doors. Then he looked over at Sarah. She stood motionless as if she’d gone into shock. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
He found himself half-wanting to shake her and half-wanting to take her into his arms, and erase the misery and shame from her face. The unexpected thought made him scowl. ‘What the devil were you doing out here with Blanton?’
‘I…I wasn’t out here with him. That is, I was here alone and he…he followed me.’
‘I don’t suppose it occurred to you that wandering around in dark gardens alone is not only improper, but highly dangerous? Unless, of course, you wish to encourage behaviour such as Blanton’s.’
That seemed to jolt her out of her trance. ‘I most certainly do not! And I was not wandering around—I…I was merely standing here.’ Her voice quivered and she suddenly looked utterly defeated. ‘I…I know it was quite improper to come here, but I…I wanted to escape for a few minutes and it was nice to be alone and I did not want to go in and suddenly he…he appeared…’
She looked away from him for a moment as if trying to collect herself. When she spoke, her voice was calm. ‘So, I suppose it was my fault. If you will excuse me, my lord, and thank you for…for rescuing me.’ She started to move past him, still clutching her bodice.
‘Wait.’
She glanced up at him, a question in her dark eyes.
He frowned. ‘How bad is the tear?’
‘Not very bad. A small rip in the lace, I think. Nothing that cannot be mended with a needle and thread.’
‘You cannot go into the ballroom with a rip in your bodice.’
‘I have little choice. At least everyone has gone into supper.’
‘We can only hope,’ he said drily. His glance fell to the small brooch she wore. ‘Your brooch. Can you use that to repair the tear?’
She looked down also. ‘Perhaps. I…I think so.’ She fumbled with the clasp, but her fingers were trembling and he realised that, despite her collected manner, she was very badly shaken.
‘I’ll do it.’ He stepped forward. She went very still as his fingers brushed her breast. His fingers suddenly seemed as clumsy as hers and he was finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. Her scent was soft and sweet and feminine and the fact she seemed to be trying very hard not to breathe was making his own breath come far too fast.
‘My lord, I…I think I should go in.’ Her voice was faint.
He scowled. ‘In a moment.’ He’d just about extricated the pin from the soft silky fabric of her dress when he heard a screech from behind them.
And then, ‘Oh, my! Oh, my goodness!’
He spun around, the brooch in his hand. Lady Henslowe stood behind them, a hand clasped to her breast. Even in the faint moonlight, he could see her eyes were wide with shock. And with her was Lord Henslowe, a murderous look on his normally placid face.
‘Damnation.’ He was beginning to think fate fully intended to make him pay for every one of his numerous sins.
Chapter Two
N ever, even if she lived to be a hundred and one, would Sarah forget the shocked expressions on the faces of Lord and Lady Henslowe. She closed her eyes and prayed she could vanish. Or die on the spot.
But she did not. She opened her eyes to find Lord Henslowe advancing on Huntington. He fixed him with an icy stare. ‘I trust this means there is to be a betrothal, my lord.’
‘Yes,’ Huntington said coolly.
‘No,’ Sarah replied at the same time.
‘But, my dear, you cannot allow such…such liberties and not marry him!’ Lady Henslowe exclaimed. ‘And, oh my! Your gown!’
Henslowe’s gaze swung to Sarah’s torn bodice. He stared and then glowered at Huntington. ‘So this is how you repay my hospitality! By attacking my guests! It is too late to forbid the marriage between my son and your sister but, damn you, you will not set foot in this house again!’ He advanced on Huntington as if he meant to thrash him.
Huntington seemed to be frozen to the spot. Sarah ran forward and caught Henslowe’s hand. ‘No! Stop it! He…he did nothing wrong! He is not responsible for this!’
Henslowe shook off her hand. ‘You are defending this rogue?’ he demanded. ‘The devil! Has he seduced you already?’
‘No, of course not,’ Sarah said.
‘But, my dear, how did your gown become torn? And why are you in the garden and with him?’ Lady Henslowe asked. Her gaze was fixed on Sarah’s bodice with horrid fascination.
‘I…I went to the garden for a few minutes…I wished to be alone and then…’
Huntington’s cool voice cut in. ‘This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation. Miss Chandler is shaking. I suggest, Lady Henslowe, that you take her in and see she has some brandy.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Lady Henslowe bustled to Sarah’s side. ‘My dear, such a shock…you must come with me.’
‘I don’t want brandy,’ Sarah said.
‘You will remain with me, Huntington,’ Henslowe said, ignoring Sarah. ‘No use thinking you’re going to run off until this affair is settled.’
‘I wouldn’t think of it,’ Huntington drawled. His arms were crossed and his eyes held the faintly amused indifference Sarah was so accustomed to.
Sarah felt wretched. ‘Please, you must listen. Lord Huntington did not do this. You see, I was…’
‘Go in, Miss Chandler.’ Huntington’s eyes held a warning which Sarah completely planned to ignore.
‘No! Not until I explain the matter.’
The indifference left Huntington’s face. If anything, he looked as if he wanted to strangle her. ‘There is, Miss Chandler, nothing to explain. Lady Henslowe will take you in.’
Lady Henslowe tugged on her arm. ‘Come, my dear. You cannot stand here with your gown in such repair! Oh, Sarah, how could you do this? Whatever will Monteville say?’
Sarah stared at her. ‘Oh, no! Not Grandfather! You cannot tell him about this. He…he will probably murder me!’
‘My dear child, I hope I have done nothing to put such fear in you.’
Lady Henslowe stiffened and made a little moaning sound. Sarah froze, her gaze going to the man who had silently appeared behind them. For the second time that night, she wished she might vanish from the face of the earth.
The Earl of Monteville’s cool, impersonal gaze travelled over the group for a moment. It was only when his gaze fell to Sarah’s bodice that it hardened. He looked at Huntington. ‘I trust there is an explanation for why my
