Clayborough could offer no response because he hadn’t thought of it. When he could have taken the initiative, he hadn’t done so. Amelia dearly hoped this did not speak of things to come. Now Thomas would have … She broke off the thought, for it didn’t bear completion.
“Well, in the future, you needn’t wait for me to contact you. You know precisely where I am. You own your own conveyance, and public transit is well within your means.” In other words, you can rescue me without an expressed written invitation.
A stricken look flashed across his face. “Yes, of course. I was just under the assumption that we—”
“Well, in the future, do not assume.” She didn’t mean to snap her reply, but she was beginning to draw comparisons between Lord Clayborough and the viscount and the baron was coming up wanting—which just wouldn’t do. Again, she did her best to quell further such thoughts. “But as I am in town, all of that may be a moot point.”
“Begging your pardon, Lady Amelia, but I have left Lord Barnaby waiting for me in the game room. If you’ll give me a moment, I must excuse myself from the game.”
The baron regarded her as if awaiting her permission to depart, which only succeeded in vexing her all the more. Nonetheless, she assented with an irritated nod. Lord Clayborough executed a polite bow and strode off, soon swallowed by the press of the crowd.
Conscious of some disapproving stares from certain matrons of the ton, Amelia stoically started toward the refreshment room. Narrowly focused on her destination, which was conveniently situated next to the game room, Amelia didn’t see the person bearing down on her until it was too late. They collided with unforgiving force. Masculine hands grasped her upper arms to steady her and remained long after she’d established her balance was sound.
“Beg my par—” A glance up caused the words to still in her throat and her heart to give a horrifying thud. Amelia had never seen an emerald burn, but as she viewed the green eyes staring down at her, she imagined it would look exactly like that.
Chapter 17
Thomas didn’t breathe a word; he simply retained a firm hold of Amelia’s arm, and began steering her toward the exit. And sadly, there wasn’t a thing she could do to prevent him from hustling her from the ball like a disobedient charge.
At some point during her unceremonious leave taking, Lord Alex materialized at his friend’s side. He gauged the situation with a single look and then assumed the role of an emissary.
“Now, Armstrong, don’t go getting all—”
With neither a break in his stride nor a glance at Lord Alex, Thomas severed his friend’s efforts to negotiate peace. “This is none of your concern. I will handle the matter as I see fit.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Where is Miss Foxworth?”
Ignoring the quaking of her legs and the violent turning of her belly, Amelia swallowed hard and replied in a small voice, “Dancing.”
“Do you have any idea how much this little escapade will cost you? Do you even have the sense to be terrified?”
Nothing noisy or dramatic from the viscount, he issued his threat in the kind of dangerous soft tone that undoubtedly had men—or case in point, a lady—hoping the punishment would be carried out swiftly and with minimum fuss.
Amelia had sense enough to wait until they’d exited the ballroom before trying to free herself, but she was ever conscious of the servants and the guests milling about in the hall.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, do unhand me. You’re hurting my arm, and if you’re not mindful, you’ll cause a scene,” she said in a fierce whisper.
The only indication he gave that he had heard her was to ease his hold so his fingers weren’t digging into her flesh.
“Cartwright, please inform Miss Foxworth that Lady Amelia has taken ill and I have escorted her home. When she is ready to leave, please see her safely back to my mother’s residence.” Thomas spoke with a barely controlled kind of rumble in his voice as he peered down at her, his eyes slits and two slashes of red coloring his cheekbones.
Lord Alex gestured beseechingly with his hand. “Armstrong—”
“Damn it, man, just do as I ask and don’t interfere.”
Lord Alex appeared genuinely concerned. She glanced at Thomas. Perhaps, she really did have something to fear.
Lord Alex halted abruptly. “For God’s sake, do remember she’s Harry’s daughter.” After sending her what she took to be