“I would like to be an expert of you,” Ross said quietly.
Sara’s startled gaze flew to his, and for a moment she couldn’t seem to speak.
“I surprised you,” he said.
“I can’t deny that.” She sighed. “We’re treading on dangerous ground here, Ross.”
“What’s so wrong with dancing with you?”
“They will talk.” She tipped her head to the crowd surrounding the dance floor. “And you know that’s not what I mean.”
“Let them talk. And what do you mean?”
“You care not for my reputation?” She raised a brow, and he was well aware that she didn’t answer his other question. He knew what she meant, but he wanted her to say it.
“You said you won’t marry and that you’ll waste away in Hadley Fields.”
“Hadley Springs and I must take care of my father. I hardly call that wasting away.”
“I do. You need to be here, in London.”
With me. But he would not voice that thought, because she was right. He was treading on dangerous ground. He should have walked away. He should have left her in the corner spinning stories about the people she observed. That’s what he should have done. But he hadn’t, and dammit, he was glad he was holding her, dancing with her, right here, right now.
Much to his regret, the music ended, forcing them to step away from each other. Ross felt keenly the loss of her presence. He bowed to her and she curtsied to him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s my pleasure.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother bearing down on them with Lady Penelope and her mother in tow. Sara must have seen them as well, for she took a step away from him, then another, until the crowd swallowed her up. He felt her loss sharply and had to force himself not to wade through the crowd after her. Because as much as he didn’t say it, he did care for her reputation. Besides, he’d accomplished what he wanted. He’d pulled her out of the corner of the room, and already he found some young bucks looking at her differently. How strange was it that instead of making him feel better, their interest made him feel as if he wanted to put his fist in the face of each man who looked at her.However, he could not keep her in the shadows because he preferred to keep her to himself. That was not fair.
“Ross, I would like you to meet Lady Grafton and her daughter Lady Penelope.”
Both women curtsied, and Ross tried to hide his grimace. Lady Penelope was certainly beautiful—she had a becoming figure and a warm smile—but she didn’t do a thing to stir his interest.
“Ladies,” he said with a polite smile. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
“Oh, yes, Your Grace,” gushed Lady Penelope. “The decorations are divine.”
Decorations? Ross looked around and discovered that there were indeed decorations. Hothouse flowers dotted the ballroom, and some sort of fabric hung from the ceilings. He supposed they were acceptable but far from divine, and that put him in mind of what Sara had said: that Lady Penelope was mentally redecorating his sitting room. The thought caused him to bite back a smile. It would do no good for Lady Penelope to think he was smiling at her.
Lady Penelope shot him an anxious look, and he realized he had not responded to her comment about the divine decorations. “Yes, quite divine,” he said.
Her mother looked at him expectantly. There was a gleam in her eye, a desperation that made him uncomfortable.
Against his better judgment, he looked over Lady Penelope’s shoulder, searching in the direction of where Sara had disappeared. She was conversing with someone. A man. No, a young man. Younger than Ross. And she was smiling. She looked like she might even be enjoying herself. He was surprised by the twist of an ugly emotion inside of him. He was jealous of the lad, for he had Sara’s beautiful brown eyes watching him.
Pretending that someone was attempting to attract his attention, Ross nodded, then looked at Lady Penelope, who was staring up at him with wide blue eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I must speak to on an urgent business matter. My apologies, ladies, and it was a pleasure meeting you.” He started away, knowing it was bad form and that he would catch hell from his mother for it.
“Ross.”
With a sigh, he stopped and turned back to the duchess, who had followed and was frowning at him.
“Whatever are you about? Lady Penelope is a wonderful girl.”
“You need to stop introducing me to all these potential brides, Mother.”
Elizabeth guided them to the same corner where he had found Sara hiding. She looked around to make certain no one was listening. Luckily, or unluckily for him, no one was about. “It was not my intention to introduce you to Lady Penelope, but her mother asked for an introduction and I could not say no.”
“Of course you couldn’t. I apologize for snapping at you.”
“I know this is not an appropriate time or place, but you really must consider marrying.”
“I’m well aware of my duties.”
Her face softened and she touched his arm. “It’s been two years, Gabriel.”
He looked away, chagrined to discover that his reluctance to wed had nothing to do with Meredith’s death. At one time it had, but not anymore. He knew what the problem was, but he couldn’t tell his mother. There was only one woman he would consider marrying, but he could never ask her, because he’d been responsible for her cousin’s death.
Shimmering gold caught his eye and he found his gaze drawn to Sara. She was still with that upstart, who was not alone in his attentions. Sara was surrounded by several young bucks, all vying for her attention.
“What the bloody—” He cut off his words and pressed his lips into a fine line. He would have to go rescue her. She would hate being the center of so much attention. He could barely see her through the throng surrounding her. What if the letter writer were among them?
No, this simply would not do.
He started for her but was brought up short when his mother grabbed his elbow. “What are you doing?”
“Rescuing Sara from those…” He couldn’t think of an appropriate word for those lads. At least nothing he could say in front of his mother.
“Leave her be, Gabriel.”
His mother didn’t know about the letters. If so, she would understand why he couldn’t leave Sara be. He needed to be beside her to protect her.
“She needs to be guarded,” he said more to himself.
“You don’t know?”
He pulled his gaze from Sara, alerted by his mother’s tone; she was looking at him oddly. “Know what?” he asked.
“Sara is an heiress, Gabriel. She’s the only remaining child of the marquess and is set to inherit everything that is not entailed. A veritable fortune. Why do you think those gentlemen are paying her attention?”
An heiress? But of course she was. If he’d stopped to think, he would have realized that all of Meredith’s considerable dowry was now heaped upon Sara’s dowry, creating quite a large sum of money. Large enough to attract every eligible gentleman out there.
How positively greedy they were being. They saw her only for the money she would bring to them. They didn’t see her quiet ways. They didn’t see that she liked evenings in front of blazing fires, and that she liked to talk with her feet tucked up beneath her. Neither did they know that she would despise being hemmed in and that she didn’t like being the center of attention.
“Leave her be,” his mother said. “Let her experience what it’s like to be wooed and courted before she returns to Hadley Springs.”
Ross had to look away. His jaw muscles were clenched so tightly that he felt a sharp pain. His mother was right. He should let her go.