watching the dance who looked exactly the same.
The difference was that she was in danger, and they were not.
“I am pleased that your Scottish bull has abandoned you for the moment, for there was something I needed to tell you,” he whispered, his hands now toying along the buttons of her dress.
She tried to stomp his foot, but he twisted his leg with hers, effectively trapping her. And then he pulled her along, moving between people, so they were no longer in front to see the dancing, and thus were more hidden from view.
“Stop struggling,” he hissed, gripping her arms more tightly, smiling for the effect of those around them, though very few were paying attention. “I could compromise you so easily right here, in front of all of these people. And then your plans for finding a new husband would be quite ruined.”
Edith swallowed and obeyed, forcing her face to relax as much as she could.
“Better,” he purred, his hands gliding around to the front of her bodice. “Now, if you keep avoiding me, Edith, I will make things most unpleasant for you.”
“How’s that?” she asked, clenching her teeth. “They are already far from pleasant.”
“Tart lassie,” he said with a laugh, mocking her accent. “Have you forgotten that the house you live in belongs to me?”
She had not forgotten, could not forget, but refused to reply, lifting her chin.
“You agree to be at my disposal, entirely, in every way,” he murmured, one hand sliding up the front of her bodice and tracing up her neck, “and I will let you remain in the house. If you do not, I will take the house from you, and you will be cast out.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she replied, feeling her cheeks grow cold even as her heart began to race desperately.
She could not return to Scotland, not like that, and not without some assurance of being taken care of in some way. Lachlan was returned to her, but how could she rely on him for anything so early in their rekindled relationship? Her friends could take her in, but at what cost to their own lives and reputations?
“Try me,” Sir Reginald said, his hands wandering over her body and lingering where they ought not. “I have told you I want you, that I would be generous with you, and that your heritage will not deter me in this. It is your only option.”
“Hardly,” growled a deep voice that Edith had come to know well.
The pressure at her back vanished, as did the wandering hands, and suddenly Edith was flung forward into a pillar. She turned to find Lord Radcliffe setting Sir Reginald into the hands of Tony and Cam, both of whom looked positively murderous. They escorted Sir Reginald from the room immediately, and with such discretion that no one would have thought anything amiss by it.
Sir Reginald glared over his shoulder at her with such venom that Edith trembled from head to foot. She couldn’t even feel relief at her deliverance, knowing what such a look would mean for her. Before, she had only thought Sir Reginald would ruin her, which was bad enough, but now could see what a naïve thought that was. She had earned his hatred by spurning him, and there was no telling what he might do when in such a rage or in seeking vengeance.
Lord Radcliffe was back to her at once, and he took her shoulders in hand, giving her a very serious look.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his eyes hard.
Edith tried to nod, but her emotions were too close to the surface, and her trembling increased.
He took pity on her and ushered her to a small alcove just off the ballroom, hidden from view. He directed her to sit in the chair within, while he sank to his haunches before her and took her hands.
“Edith, did he hurt you?” His voice was rough, but surprisingly gentle, particularly for such a large man who seemed to have equally rough manners.
She shook her head, swallowing back her tears. “No, he did not hurt me.”
Lord Radcliffe raised a disbelieving brow but said nothing.
Edith sighed and tried to tug her hands free, but he held them fast. “He… he touched me,” she admitted, disgust and shame rising within her. “More boldly than he usually does. I tried to get away, but he trapped me, and I knew if I screamed, I would be ruined. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t—”
“I know,” he overrode, squeezing her hands tightly.