have to watch his seductions. She would be forced to associate with the women who caught his fancy. She would see the smiles he shared with them, but not with her.
Damnation. Her breathing quickened. Against every shred of self-respect and intelligence she had, she took the first step to follow him.
The soft touch upon her elbow reminded her of Avery’s presence. “Lady Hawthorne. Is everything well?”
She gave a jerky nod.
“I will speak with Lord Eldridge as soon as possible and—”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. James.”
Elizabeth waited until Marcus rounded the corner and disappeared from her view before facing Avery. “My role is simply to deliver the journal. Once that is accomplished the rest remains up to you and Lord Westfield. I see no need to change agents.”
“Are you certain?”
She nodded again, anxious to finish the conversation and return to the ballroom.
Avery’s look was clearly skeptical, but he said, “Very well. I will assign two armed outriders to you. Take them with you everywhere and send word to me as soon as you receive details about the meeting.”
“Of course.”
“Since we’ve finished here, I shall depart.” His smile held a touch of relief. “I never cared much for these affairs.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back.
“Elizabeth?” William’s booming voice rang through the vast space.
Eyes wide, she clutched Avery’s fingers. “My brother must not see you. He’ll suspect immediately that something is amiss.”
Avery, appreciating her concern and trained to think on his feet, nodded grimly and ducked swiftly behind a rounded bush.
Turning, she caught sight of William approaching. Like Marcus, he didn’t mince his steps. He walked toward her with casual grace, his leg bearing no outward sign of the injury that had almost taken his life.
Although they were siblings they could not have been more disparate in appearance. She had the raven hair and amethyst eyes of their mother. William had the fair hair and bluish-green eyes of their father. Tall and broad-shouldered he had the look of a Viking, strong and dangerous but prone to mirth as witnessed by the fine laugh lines that rimmed his eyes.
“What are you about?” he queried, casting an overly curious glance around the atrium.
Elizabeth tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, and steered him toward the ballroom. “I was merely enjoying the view. Where is Margaret?”
“With her acquaintances.” William slowed and then stopped, forcing her to halt with him. “I was told you danced with Westfield earlier.”
“Gossip already?”
“Stay away from him, Elizabeth,” he warned softly.
“There was no polite way to refuse him.”
“Do not be polite. I don’t trust him. It’s odd that he is in attendance tonight.”
She sighed sadly at the rift she’d caused. Marcus made poor husband material, but he’d been a good friend to William. “The reputation he’s established these last few years has justified my actions of long ago. I’m in no danger of being swept away by his charms again, I assure you.”
Tugging William toward the ballroom, Elizabeth was relieved when her brother gave no further resistance. If they hurried, she might be able to see where Marcus was headed.
Marcus stepped out from his hiding place behind a tree and brushed a stray leaf from his coat. Kicking dirt off his shoes, his gaze remained riveted on Elizabeth’s retreating back until she disappeared from his sight. He wondered if it was obvious, this maddening desire he had for her. His heart raced and his legs ached with the effort he exerted not to follow her and snatch her away for his pleasure.
She was infuriatingly stubborn and obstinate, which is how he’d known she was perfect for him. No other woman could arouse his passions thusly. Furious or consumed with lust, only Elizabeth made his blood heat with the need to have her.
He wished to God it was love he felt. That emotion faded eventually, burning out once the fuel was gone. Hunger only grew worse with time, aching and gnawing until it was fed.
Avery appeared at his side. “If that is what you call an ‘old friend,’ my lord, I would hate to see what your enemies are like.”
His smile held no humor. “She was to be my wife.” Stunned silence was the reply. “Have I rendered you speechless?”
“Damnation.”
“An apt description.” Girding himself inwardly, Marcus asked, “Does she plan to speak with Eldridge?”
“No.” Avery shot him a sidelong glance. “Are you certain your involvement is wise?”
“No,” he admitted, relieved his ploy had worked and grateful that, despite the years, he still knew her so well. “But I’m certain