Page 100 of Marigold and the Marquess
Leo frowned. “On her own?”
“No, my lord. The Duke of Huntsford and Duchess Adela escorted her. They only left twenty minutes ago. You might catch up to them if you…well, you cannot go as you are. You’ll need a bath and formal attire.”
“Indeed. Have the tub brought up to my quarters and let Ethan know I have returned.” So much for expecting to find his wife tearfully wailing and moping around the house. He was spent after all those days of hard riding, but he bloody well was not about to let anyone dance with Marigold. Had she given the supper dance to another gentleman?
Well, he was not that much of an ape to call a man out for paying attention to his wife. If he did find her dancing in the arms of another man, he had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who had abandoned her. That she had not taken to her bed with an attack of the vapors served him right. Besides, he trusted Marigold. She did not have a faithless bone in her body. “Ah, Ethan. There you are.”
“And ready to do battle,” his valet said with a grin, holding up his shaving gear.
Indeed, Ethan was in his element, fussing over Leo’s attire, preparing the bath and tossing in…were those fragrant oils? Dear heaven, what was he doing? He had no intention of smelling like a spring garden. “Where’s the sandalwood?”
“That is next, my lord. First we must remove the stink of horse sweat off you.”
He sighed. “All right. I’ll leave you to it.”
After all, he wanted Marigold clinging to his body and not pushing him away.
Next, Ethan shaved Leo’s beginnings of a beard, a task Leo could have attended to himself. But Ethan was having none of it. Apparently, two weeks on the job as his valet was all the experience Ethan needed to take full command.
Leo had to admit the lad was good at his job. Not thirty minutes later, he was clean shaven, presentable, and ready to head out to Lord Finchley’s ball.
His carriage awaited him out front, Collins perched atop. “Good evening, m’lord. Nice to have ye back with us.”
He greeted the man and climbed in. “To Lord Finchley’s.”
It felt odd to sit alone, for Marigold had always been with him lately. He ran his hand along the worn leather, noting the scratches left by Marigold’s crate of bones. Lord, he missed her. Well, they would ride home together.
After paying his respects to Lord Finchley and his wife, Leo slowly made his way through the crowd. Ladies in silk gowns and glittering jewels were everywhere to be seen. The men all wore their formal white tie and black tails, for this was one of the more elegant affairs of the Season. There was quite a din, so he did not know if anyone had heard Finchley’s steward announce his name.
Several ladies cast him beckoning looks as he walked by.
He had eyes only for Marigold…or would have eyes only for her if he could ever find her amid the crush. Ethan had mentioned her gown was a silvery blue silk.
Bollocks.
Blue seemed to be a favorite of the ladies tonight. Well, it was a favorite for most affairs since golden candlelight seemed to bring out the shimmering beauty of the blue particularly well. He knew this because Ethan had thought it important to lecture him about it for a full five minutes as the lad shaved him.
What could he do but listen while Ethan had a razor at his throat?
Finchley’s elegant ballroom was ablaze with candles, the tapers dripping wax as they sat poised in their holders in the crystal chandeliers.
The orchestra was playing a quadrille, and someone mentioned it was the first dance of the evening.
Had Marigold been claimed for this opening dance?
He tamped down the surge of jealousy.
Why should she not dance?
As he continued through the crowd, he spotted Ambrose, Duke of Huntsford, standing with his brothers, Octavian and Julius.
Octavian’s eyes widened in surprise as he approached. “Well, I’ll be damned. I never thought to see you here, Leo. But I sure am glad you are. Finally came to your senses, have you? What happened to bring you back to London? You could not have made it to Exeter and back in this short time.”
“I didn’t.” He raked a hand through his slightly damp hair. “I got halfway there, decided I was an idiot, and turned back.”
“Because of Marigold’s exhibit opening?” Julius ventured.
Leo nodded.
