held Alice transfixed. The music came to a natural halt and in the gap there was the spread of the hushed murmur like a wave across the ballroom.
Venetia felt the shiver of foreboding ripple across her scalp and all the way down her spine. She did not want to look, but she was already turning, just as everyone else was.
Hawick was making his way through the crowd towards the door. The white of his shirt and cravat was splattered scarlet with blood and he was holding a large bloodied handkerchief to his nose.
Venetia’s eyes widened.
‘What on earth happened to him?’ Alice whispered.
Venetia gave no reply, even though she knew the answer very well. She watched Hawick like every other person in that ballroom.
‘Devlin?’ Alice murmured almost to herself. A number of others must have been having the same thought, for once Hawick disappeared through the door, all heads turned to find Devlin. But Devlin stood at the farthest side of the room from the gallery, by the French windows, looking as shocked as the rest of Fallingham’s guests.
Venetia took a deep breath and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing footman, even though inside she was still shaking and her mind was reeling from the shock. All she could think of was how close she had just come to ruin, and that the man who had saved her was the one man she had thought would not. To shoot a man, unarmed and with his leg not yet fully recovered from a hunting accident, as he sat at his own desk—it took a certain type of villain to do that. Across the ballroom chatting to Razeby she saw Linwood. His dark gaze met hers across the floor and held. It lasted for only the briefest of moments, then the dance progressed and the bodies of the dancers hid him from her. And by the time the dance progressed again he was gone.
Her heart was beating fit to burst, her blood rushing too fast. She lowered her gaze, composing herself, conscious that Miss Fox must maintain her cool, collected air. So she held her head high and nodded as if she were listening to Alice’s chatter. The music played on, sweet and loud and vibrant, but all that Venetia could hear was the echo of Linwood’s voice playing again in her mind. I am not going anywhere.
He had saved her. Again. The uneasiness stirred all the more in her breast and she wondered if what she had learned of Linwood so far would disquiet her brother as much as it did her.
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