Lady Allerton's Wager. Nicola Cornick
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disappointment, Beth tiptoed back into the ballroom and saw that Marcus was now dancing with Eleanor. She made her way back to Lady Fanshawe’s corner of the room, only to find that her chaperon had disappeared.
Beth sat down, feeling a little self-conscious. She could see Kit, who was dancing with a plump debutante in a pink gown, but was looking over her shoulder all the time at Eleanor Trevithick. So much for his denials of an interest there! Beth smiled to herself. It seemed that she and her cousin were both caught in the same trap.
The crush in the ballroom was lessening now as some of the guests moved on to other engagements, and without the camouflage of the huge crowd Beth felt strangely vulnerable. She watched as the dance ended and saw Marcus look around and fix on her with an almost uncanny accuracy. In a candlelit room of a hundred and fifty people it seemed unreasonable that he was able to pick her out so quickly, but she did not feel she had time to stop and think about the implications. She started to edge towards the doors that led out on to the terrace, then paused, thinking that it would probably not be a good idea to wander out into the dark, especially on a cold autumn night. If Marcus decided to follow her they would end up playing hide-and-seek in the gardens and who could say where that would end. Glancing over her shoulder, Beth saw that he was getting closer to her, moving with a purposeful intent that was most disconcerting. She skittered along the edge of the dance floor, almost tripping over in her attempts to put some more distance between them. What she really needed now was someone to ask her to dance. Someone, anyone…
‘Would you care to dance, Lady Allerton?’
Beth turned sharply, her grateful acceptance withering on her lips as she looked up into the smiling face of Justin Trevithick. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. She was certain that Justin had seen her trying to avoid Marcus, but she was also aware that she could not refuse to dance with him without seeming dreadfully rude.
‘Oh, Mr Trevithick! I…yes…thank you, sir…’
Beth had met Justin several times in the previous ten days and had taken to him immediately, liking his sense of humour and easygoing manner. Just now, however, she was wishing him at the bottom of the sea. Dancing with Marcus’s cousin was getting too close to Marcus for comfort. She looked round and saw that Marcus was now speaking to a fashionable matron in striped red and white silk. He looked engrossed and suddenly Beth began to feel rather silly. Perhaps Marcus had never intended to approach her at all and all her diversions had served no purpose other than to make her look foolish. Probably she was flattering herself by imagining that he had ever shown any real interest in her.
Justin was waiting, a look of speculative amusement in his eyes. Beth hastily wiped all expression from her face and gave him her hand. She was pleased that she managed to keep up a tolerably bright conversation throughout the polonaise, only faltering slightly when she observed Marcus and the stripily clad matron disappearing through the door together. That was that, then. Evidently Marcus had found company more to his taste and had retired to enjoy it in privacy. Beth felt even more out of countenance at the unedifying jealousy that swept through her.
At the end of the dance, Justin guided her off the floor and into the refreshment room.
‘May I fetch you a glass of lemonade, ma’am?’ he suggested. ‘It may be a tame sort of beverage but is just the thing in a hot climate like this! If you take a seat in this alcove I will undertake to be back directly.’
Beth sank gratefully onto the window seat. It was fresher here with a pleasant draught of air that cooled her heated face. She rested her head against the stone window casing and closed her eyes. The noise of the ball swirled around her but she took no notice.
‘Your lemonade, Lady Allerton.’
Beth jumped so much that she almost banged her head against the stone. The voice was not Justin Trevithick’s, but the deeper tones of his cousin the Earl. Sure enough, Marcus was standing before her, a glass of lemonade in one hand, watching her with the same quizzically amused expression that he had been wearing all evening. Beth felt at a disadvantage and tried to get to her feet, but she found that Marcus was standing too close to her and that any movement would bring her into physical contact with him. This did not seem a very good idea, so she leant back instead and took the lemonade from him with an assumption of ease.
‘Thank you very much. How do you do, Lord Trevithick?’
Marcus gave her his devastating smile. ‘I am all the better now that I have finally caught up with you, Lady Allerton! I thought that I would never achieve it!’
‘I was expecting your cousin’s company—’ Beth began.
‘And did not want to have to tolerate mine instead? I fear I persuaded him to exchange places with me.’ Marcus shrugged lightly. ‘Now that I finally have you to myself, Lady Allerton, I would be obliged if you would keep still for at least a minute! I would like to speak with you!’
Beth shifted guiltily on the window seat. There was little chance of her escaping anywhere since Marcus was now leaning against the alcove embrasure and comprehensively blocking her retreat.
‘In that case you had better sit down,’ she said coolly, ‘and cease looming over me in that threatening manner!’
Marcus grinned and sat down next to her. ‘I will do as you ask on the understanding that you will not run away! What has all that ridiculous rigmarole been about this evening—dodging out of rooms, hiding away, avoiding even looking in my direction—?’
‘When I did look in your direction I thought you most preoccupied!’ Beth said tartly, before she could stop herself. ‘I am surprised that you noticed me at all!’
Marcus laughed. ‘I collect that you are referring to me stepping aside with a lady just now? That is my elder sister, Lady Grace Walters. She found the heat too overpowering in the ballroom and needed some fresh air.’
Beth looked away, feeling foolish. ‘I am sure that I do not care—’
‘Well, you do, or you would not have quizzed me about it!’ Marcus sat back on the window seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. ‘And you still have not answered my question, Lady Allerton. What was all that play-acting for?’
Beth flushed. ‘I thought it best to avoid you,’ she said candidly, trying to look him in the eye. ‘There has been so much speculation about our…’ She hesitated, trying to think of the right word to describe their relationship.
‘Our friendship?’ Marcus supplied helpfully.
‘Friendship. Yes, thank you. So much speculation about our friendship, my lord, that I thought it best to subdue it by—’
‘By creeping about like an actor in a bad play? You have caused so much speculation tonight by your strategies for avoiding me that I am amazed you are not aware of it!’
‘Well, if it comes to that, you have hardly suppressed the gossip by cornering me in this alcove!’ Beth said, firing up. ‘It seems to me that you positively enjoy stirring up scandal, my lord!’
Marcus shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I confess that I seldom regard it. As you should not, my lady! Why should the tabbies concern you? I am minded to kiss you here and now and see what the scandalmongers make of that!’
Beth recoiled slightly. ‘Do not jest, my lord!’
‘Why should I be jesting? You did not object to kissing me before!’
Beth blushed scarlet. ‘My lord! Kindly lower your voice—’
‘Come and speak with me in private, then. I want to talk to you about your offer for Fairhaven. It is time that we settled the matter.’
Beth gave him a very direct look. ‘I do not believe you, sir! This is just a trick! In fact, I do not trust you! At all!’
‘Why not?’ Marcus grinned. ‘Because the last time we were private together we shared more than just a conversation—’
Beth waved her hands about in mute appeal. ‘I believe you must