Netherby Halls (19 page)

A bevy of young men immediately surrounded the two
young women, but Sassy’s gaze darted about the room looking for the
marquis. She felt sadly deflated to find that he was not
present.

She was surprised, however, to find that in addition
to the marquis, even Percy Lutterel was nowhere to be seen. She
asked, “Sophy, does not Mr. Lutterel have the intention of
attending this delightful rout of yours?”

When, predictably, Sophy pouted, Sassy smiled to
herself. She was growing very fond of her new friend and all her
extreme expressions.

“He is the most vexing man alive, Sassy. I have no
notion whether he plans to show his face here tonight, and at this
moment I don’t care!”

Ah
, thought Sassy,
Sophy cares very
much.
And it was at this moment that the butler reentered the
room. In a booming voice that overrode the music coming from the
violins, he advised all interested parties that the Marquis of
Dartmour and Mr. Percival Lutterel had arrived.

Sassy had to admit that it was exciting to be with
Sophy at the center of attention. But she did not feel as though
her heart was about to beat out of her chest until she heard that
the marquis had arrived!

Percy went directly towards Sophy, who immediately
gave him a frosty glare and turned away from him. As the marquis
was beside Percy, and was therefore incorporated into her snub,
Mrs. Delleson put a hand to her heart at her daughter’s
objectionable behavior. Seeking to repair the damage, Sophy’s mama
went hastily towards the new arrivals, hands extended amicably
towards the marquis, her cheek towards Mr. Lutterel.

Sassy felt a giggle coming on as she watched Sophy
ignore Percy with careful intent as she flirted outrageous with the
bucks at her side.

A country dance was struck up, and both girls found
themselves on the floor. Sassy was very sure that her friend was
not having half the fun she pretended she was having.

Percy attempted to approach Sophy at the end of the
dance; however, she turned away from him and placed her hand in
that of young Lord Grey. Sassy arched a look at Sophy, for this
would be her friend’s second (albeit only country dance) time up
with Lord Grey in a row. This would raise disapproving
eyebrows.

When the dance was over, Percy was in a fit of a
temper and marched in front of Sophy’s face to demand on a harsh
whisper that she dance with him.

Sassy, who was standing at her shoulder, closed her
eyes and thought the man most unwise.

Sophy’s chin went up, and she answered him curtly, “I
am fatigued to death, Mr. Lutterel, for I have been dancing this
half-hour and more.” She arched a look at him and continued,
“Though I am sure you have not been here long enough to
notice!”

“Sophy, my only love, do but let me explain,” Percy
began, running a frenzied hand through his flaxen locks.

However, another country dance was struck up, and she
turned from him to take Lord Grey’s hand and once again lead him
onto the floor.

Sassy was led on the floor by some young buck, but
her attention was for the scene unfolding. A third dance with Lord
Grey was sure to be censured. Percy looked as though he was about
to call Lord Grey out. Sophy’s mother was trying to catch her
daughter’s eye and call a halt to her dance with Grey. Dowagers
were leaning into one another and whispering, the frowns evident on
their faces.

And then
, even as she watched that scene unfold,
she was suddenly diverted. The
marquis came up behind the young
man she was dancing with and said to him in an amused voice,
“Begone, lad.”

The marquis’s smile as he tapped the young man’s
shoulder was both authoritative and gentle, and the young man bowed
stiffly but retreated.

Lightly, easily he held her hand as he led her
through the steps of the dance.

Percy, pushed to his limits by the warm smile Sophy
awarded Lord Grey, was moved to make a tactical mistake. The
machinations of the country dance were not designed with
conversation in mind, but this did not stop Percy from pushing Grey
away from her and taking his place. Sassy nearly giggled as she
watched Percy and Sophy, for what must they do but attempt to speak
to one another in bits and pieces whenever the dance bought them
together. More than a few people noticed this foolishness, and she
could see Sophy growing embarrassed at the glances her way.

The marquis and Sassy found, when their eyes met, a
shared moment of mirth that made her stomach feel as though little
wings were fluttering inside.

When the dance ended and he walked with her to see
her comfortably seated, she made the mistake of looking up at his
face. She felt mesmerized by his blue eyes; it was as though they
were alone in the room. Their emotions were fully charged and
demanded release in one another.

She couldn’t breathe. It felt as though the air in
her lungs had been sucked out of her, and her knees were wobbly and
unsteady. Why did he have this affect on her? Heat rushed through
her body, and she suddenly discovered a glass of lemonade being
placed into her gloved hands.

“Hopefully this offering is timely and will buy me
some favor in your eyes,” he said softly.

She felt his gaze on her lips and had to work hard to
find a way to answer him, as her mouth had pursed for a kiss. What
was wrong with her?

“Th-thank you,” she managed and took a long gulp of
the sweet liquid. “Very thoughtful of you, for I do feel …
warm.” Sassy heard herself say the words in a tone that sounded
downright submissive and was disgusted with herself. She was acting
like a schoolgirl with her first major crush.

She saw that Sophy had stomped off to chat up a few
young bucks and shook her head ruefully over it before putting a
hand to her forehead.

He saw this at once and said with some concern, “It
is stuffy in here. Let us retire to the card room. ’Tis less
crowded there, and perhaps you might even enjoy observing the
players at whist.”

His voice was solicitous, his touch was thrilling as
he took her elbow, and all at once, without even touching her ring,
she knew what she had always suspected—the Marquis of Dartmour was
a warlock. He was infused with magic. It gave off an energy from
his body, like an entity, pulsating with mana. Why had she never
noted that before?

Because he has lifted the shield hiding his
power
, her inner magic whispered. Why was he allowing her to
know him now—what was his motive?

“Because, Sassy, the time has come for us to know one
another,” he answered her unspoken thought, shocking her.

He shouldn’t be able to read her mind like that. She
put up her own shield to block him, and he laughed and said in her
ear, “Very good. You are very strong, and I hope you have it up all
the time when you are at Netherby.”

Her mouth dropped. What should she answer? “Why?” she
settled for asking out loud, but even this admitted to having a
shield. Didn’t it? “Why would anyone need a shield at Netherby? And
by shield I take it that you mean caution?”

“
You know better
, though caution is always a
good thing,” he answered.

“I am always cautious,” she said on a breathless
note.

“Are you?” His voice was a caress near her ear, and
her lashes fluttered.

“Ah … a place to sit,” she said to change the
subject, allowing him to see her seated on the soft damask
loveseat. When he sat beside her, she was aware and relieved that
there were just enough people in the room to keep her from falling
into his arms, for her inner magic was driving her to do just
that.

She wanted to know the extent of his power. She had
to know if he was a Dark Magic sorcerer. She fingered her ring, and
her eyes began to close as she started the silent chant. He stopped
her by taking her hand and causing a break in her
concentration.

“You have only to ask,” he said softly.

“And would you tell me the truth?”

“Why bother asking such a thing? If you think I might
lie, would I not start off with one?” he answered impatiently. “You
are smarter than that.”

“Indeed, and I am smart enough to know you will not
answer me tonight. You are not ready to go that far,
are
you
?”

“No, not ready to go that far,” he answered, looking
into her eyes and adding, “but soon, love, soon.”

“Why, my lord, do you speak in riddles? Why are you
forever doing what you should not do just because you can?” Sassy
snapped, caught up in a state of confusion and not knowing where to
go.

He laughed. “You are quite charming when upset—your
creamy cheeks spotted with color, your green eyes bright. Why do I
do the things I do? I should dearly love to satisfy you with an
answer, my love, but I need a specific.”

“Well, for one thing, telling Sophy you would not
attend her rout unless she invited me. How dare you put me in such
an awkward position? ’Twas the most insufferable thing to do.”

“How so?
I wanted you here
,” he said
blandly.

“You see, you make your own rules, and why should you
want me here?”

“Temper, sweet love. I want you within my sphere. You
are …” He hesitated. “An unknown, a bit of a mystery with your
particular, er, aura, yes, let’s call it aura.”

She felt deflated. She had wanted him to say
something pretty, something about caring for her, ‘liking’ her
company. This was not what she wanted to hear, and she frowned and
turned away from him. “I see,” she said in a small voice.

“Indeed, and you are a delectable beauty, Miss
Winthrop. I can see why your good doctor uses your given name so
freely …
Sassy
,” he whispered in a voice that made her
feel fevered. “Yes, it has quite a feel to it.”

“I am certain you have enough women without bothering
yourself about me,” Sassy answered, hoping she sounded imperious to
him.

“I am truly the only one who can be the judge of
that, my Sassy. Don’t dislike me so vehemently, I may not be
just
what you see.”

“Meaning what exactly? How do you know what I see?
Tell me, my lord, do you see who you appear to be?”

“You mean if I bothered to look?” he returned
sharply.

“Yes, if you bothered to look at yourself, would you
see a man with disdain for others less fortunate, less clever, less
elevated? You behave as though the truths you see are the
only
truths. You don’t allow yourself to see another’s.”

His blue eyes regarded her with an intensity that
sent shivers of desire through her, desire that was difficult to
deny. In spite of what she saw, in spite of what she said, she
wanted him. Did he see that?

“I believe in
your truth
, Sassy Winthrop. I
believe in yours, and I thought I would never believe in a woman
ever again.” He shrugged. “Most women would take that as a
compliment—
do you?”

“I do not,” she returned, gazing at the hands she had
folded in her lap.

“Why not?”

“Because I believe you are trifling with me. Do you
think I don’t know that it was your magic,
yours
that caused
my … my …”

“Dream? Are you speaking about the dream? Do not
offend both our intellects by denying this.” He paused, but as she
neither looked at him nor responded, he continued. “
I did
not
call on magic.
It
called on me, just as yours called
on you that first day when we saw one another in your village.” He
shook his head. “Trifle with you? Indeed, I wish that were the
case, but, my dear Sassy,
it is not
. I am not at all
trifling with you.”

She felt her cheeks burn, but their conversation was
cut short as Percy Lutterel appeared on their scene appearing
harassed and shaking his head about, looking almost fitful.

“Justin—oh,” he said as he spied Sassy beside his
friend. “Good evening, Miss Winthrop. So sorry to interrupt,” he
said suddenly as he looked from her to the marquis.

Noting his apparent distress, she said softly, “How
do you do, Mr. Lutterel?”

“Not well. In fact, that is why I am here. I wonder
if I might have a word with his lordship for a moment?”

“Of course,” Sassy said, getting to her feet and
finding the marquis jumping to his as he bowed.

He kissed her hand and said, “I am sorry for this
interruption. I could have sat here with you all evening.”

“And how unseemly that would be of me. Gentlemen, if
you will excuse me,” she said as she moved with grace and left them
at her back.

She went in search of Sophy, who she found coming in
from the garden doors and looking as miserable as Mr. Lutterel had
appeared.
Ah, they must have had a tiff
, she thought and
touched Sophy’s shoulder.

“Oh, Sassy, how grateful I am for you, but I can not
speak now, for if I do, I think I shall bawl.”

* * *

“Devil take you!” the marquis said to his dearest
friend. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you, interrupting me at
such a time.”

“Damnation, Justin.” Percy moved restlessly. “I never
would have done so had I realized in time, but there I was, and it
was too late. Just wanted to tell you that I am leaving.”

“What? Leaving? Now? Why?” The marquis was furious.
He had just managed to make some headway with Sassy.

“It is Sophy—I can’t … won’t stay here to watch
her and Grey. She says she will have him, so if that is what she
wants,
then so be it
. I have made up my mind in the matter,”
Percy said, looking miserable of mind and heart. He waved his hands
about before putting a fist to his forehead. He then looked
intently at the marquis. “
Must see that I cannot stay.
”

The marquis pulled out the small gold watch that
rested in his waistcoat pocket. It was nearing ten o’clock, and he
had received word earlier that day advising him he would have a
visit at midnight from a certain Mr. Wheeler. It was business, and
he was anxious to conclude it. Better early than late, he thought.
“All right, Percy, and there is something you and I must discuss. I
can go over it with you on our way back to the lodgings, but I want
your mind to concentrate not on the lovely Sophy but on what I will
be discussing with you.”