his hostess, but most of the first part of the evening he spent watching Maddie. She danced several times, twice with the Marquis of Rochdale. He began to notice that she behaved far more demurely with her other partners, actually seeming a little reserved, but let down her guard whenever she was speaking with the marquis.
What on earth did she think she was doing? Did she not realise that to flirt so dashingly with a man like that was to play with fire? Unless, of course, she wished him to think her available. The girl he remembered would not be so fast or so foolish.
It came to Hallam in a blinding flash. She was deliberately leading Rochdale on! What on earth had got into her? Did she not know that Rochdale was dangerous? The marquis was not a man to be trifled with—surely she must sense that she was in danger of being seduced by the man?
* * *
At the supper interval he saw her seated at a table with two other ladies and a little cluster of gentlemen. He’d hoped that perhaps he might have an opportunity of speaking with her, but the men vied with each other to fetch her drinks and delicate trifles and she was never alone.
Annoyed and frustrated, he decided to take a walk in the gardens and smoke a cheroot. He’d come to the ball to speak to Madeline before deciding on a course of action, but now it seemed that perhaps she did not need rescuing from her husband. Perhaps her tears had been the result of a quarrel and meant little.
He was wasting his time here, he decided. Having finished his small cigar, he threw the butt into the flowerbeds. Walking towards the house, he had made up his mind to take his leave of his hostess when he heard a cry from behind one of the shrubs.
‘No, sir! I did not give you leave to molest me—’
‘You have been leading me on all evening, madame . Am I to understand that you did so without the intention of responding to my ardour?’
‘You go too fast, sir,’ the voice Hallam knew as Maddie’s replied. ‘A little flirtation does not mean—’ There was a little cry of alarm and the sound of a struggle. ‘No, no!’
Striding towards the scene, Hallam saw the marquis trying to force Maddie to lie back on a bench in a small summerhouse at the far edge of the lawns. His intention was all too obvious; he was bent on having his way with her. She might have brought it on herself by flirting so outrageously, but Hallam could see that she was trying to throw the fellow off and he strode towards them, grabbing the marquis by his coat collar and hauling him off her.
‘How dare you?’ the marquis spluttered as he was bodily flung away and landed on his knees. As he rose, the grass stain on his satin knee breeches was evident. ‘You will meet me for this, sir.’
‘Willingly, sir, but then all London will know that you are a damned rogue. No gentleman would try to force a lady when she says no.’
‘She was willing enough earlier,’ the marquis snapped. ‘She has been inviting me to seduce her all evening.’
‘Flirting is one thing—forceful seduction is another,’ Hallam said. ‘Will you choose swords or pistols?’
‘Neither,’ the marquis said, dusting himself off. ‘I have decided that the whore is not worth the effort. I bid you goodnight, sir.’
‘You will not so insult a lady—’ Hallam bristled, but Maddie tugged at his sleeve.
‘Let him go, Hallam. It would only cause a scandal—and it was my fault. I flirted with him and allowed him to bring me out for some air. I should have known what he would expect.’
‘Why did you do it?’ he demanded, his own anger coming to the fore now the marquis was dismissed.
‘Lethbridge promised to give me my father’s notes if I intrigued the marquis sufficiently to get him to accept a dinner invitation.’
‘Your husband told you to flirt with him?’ Hallam looked at her in disbelief. ‘Does he not know of the man’s reputation? He is a dangerous rake, Maddie.’
‘Yes, someone warned me earlier, but
Allan Cho
Kayla Knight
Jessica Anya Blau
Jill Santopolo
Augusten Burroughs
Barbara Ann Wright
Carmen Cross
Hazel Kelly
Niall Griffiths
Karen Duvall