Page 50 of Rakes & Reticules
Fletcher glanced over her head, then around the ballroom with the guests swathed in their evening finery. “After the dance ends, pretend to go to the ladies’ retiring room. I’ll meet you. There’s a back way to my office from there. We can form a plan to secure your safety.”
After hesitating, she dipped her chin in a shallow nod.
When the dance ended, she slipped away without a word.
After ensuring Huxley wasn’t in the ballroom and hadn’t observed his wife’s departure, Fletcher exited through another doorway.
If Huxley had grown suspicious this quickly, there was no time to waste.
CHAPTERTWELVE
A few minutes later…
Still in the ballroom
Tension radiated throughout Siobhan, tensing her muscles, cramping her lungs, and keeping her on the edge of the bench she sat upon. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Lady Huxley’s presence tonight wasn’t right. Her disturbing questioning, constant shifty glancing about, and artificial smile unnerved Siobhan no end.
She didn’t trust the pampered beauty.
Without intending to, she observed Fletcher’s and her ladyship’s progress around the dance floor. He seemed attentive to the viscountess but frequently swept his astute gaze over the assembled guests.
Fletcher always knew exactly what went on in his club.
So far, Lord Huxley had not appeared in the ballroom, not that the welcome respite eased Siobhan’s edginess.
According to Fletcher, the man had a bad leg, so he’d likely made straight for the card room, which seemed to be the viscount’s preference. Nonetheless, Fletcher had insisted she pretend to have twisted her ankle in the unlikely event his lordship asked her to dance.
Fletcher still had no idea why Huxley targeted him and his businesses.
Over the past days, Siobhan’s concern for Fletcher’s safety had increased until it became a thrumming accompaniment to her pulse. Her growing concern made no logical sense.
He was her employer, and it was the worst sort of foolishness to entertain a notion of anything else between them. In her head, she knew that, but her silly heart seemed to have developed a mind of its own.
Yet, she wasn’t so stupid as to act upon these newfound feelings.
She had a brother and sister to care for. Her life, her choices, weren’t her own. Her actions and decisions must always take into consideration what was best for them. Still, when she lay alone in her beautiful bedchamber, she couldn’t stop thinking about Fletcher.
The way he tilted his mouth boyishly when he smiled. The breadth of his shoulders and how the muscles flexed when he moved. Or the way his chestnut hair shone in the sunlight. The rich baritone of his voice…
Yes, he captivated her, but she was not—could never be—a captive to her emotions.
Siobhan shifted, leaning slightly to the side to keep Fletcher and the viscountess within sight. Across the ballroom, two smartly dressed gentlemen watched the couple with more than casual interest.
Fletcher’s men spoke in low tones on the ballroom’s other side.
A shiver juddered her spine.
A menacing undercurrent infected the merriment and cheer within the ballroom.
Did anyone else sense the disturbance?
The string quartet played the waltz’s last notes, and with a speaking glance to Fletcher, Lady Huxley drifted away.
From beneath her eyelashes, Siobhan observed the viscountess’s progress as she left the ballroom, and then Siobhan shifted her focus to Fletcher, who had crossed to the other side. He swept the ballroom with his intense, verdant gaze, his attention resting on her for a brief moment, and then, with an almost indiscernible nod, he also departed.
Hopefully, his efforts with Lady Huxley tonight would prove successful, and this farce could end.
The gentlemen observing Fletcher and her ladyship separated, one strolling after Fletcher and the other in the direction Lady Huxley had gone. To the casual observer, nothing seemed the least peculiar about their behavior.
