The Matter of a Marquess - Jess Michaels Page 0,35
who thinks otherwise is a fool.”
The music had begun to fade, and she realized soon he would release her. They wouldn’t dance together again tonight—it would cause too many whispers if they did. So this was it. Her last moments of touching this man until the next accidental graze of fingertips or brush as they passed each other in hallway.
She tried to memorize it all as she stared up into that handsome face. The warmth of his presence against her, the smell of leather and pine that made her entire body feel tingly, the weight of his fingers and the sure way he guided her as they moved. She drew in a long breath and tried to paint a portrait of this moment in her mind.
His lips parted, his pupils dilated, and suddenly it was only them. Forever them.
“Aurora,” he whispered, his voice rough.
“Yes,” she answered, shocked she could find the word, the breath to say it.
“We need to talk, don’t we?” he asked.
Her heart rate elevated. So here it was. The real conversation they’d both been trying to avoid. The one Katherine had urged her to have. The one that terrified her.
“Yes,” she said. “I think we do, even if we tried to pretend we wouldn’t be forced to do so.”
The music ended, and Nicholas stepped back. He bowed slightly and took her hand, guiding her back to the edge of the dancefloor, where he took the cane a servant had been holding since the dance began. Once the footman had departed, Nicholas looked at her again.
“Meet me in the library?” he asked. “In half an hour? No one will be there with the party going on. It should be…private enough for this.”
Her entire body felt shaky, like she might pitch over at any moment, but she managed to nod. “I will.”
His mouth tightened and then he stepped away. “Until then.”
She was left to watch him depart, crossing the room toward his brothers and sister, who were now gathered together. It was evident they had been watching her dance with Nicholas. They were all trying to look innocent, but couldn’t hide their interest.
She had no idea what they would say to him. And if their warnings would change the tenor of the conversation she would have with him shortly.
She pivoted away from the seeking eyes, and staggered out of the ballroom and onto the terrace. She needed air and to collect herself before she saw Nicholas next, before she had her questions answered and heard his.
She rested her palms on the cool, rough stone wall of the parapet and stared up at the sparkling stars. She breathed in the night air and felt her anxiety ratchet down step by step. She was almost calm again when she heard the terrace door open. She peeked over her shoulder to find Lord Sweeting coming toward her.
She flinched. This was the last person she wanted to see right now.
“My lady,” he said as he stepped up beside her and placed his hands too close to hers on the wall’s edge. “A beautiful night, don’t you think?”
She cleared her throat. “It is,” she agreed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, my lord. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Sweeting said, and turned to lean back on the wall’s edge. He looked her up and down. “I think I last saw you at Lovell’s funeral.”
“Are you here to offer further condolences?” she asked, edging away.
He followed the movement, disregarding her need for extra space. “I could find ways to offer consolation, I’m sure. Is there a price?”
She pursed her lips. “Have you been drinking, my lord? You forget yourself.”
He shrugged. “I drank a little,” he admitted. “Watching you across the room, thinking about the fact that you were found in a brothel of the worst kind not two weeks ago. And yet you’re here.”
She tensed her jaw. “I will not discuss this with you, Sweeting. Good evening.”
She moved to step away, but his hand came out and caught her wrist. She flashed briefly to Roddenbury and how he’d done the same at the Cat’s Companion. And just like that night, she had no protector coming.
“If you’re hunting for a lover, Aurora, I’m sure there will be many who’ll oblige. Make you their mistress, pay for access to that voluptuous body of yours.”
“Stop it,” she whispered, and tugged at her arm. He refused to release her. “I’ll scream.”
“And cause more trouble for yourself? I don’t think so.” He leaned in then, his wet mouth