Page 36 of The Marquess Match (Love’s a Game #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

A shford Drake was not a man who got nervous. He had faced duels, scandal, and enough would-be marchionesses to fill a ballroom. He had bluffed his way through high-stakes card games, talked his way out of sticky situations, and charmed his way into women’s beds with nothing but a grin and a well-placed whisper.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was sweating through his cravat and felt like he might be violently ill.

Because tonight, he was going to ask Clare Handleton to marry him. Only this time, he intended to do it correctly, romantically, properly. This time would involve a ring and dropping to one knee, and the absolute certainty he wanted her to say yes.

The thought sent a rush of nerves straight through him, and he exhaled sharply, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket as he entered the grand ballroom. The chandeliers glittered overhead, and the air was thick with perfume and whispered gossip. He barely registered any of it.

His eyes found her instantly.

Clare.

She stood across the room, poised and radiant in that glowing ember gown he remembered from the house party, the one that made her golden hair shine like the last bit of light at sunset. The candlelight caught in her profile, making it glow, and when she turned slightly, he caught the sharp, intelligent gleam in her dark eyes—the same gleam that had always made him want to chase her, to challenge her, to keep her.

And now? Now, he was about to irreversibly change himself for her.

And he couldn’t wait. He was eager for it.

He strode toward her without hesitation, ignoring the murmurs that followed him as he cut through the crowd. By the time she noticed him, it was too late to escape.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, but she didn’t refuse. Instead, the edges of her lips curled up in a smile, and she placed her gloved hand in his.

“You’re about to cause a scene,” she told him in a singsong voice under her breath.

Asking her to dance at Meredith’s country house party was one thing. Asking her to dance in front of all of London’s finest was quite another. And they both knew it.

“That’s the idea,” he drawled, giving her a wicked grin.

He led her onto the dance floor, and as the music swelled, they moved together, perfectly in sync.

And just as he expected—just as he hoped —the room gasped.

A scandalous woman and a notorious rake dancing together in full view of the ton ? It was enough to make dowagers clutch their diamonds and debutantes widen their eyes in shock.

Clare shot him a glare. “You just ruined your reputation, Lord Trentham.”

Ash smirked. “I think my reputation was ruined a long time ago.”

She exhaled sharply and shook her head at him. “What are you doing?”

“Something reckless,” he admitted. “And I’m not done yet.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, causing even more gasps from the partygoers on the sidelines. “Meet me on the balcony in an hour.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Ash?—”

“One hour, Clare,” he murmured as the dance ended, brushing his lips over her knuckles as he let go of her hand. “Don’t make me wait.”

Before she could refuse, he turned and walked away.

An hour later, Ash stood on the Merriweathers’ balcony, the cool night air doing nothing to settle the riot inside him.

This was it.

He was about to change his life. The other night, he hadn’t truly asked her…not properly. Tonight, he intended to change that. To show her that he meant it. To make her believe they could have a life together. A real one. A happy one.

He had no idea how she would respond, but he had to try. Clare was the only woman who had ever made him want more, and if she told him no— God help him —he didn’t know what he’d do.

The door to the balcony opened, and he heard the rustle of skirts behind him. He turned, his heart pounding.

But it wasn’t Clare.

Instead, Lady Julia Fairbanks stepped forward, her expression coy yet somehow equally calculated.

“Lord Trentham,” she purred, stepping much too close. “What a coincidence , finding you out here alone.”

Ash resisted the urge to groan. “It’s not a coincidence, is it?”

She smiled prettily, ignoring his pointed tone. “A man like you shouldn’t be alone at a ball. Not when there are so many eager unmarried ladies about.”

Bloody hell .

He took a step back, but before he could send her on her way, the sound of approaching footsteps made Ash’s breath catch in his throat.

Someone was coming.

Ash knew what would happen next. What this looked like —him alone on a balcony with an unmarried female. The very trap he had spent years avoiding. And Lady Julia had clearly planned it. No doubt it was her mother or some equally loquacious dowager set to call the alarm.

But just as he was about to close his eyes and groan in abject misery, Clare stepped forward onto the balcony, her presence shattering the charged silence between him and Lady Julia.

Julia turned, her expression shifting from surprise to irritation. “Oh, how lovely,” she snapped. “The ever-watchful Lady Clare, skulking about where she doesn’t belong.”

Clare returned Julia’s sneer with a falsely sweet smile. “Oh, I belong wherever I choose, Lady Julia. It’s you who seems to be lost.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Run along, Clare. This doesn’t concern you.”

Clare tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “No? Because from where I’m standing, it looks rather like you’re trying to force a proposal.” She glanced at Ash, who was watching this unfold, torn between astonishment, relief, and amusement. “And if that’s the case, I think I’ll stay.”

Before Julia could deliver a retort, a voice rang out from the doorway.

“Julia?” Lady Fairbanks’s sharp tone cut through the air. Lady Merriweather stood beside her, eyes widening at the sight of the three of them.

Damn .

And in that moment, without hesitation, Clare stepped forward, grabbed Ash’s lapels, and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss.

His body went rigid for a fraction of a second, then his hands caught her waist, steadying her. The world faded, the scandalized gasps from the doorway barely registering.

When Clare finally pulled back, her breath was uneven, but her triumphant smile was firmly in place as she turned to Julia. “Well,” she whispered smoothly, “I do believe that settles it.”

It took Ash another moment to catch up, but when he did, the realization hit him like a blow.

Clare had just ruined herself—again—to save him from being forced to marry Julia.

There was no turning back now.