it impossible for her to avoid him. After the scandalous way she’d jilted him four years ago she would not be pleased with his new appearance in her life. But she wouldn’t turn to Eldridge either, of that he was certain.
Soon, very soon, all that she had once promised and then denied him would finally be his.
Chapter 1
Marcus found Elizabeth before he even set foot in the Moreland ballroom. In fact, he was trapped on the staircase as impatient peers and dignitaries sought a word with him. He was oblivious to those who vied for his attention, arrested by a brief glimpse of her.
She was even lovelier than before. How that was possible he couldn’t say. She had always been exquisite. Perhaps absence had made his heart grow fonder.
A derisive smile curved his lips. Obviously, Elizabeth did not return the sentiment. When their eyes met, he allowed his pleasure at seeing her again to show on his face. In return, she lifted her chin and looked away.
A deliberate snub.
The cut direct, exactly administered but unable to draw blood. She had already inflicted the most grievous laceration years ago, making him impervious to further injury. He brushed off her disregard with ease. Nothing could alter their fate, however she might wish it otherwise.
For years now he’d served as an agent to the crown, and in that time he had led a life that would rival the stories written in any sensational novel. He’d fought numerous sword fights, been shot twice, and dodged more than any man’s fair share of cannon fire. In the process, he had lost three of his own ships and sunk a half dozen others before he’d been forced to remain in England by the demands of his title. And yet the sudden fiery lick of awareness along his nerve endings only ever happened when he was in the same room as Elizabeth.
Avery James, his partner, stepped around him when it became obvious he was rooted to the spot. “There is Viscountess Hawthorne, my lord,” he pointed out with an almost imperceptible thrust of his chin. “She is standing to the right, on the edge of the dance floor, in the violet silk gown. She is—”
“I know who she is.”
Avery looked at him in surprise. “I was unaware that you were acquainted.”
Marcus’s lips, known widely for their ability to charm women breathless, curved in blatant anticipation. “Lady Hawthorne and I are … old friends.”
“I see,” Avery murmured, with a frown that said he didn’t at all.
Marcus rested his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. “Go on ahead, Avery, while I deal with this crush, but leave Lady Hawthorne to me.”
Avery hesitated a moment, then nodded reluctantly and continued to the ballroom, his path clear of the crowd that besieged Marcus.
Tempering his irritation with the importunate guests blocking his path, Marcus tersely acknowledged the flurry of greetings and inquiries directed at him. This melee was the reason he disliked these events. Gentlemen who did not have the initiative to seek him out during calling hours felt free to approach him in a more relaxed social setting. He never mixed business with pleasure. At least that had been his rule until tonight.
Elizabeth would be the exception. As she had always been an exception.
Twirling his quizzing glass, Marcus watched as Avery moved through the crowd with ease, his gaze drifting past his partner to the woman he was assigned to protect. He drank in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst.
Elizabeth had never cared for wigs and was not wearing one tonight, as most of the other ladies did. The effect of stark white plumes in her dark hair was breathtaking, drawing every eye inexorably toward her. Nearly black, her hair set off eyes so stunningly colored they brought to mind the luster of amethysts.
Those eyes had locked with his for only a moment, but the sharp shock of her magnetism lingered, the pull of it undeniable. It drew him forward, called to him on the primitive level it always had, like a moth to a flame. Despite the danger of burning, he could not resist.
She had a way of looking at a man with those amazing eyes. Marcus could almost have believed he was the only man in the room, that everyone had disappeared and nothing stood between where he was trapped on the staircase and where she waited on the other side of the dance floor.
He imagined closing the distance between them, pulling her into his