Page 37 of Tender Blackguard

Who the hell was this woman and what was she doing here? Alastair brought his hand to the side of her face, holding her securely in place as he tipped his head to return her whisper. “Explain, madam.”

She laughed softly before breathing a single word. “Hale.”

Alastair stiffened but retained his pose of seduction. “That’s not an explanation.”

Pulling back in resistance to his subtle hold, the lady tapped his arm as her gaze slid pointedly to the side. For a second, he detected a flare of warning in her eyes, but then it was gone and she gave another throaty chuckle. “Don’t be coy, my lord,” she teased before dropping her voice to a low and private murmur once again. “Would you feel better if I mentioned your cousin? Lady Blackwell?”

“That depends,” he replied darkly, “on your intentions.”

“Our intentions are the same as yours, of course.”

“Our?”

Just as he asked the question, the footman who’d provided their champagne was at their sides.

Lady Sapphire looked up at the servant with an intent gaze. “Thank you, darling,” she murmured as she exchanged her empty glass for a full one.

The footman’s perfectly stoic expression shifted momentarily into a dark frown before he turned to offer his tray to Alastair.

Feeling as though there was more going on than it appeared on the surface, he looked intently at the servant while he took another glass. There was nothing particularly suspect about the man. He looked like every other footman Alastair had ever noted. Except, that is, for when the servant’s attention fell upon the gorgeous woman seated beside him. In those instances, for a flash of a brief moment, there was a distinct flicker of possession in the man’s eyes.

“That shall be all.” Lady Sapphire’s directive was accompanied by a dismissive little wave.

The footman straightened and crossed the room to take a position where he could observe every moment between Alastair and the lady beside him.

“Your bodyguard?” he asked quietly.

Her throaty laugh was warm and lovely. “Husband, actually.”

Alastair contained his surprise and confusion behind an easy smile in case anyone other than the footman happened to be watching them. “Oh, my dear, I think your explanations have only just begun.”

The lady gave a shrug and sipped her champagne with a saucy smile. “Since this party seems to be getting a little...dull,” she noted with a jaded glance about at the other gentlemen, who had started taking a more enthusiastic interest in the provided entertainment, “perhaps we should adjourn to a more intimate setting.”

He hesitated, wondering what exactly her game was. And how she was possibly associated with Hale and his cousin. Before he could form a reply to her suggestion, Lowndes approached with a twitch of annoyance on his face.

“Don’t tell me you intend to spend this evening talking to such a tempting piece, my lord?”

“Not at all.” Alastair rose to his feet before offering a hand to Lady Sapphire, bringing her up beside him. She slipped her arm through his, stepping close against his side as she did so. “In fact,” Alastair continued, “I expect you won’t mind if we depart early.”

Lowndes arched his brows. “You’re stealing one of my party favors?”

“Just for the evening.” Catching the other lord’s gaze, he narrowed his gaze intently. “I have rather specific plans for this one, and I’m afraid I didn’t bring along the proper...tools.”

Lowndes responded to Alastair’s cryptic explanation with a licentious grin. “Of course, my lord. I promised you the freedom to explore whatever pleasures you desired this night. I wouldn’t dream of disrupting your plans.”

Giving a nod of appreciation, Alastair looked down into a glittering gaze and sultry smile. “Shall we?”

“I can’t wait, my lord,” she breathed.

As they crossed through the room, Alastair glanced carelessly about, expecting to see the footman watching them with a sullen stare. To his surprise, the man was nowhere to be seen. Redirecting his focus toward the escape before the activities erupting all about the room were indelibly burned into his mind, he rushed them through the door. Hopefully, his hasty exit would be perceived as lusty impatience for the supposed night ahead rather than disgust for what he was leaving behind.

The rest of Lowndes’s townhouse was quiet as a tomb. He and his unexpected companion did not disrupt the hush with any idle chatter as they made their way to the front door. Once on the front stoop, Alastair noted, “I don’t have my carriage, but the walk isn’t far.”

“No bother. I’ve my own.”

At that moment, a small, nondescript carriage rolled up, driven by a man with the stooped shoulders and curved spine of an old man wearing a voluminous black coat.

“Won’t your husband wonder where we’ve gone?” he asked as he handed the lady into the vehicle. A challenging task considering her costume.

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