“The dance you requested is over, Westfield,” she threw over her shoulder. “You are free to bask in the glow of your hard-earned reputation and the amorous attentions of your admirers.”
She hoped he understood the obvious. Whatever the cost, she would not be seeing him again.
Marcus watched Elizabeth move gracefully toward Avery. With her back to him, he no longer had to suppress his grin. She had given him the cut direct. Again.
But alas, his sweet Elizabeth would soon discover that he was not so easily dismissed.
Chapter 2
“Mr. James,” Elizabeth greeted him with genuine affection. “It is a pleasure to see you again.” She held out her hands and they were swiftly engulfed in his much larger ones, his face lit with a rare smile. Tucking her hand under his arm, he led her through nearby French doors to an indoor atrium.
She squeezed his forearm. “I thought perhaps I had arrived too late and missed my appointment.”
“Never say it, Lady Hawthorne,” he replied with gruff fondness. “I would have waited all evening.”
Tilting her head back, Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath of the lushly scented air. The heady redolence contained within the vast space was a pleasant and most welcome relief after the smells of smoke and burnt wax, powders and heavy perfumes that had overwhelmed the ballroom.
As they strolled casually through the paths, Elizabeth turned to Avery and asked, “Would I be correct in assuming that you are the agent assigned to assist me?”
He smiled. “I will be partnering another agent in this matter, yes.”
“Of course.” Her mouth curved ruefully. “You always work in pairs, don’t you? As did Hawthorne and my brother.”
“The order of things works well, my lady, and has saved lives.”
Her steps faltered. Saves some lives. “I lament the existence of the agency, Mr. James. William’s marriage and subsequent resignation is a blessing I treasure. He almost died the night I lost my husband. I eagerly await the day when the agency is no longer a part of my life.”
“We will do our best to resolve this with the utmost haste,” he assured her.
“I know you will,” she sighed. “I’m pleased you are one of the agents Lord Eldridge chose.”
Avery squeezed her hand where it draped over his forearm. “I was grateful for the opportunity to meet with you again. It has been several months since we last met.”
“Has it truly been that long?” she asked, frowning. “Time is running away from me.”
“I wish I could say the same …” a familiar voice interjected from behind her. “Unfortunately, the last four years have seemed an eternity to me.”
Elizabeth tensed, her heart stopping before quickening its pace.
Avery turned them both to face their visitor. “Ah, here is my partner now. I understand you and Lord Westfield are old acquaintances. Hopefully such a fortuitous arrangement will expedite matters.”
“Marcus,” she whispered, her eyes widening as the import of his presence struck her like a physical blow.
He bowed. “I am in your service, madam.”
Elizabeth swayed on her feet, and Avery tightened his grip to steady her. “Lady Hawthorne?”
Marcus reached her in two strides. “Don’t faint, love. Take a deep breath.”
It seemed an impossible task as she gasped like a fish out of water, her corset suddenly unbearably constricting. She waved him off, his proximity and the scent of his skin making it even more difficult to expand her lungs.
She watched as Marcus shot a telling glance to Avery, who then turned and walked away, suddenly finding interest in the fronds of a distant fern.
Lightheaded but recovering, Elizabeth shook her head rapidly. “Marcus, you have truly lost your mind.”
“Ah, feeling better, I see,” he drawled with a sardonic tilt to his lips.
“Find your amusement in some other venture. Resign your commission. Leave the agency.”