Page 56 of A Night of Forever
She smiled at Colbert as she descended—a warm, open smile that she seldom shared with him.
He felt his jaw clench and his vision narrow as Colbert held her hand a moment too long. But, instead of frowning at Colbert’s forward behavior, Isobel rewarded him with another dazzling smile.
Even recognizing the emotion as petty jealousy, Arend had to exert his will to control it. In the past two weeks, thanks to Isobel, he had run the gamut of emotions: desire, fury, exasperation, and now jealousy—the last an emotion he rarely experienced.
Cursing Victoria and all her works, he descended the stairs to intercept Isobel. When she entered the ballroom it would be on his arm, not Colbert’s.
“Good evening, Lady Isobel. You look beautiful tonight.” He loved the blush that colored her cheeks. Her sparkling eyes seemed to see into his soul, and he almost did not notice the scar. “Your Grace.” He bowed first to Marisa, and then to Maitland. “Colbert,” he said, hoping his tone conveyed the warning he could not put into words.
It must have, as he saw Maitland hide a grin and the smile on Isobel’s face dim.
Colbert bowed. “Good evening, Lord Labourd. It’s splendid to see no lingering injuries from your ordeal.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I am in excellent health.” Arend knew it was rude, but some possessive force made him take Isobel’s arm, draw it through his, and then turn away from Colbert to lead her up the stairs to the receiving line.
“Arend,” she said under her breath, “please slow down. I am not a racehorse.”
He tried to rein in his possessiveness, but all he could think about was how to get Isobel as far from Colbert as quickly as possible.
“Arend.” She tried to tug her arm free. “You’re being abominably rude. We should wait for the others. I invited the lieutenant as my guest.”
Don’t respond, don’t respond…
The hell with it. “For a guest, the lieutenant was being overly familiar.” But he shortened his stride and glanced down at her.
She was looking at him strangely, and a smug little smile played around her lips. “I don’t believe so. All he has done this evening is hand me down from the carriage.”
Annoyed that he had disclosed more of his feelings than he intended, he refused to be drawn into any further comment.
He guided Isobel through the receiving line, into the ballroom, and then across the floor to where Serena and Beatrice stood talking with a group of ladies. He bowed to them all, handed Isobel into their care, and then decided he needed to find the other Libertine Scholars and a drink.
They were, as he’d guessed, in the card room playing faro.
“Arend,” Sebastian said as he strolled up to their table, “would you care to sit in on a hand?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll watch.”
“Have the gossips been silenced already?” Christian gave him an evaluating head-to-toe study. “I thought you’d stay near Isobel.”
He should have. But he could not stay in Isobel’s presence when his emotions owned him. He felt far too vulnerable. “I will, of course, dance the two waltzes with her. That should allay any gossip that I might end the betrothal because of her disappearance.”
Christian’s eyebrow rose. “And who will protect her from those rakes who might see your desertion as permission to take liberties?”
Damn. He had not thought of that. He made to turn but caught the beginning of a sardonic smile on his friend’s face. That and the knowing look that passed between Christian and Sebastian made him stop and turn back.
He’d done his fair share of teasing when these two had fallen under the spell of a woman, but he did not appreciate being on the receiving end. “Isobel has the ladies to protect her,” he said, through almost gritted teeth.
“True.” Sebastian played another card. “Except for when the ladies are dancing. I remember quite clearly how easy it is to draw a lady just that little bit too close. Many an ample bosom have I—”
Arend didn’t wait for Sebastian to finish. He swung away from the table and stalked out of the card room to the sound of Christian’s and Sebastian’s laughter.
He reached the ballroom just in time to see Colbert bowing low over Isobel’s hand. Whatever he was saying made her laugh and slip her arm through his as he led her onto the dance floor.
Thank bloody Christ it isn’t a waltz,was Arend’s first thought. His second was that while he admired Colbert, at that instant he’d like to beat the worthy lieutenant black and blue.
The evidence was right in front of him. Colbert wanted Isobel. Worse, his interest was not that of a rake. It was the interest of a good man who wanted a certain woman to become his wife.
He stood at the edge of the dance floor in silent battle with himself. He wanted to tear Isobel from Colbert’s arms. But once this mess with Victoria was over, he had promised Isobel she would walk away with her reputation intact. His making a scene at a ball where she was already the subject of speculation and gossip was not the way to achieve that goal.
