detested Benedick Rohan. He hadn’t meant a word of it, of course, he just wanted to throw her off balance, and he’d succeeded. If she had any choice at all, she would have kicked him in the shins and walked out of the party without a backward glance. But the memory of Aileen’s scarred face was enough to stop her. Who was she to complain about putting up with the manners of social ninnies when there were lives at stake?
“Lady Carstairs has a passionate nature,” Rohan said calmly as they circled around Merton. “She enjoys fighting.”
“Enjoys making up even more, I’ll warrant,” Merton said with a loose grin. “You’re a lucky man, Rohan.”
“Indeed,” he said, glancing down at her, and she stared up, momentarily disconcerted. His eyes were a dark, dark green, not black after all, and his dark eyelashes ringed them, framing them. It was no wonder he was reputed to be such a rake, she thought dizzily. Who could resist someone who could look at you with such vivid stillness, drawing you into their gaze? She could feel herself falling, falling…
And then the music stopped, and he was no longer holding her. His hand dropped from her waist and for a moment she felt dizzy, almost bereft. “You can dance after all,” he said in a low voice. “As long as you’re too angry to think about what you’re doing.”
“I wasn’t angry,” she said in a deliberately sweet voice. “Merely astonished at your good taste.”
He laughed at that, and several people turned to observe them. “You really are delicious, Lady Carstairs. Perhaps I’ll decide to seduce you in earnest, not just to shock you into dancing well.”
She did it before she even stopped to think, stomping on his foot beneath the curtain of her skirts, hard. He jumped back with a muffled curse, and she froze, unable to help herself, shocked at herself, wondering how he was going to retaliate.
But to her astonishment he laughed again, the sound rich and full. “You’ll pay for that,” he said softly, his amusement too evident for her to be worried.
She made a dismissive noise, moving away from him. Lady Elsmere was ensconced on a gilt settee on the edge of the room, and her duty was clear. She moved across the floor, ignoring Harry Merton as he tried to gain her attention, reaching her hostess’s side a moment later and taking the seat beside her, fanning herself vigorously with one hand. “I’m exhausted,” she said in faint tones. “Lord Rohan is such an energetic dancer I wonder he doesn’t trample everyone in his way.”
She made certain her voice carried to her companion, but Rohan simply gave her a seraphic smile, that promise of revenge still clear in his dark eyes.
“I hope he’s as energetic when he’s off his feet,” Lady Elsmere said with a smirk. “I do like a man with stamina.”
“Quite exhausting.” Melisande refused to think about Lady Elsmere’s meaning. “Indeed, there are occasions when I wish it were possible to…er…share the brunt of his attentions.”
Lady Elsmere raised her skimpy gray eyebrows. “Really, my dear? I had the impression you were a devoted crusader, part saint, part nun. And instead you exhibit this totally unexpected degenerate streak. I find it unexpectedly delightful.”
Melisande had been worried at the start of this speech, but by the end she was reassured. She glanced across the room. Rohan was deep in conversation with Lord Elsmere and two other men she couldn’t identify, and he must have felt her eyes on him. He raised his head and met her gaze for an infinitesimal moment, then turned back to concentrate on his quarry.
At least, she hoped he was his quarry and not his partner in crime. It was always possible that Rohan had simply been humoring her when she’d asked for his assistance. After all, if he were a member of the organization himself, wouldn’t he be likely to try to distract her from her mission? What better way than to pretend to help her.
She turned back to Lady Elsmere. “My personal interests have nothing to do with my social conscience, Lady Elsmere. And I must say Lord Rohan has introduced a whole new world of experience into my life, one I find immensely pleasurable.” Holy God, but the words burned in her throat, and she wished she could wash away the taste of them. On top of everything else she had rapidly come to the conclusion that he was right, and posing as lovers was