move that had her forgetting Hal and everything else in an effort to remember her steps and keep pace with a very good, and apparently very adventurous, partner.

A very attractive partner, and one who appeared to be finding her interesting too. She would be careful, Thea promised herself. Not let herself be carried away and give too much encouragement tonight. Tomorrow she would see what she could find out about the Earl of Porchester.

She ran through a mental list of her closest friends. Who knew all the gossip but were loyal enough not to add her interest in a man to the scandal broth?

Gloria, Clara, Paulina—

The music reached a crescendo, stopped, and Marcus swept her to a halt, kept hold for just a fraction too long and then stepped back, bowing.

Thea curtseyed. ‘My goodness, that was stimulating!’ She flipped open her fan as they walked off the floor.

‘Are you engaged for the next dance or would you care to sit it out?’

‘I would like to sit, I believe,’ Thea said with a laugh. ‘It is clear I have not danced at a ball for several months. I had not thought myself so enfeebled as to be glad of a rest this early in the evening.’

‘That was a very energetic waltz, I must admit,’ he said as they took seats almost halfway along the wall between the two conservatory doors. ‘I should have been more moderate, but it is such a pleasure to find myself with a partner who can really dance.’

‘It takes two to make a good partnership,’ Thea said and then could have bitten her tongue when she saw the warmth in his gaze. He had read far more into that simple statement than she had intended.

I need more time. To what? To get to know him? To recover my trust in men? Or to recover from Hal?

She had turned her head to compose herself and so she saw Hal go through the door into the conservatory, alone.

It was a retreat, she thought, sensing something from the blankness of his expression and the set of his shoulders.

He was not enjoying this business of being the most eligible, the most pursued, man in the Marriage Mart, of having to make a choice of a duchess when surrounded by eager young ladies and predatory mothers.

You had a perfectly suitable bride, if only you had treated her properly , she thought, looking away and facing Marcus again as the orchestra struck up to signal the next dance.

Over his shoulder she saw Helena Linton. She was moving, not towards the dance floor with a partner, but alone and through the other conservatory door. Behind her, her mother watched, a little smile on her lips.

There was something furtive about the way Helena had moved, something secretive about that little smile.

‘Excuse me.’ Thea stood up abruptly and, of course, Marcus rose too. ‘I must just…er…’

As she’d hoped, he appeared to assume she had a sudden urgent need to find the ladies’ retiring room.

‘I’ll be back in a moment, but please don’t feel you have to wait for me.’ She hurried off, then glanced back. Tactfully, Marcus had resumed his seat, crossed his legs and was looking in the opposite direction.

Thea pushed open the conservatory door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. Immediately she was enveloped in steamy air, redolent of warm earth, leaf mould and green growing things.

The space was deserted so far as she could see, which, admittedly, was not far. Lady Hampton had clearly spared no expense on this and, from the heating system to the number and variety of plants, it was lavish.

Thea threaded her way down a path, around a clump of palms and past a statue of a partly clad nymph admiring her reflection in a still pool of water.

Then she heard Hal’s voice.

‘Madam, I should leave—’

‘Oh, do not be so stuffy, Your Grace! You see, I know who you are. I am Helena Linton and I so wanted to meet you. My Papa, Lord Linton, is exceedingly interested in the Congress and I know you were there. It must have been fascinating. Do tell me all about it.’

‘Certainly, Lady Helena, but not in here,’ Hal said firmly.

Idiot man! Stop being polite—just walk away. Walk out now, this is a trap.

Thea hurried around the next corner in the twisting path and found them.

Hal must have been sitting on a bench underneath a large flowering plant of some kind and had risen when Lady Helena found him.

He was trapped now, with a wall of foliage at his back and sides and, short of barging his way past her, or crashing through the planting, there was no way out.

Lady Helena took a step forward, gave a faint shriek and threw herself at Hal, who, of course, caught her. ‘Oh! I tripped!’

Now what am I supposed to do?

Hal had reflexively closed his arms around the woman clinging to him and it looked exceedingly compromising.

‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Thea said loudly. ‘What a relief to find someone. Now I am safe. If that horrible man has followed me… Oh, Lady Helena, I do apologise for interrupting your conversation, but if I could just remain with you for a few minutes, he is sure to go away. Duke, I did not recognise you for a moment with that palm frond in your face.’

Hal, who was admirably fast at taking his cue, swung around, deposited Lady Helena on the bench and strode to Thea’s side. ‘Lady Thea, has some scoundrel been making a nuisance of himself? Tell me who it was and I will—’

‘Helena, dear.’ Lady Linton’s voice came from just the other side of the palms and Thea realised she must have entered quietly and come some way into the conservatory before calling out. ‘Where have you got to, dear?’

She rounded the corner and stopped dead. Thea managed to keep a straight face, despite the older woman’s expression. Chagrin, anger and disappointment fought to escape from behind a rigidly smiling mask.

‘Lady Linton. Goodness, I am so pleased to see you. I had to take refuge in here because Mr… Perhaps I had best not name him as I see the Duke is ready to call him out—anyway, he was making himself most objectionable and so I ran in here and then I found Lady Helena, which was such a relief, and then the Duke who had come to her aid because she had tripped…’

Thea prattled on, although it was merely background noise to the wordless drama in front of her.

Hal edged closer to her. Helena, left alone on the bench, and a safe distance from him, looked ready to burst into tears of sheer temper and Lady Linton had the appearance of a kettle about to boil over.

‘Perhaps you could escort me out, Duke?’ Thea said, managing to put a faint quaver into her voice. She put her hand on his arm and he laid his over hers.

‘Of course. I will take you to your Mama. What a shocking thing to happen. I do wish you would tell me the name of the swine who was bothering you.’

As soon as the Linton ladies had vanished from view Thea freed her hand, pointed silently to the far door and hurried towards the one she had entered by.

Lord Porchester was where she had left him, patiently waiting. He rose as soon as he saw her.

‘I do apologise,’ she said, sitting down again. ‘A lace snapped,’ she added in a whisper, wondering if she could blush to order, then deciding that she was probably flushed enough from that encounter in the conservatory to counterfeit embarrassment.

‘Difficult,’ he said sympathetically and then glanced up to find Hal standing there. ‘Leamington. Good to see you back from Europe. I was sorry to hear about your father.’

‘And I to hear about yours, Porchester. May I have the next dance, Lady Thea?’ Hal was looking particularly stern.

What on earth was he looking so grim about? She had thought he might have been grateful for her actions just now.