only such loving offerings were not so insulting. ‘I have formal clothing,’ he managed through gritted teeth. ‘Where is this ball tonight, may I ask?’
‘Lord Ashworth’s,’ Nicholas responded. ‘Do you remember him?’
Ashworth’s. Why did that irony not amuse him?
‘I remember him.’
That evening as Leo and Nicholas stepped up to the doorway of the Ashworth ballroom, waiting to be announced, Leo immediately scanned the crowd, looking for Mariel.
Nicholas whispered to the Ashworth butler, who then announced, ‘The Duke of Manning and Mr Leo Fitzmanning.’
The buzz of conversation ceased for a moment and all eyes turned their way. Leo supposed the silence was not merely the deference due a duke, but the shock at seeing the duke’s bastard brother at his side.
Ashworth, whose girth had thickened since his youth, immediately stepped forwards from where he’d been standing to receive guests. ‘Your Grace, how delightful you were able to come.’
A pretty young woman who’d been standing next to Ashworth also approached Nicholas. ‘I do hope the duchess is well, your Grace.’
‘Very well, Lady Ashworth,’ Nicholas replied. ‘Simply not up to the rigours of a ball.’
Ashworth had married someone else, obviously.
Nicholas turned as if to present Leo, but Ashworth had already seized his hand. ‘Leo! How delighted I am to see you!’ The man pumped his arm enthusiastically. ‘It has been an age and you have been abroad!’
Before Leo could form a response, Ashworth put an arm around his shoulder and brought him over to his wife. ‘Pamela! Here is my dear friend!’ It was kind of Ashworth to characterise him as such. ‘May I present to you Leo Fitzmanning.’
Leo bowed. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Ashworth.’
This woman, who might have been Mariel had events transpired as Leo thought they would, was a pretty doll-like creature who appeared as soft and affable as Ashworth himself.
‘Mr Fitzmanning. How nice you could come.’ Her words seemed as genuine as her husband’s and in her expression there was no hint of censure for attending without an invitation.
At that moment other guests were announced and Leo left his host and hostess to their greeting tasks. Nicholas had been commandeered by some gentlemen now surrounding him, so Leo felt free to search for Mariel.
He moved through the crush of guests, nodding to those people who acknowledged him, noticing those who avoided looking his way. Though no one dared risk offending his brother by giving Leo the cut direct, he was aware of whispers about him in his wake.
The room was ablaze with candles and decorated with huge jardinières of flowers. Richly upholstered sofas and chairs were set against the walls and grouped for conversation. It had been a long time since he’d wandered through a Mayfair ballroom. Nothing had changed.
Except him.
In his travels he’d wandered through the worst parts of cities, the poorest parts, and often found people living with more dignity than some of these glittering guests, so quick to judge and disdain.
He heard a squeal. A rush of pink silk caught the corner of his eye.
His sister Charlotte advanced on him. ‘Leo! You are here! I could not believe my eyes.’ She seized his arm and dragged him with her. ‘Come say hello to Drew. Justine and Brenner are here, too. Isn’t it lovely?’
He had to admit it felt gratifying to be greeted with even more enthusiasm than Ashworth had shown. He received a brotherly embrace from Charlotte’s husband, Drew, whom he’d known practically their whole lives, and answered Drew’s many questions regarding his health, when he’d arrived, where he’d travelled from, why they had not seen him sooner.
Charlotte interrupted. ‘Oh! Here is someone else you know, Leo. You must say hello.’ She tugged him away from her husband.
And brought him face to face with Mariel.
Her dress was a deep-rose silk and a dark blue sash was tied at her waist. Matching blue ribbons adorned her hair, which was swept atop her head with curls framing her face. She was so lovely she seemed unreal.
She was obviously not delighted to see him, but even less delighted was the man at her side.
Lord Kellford.
Leo bowed. ‘Miss Covendale.’
‘Miss Covendale?’ Charlotte cried. ‘Since when do you call Mariel Miss Covendale?’
He shot Charlotte what he hoped was a dampening look. ‘Since I am at a formal ball.’ He turned back to Kellford and gave him a curt nod. ‘Kellford.’
Kellford responded in kind. ‘Fitzmanning.’
Mariel’s eyes pleaded with him, as if she feared he would blurt out their long-held secrets. Did she think he would retaliate for her having spurned him? In any event, he was fairly certain she would not willingly speak to him privately, even if he could manage it.
Making matters worse, Mariel’s father approached and on a flimsy pretext hustled her away. Leo turned back to Drew, asking him how his sister and nephew fared and about their estate, and pretending the brief exchange with Mariel meant nothing to him. A few moments later, Justine and Brenner appeared and were delighted to see him. He was soon enveloped by family, who remained near him the entire night, an armour he did not need. He could stand on his own anywhere, especially in the superficial gaiety of a Mayfair ballroom.
Kellford rarely left Mariel’s side; Leo was beginning to despair of ever catching her alone.
Watching her altered something inside him, Leo had to admit. It would take some effort to turn his emotions to stone again. Still, he would never allow himself to be vulnerable to her smiles and promises. He must question, though, why he cared so much to discover why she must marry Kellford. And why he felt determined to prevent it.
He no longer believed he was merely playing the Good Samaritan.
Finally he spied her saying something to Kellford. She managed to walk away and leave the ballroom alone. Leo made an excuse to his family and followed her, taking care not to look obvious. He guessed she was bound for the ladies’ retiring room, otherwise why would Kellford have let her go?
Catching a glimpse of her entering the room as another lady left, Leo retreated to a discreet corner where no one would notice him.
It seemed a great deal of time passed before she emerged again. Had she delayed on purpose to enjoy being free of her constant escort?
Leo quickly stepped from the shadows and seized her arm, pulling her out of sight of prying eyes.
‘Leo! Let me go,’ she whispered, trying to twist away.
He released her, but blocked her way back to the ballroom. ‘Give me a moment.’
Her eyes darted. ‘Someone will see us.’
‘A
