Her face reddened and she snatched her hand back. “I-I have guests,” she stammered.
“But of course.” He stepped aside.
She hurried across the balcony toward the ballroom.
“Strange girl,” he said as she cast a backwards glance at them before blending into the crowded ballroom. “One would think she didn’t like me.” He faced Phoebe.
Her narrowed eyes didn’t quite hide her amusement. “How long were you eavesdropping?”
“Long enough," he replied. "You look especially lovely tonight. The bodice of that dress is particularly fetching.”
She glanced at the tightly fitted beaded bodice of her olive green damask gown. "For a man, you have an unusual interest in women's dresses, my lord."
“I have an interest in how you look in them. I like your hair up.”
"Lord Ashlund, if you think you can charm me with sweet words you are quite mistaken—and that devilish smile will not aid you either."
"Indeed?"
A blush crept up her cheeks.
"Lovely," he murmured.
Her mouth parted in surprise. Good.
"I suppose we would return to the party," Kiernan said. “My father is looking forward to seeing you. We'll have to greet Lady Halsey first. We weren't officially invited. I'm sure she'll understand that we couldn't bear to remain parted.” He winked.
"Ashlund, I'll murder you with my own hands."
“Missed me that much, did you?" He grinned. "We'll take care of that later. Your uncle is anxious to see you as well."
She paled.
“Phoebe, love, it’s not as bad as all that.” He smiled gently. “Is it?”
“I can imagine what my uncle thinks,” she cast a glance toward the ballroom, “considering the rubbish you must have told him.”
“Actually, it was the rubbish my father told him that saved my head.”
“My uncle wouldn't waste time with a scoundrel like you.”
“That's exactly what your uncle said about you.” Kiernan grinned. “Of course, that didn’t stop him from wanting to cut my heart out.”
“Would have served you right,” she retorted.
“That's what my father said. Nonetheless, he convinced your uncle to give me a chance. Though, I did have to agree to certain…terms.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion. “What terms?”
“That I take excellent care of you.”
“Rubbish,” she muttered.
“In fact, he was adamant on the point.”
“How is a forced marriage taking excellent care of me?” she demanded.
“I am saving you from yourself, Phoebe. If you"—a woman halted near the open doors and Kiernan cupped Phoebe's elbow and urged her to the far corner of the balcony. “If you care anything for your reputation, you'll marry me,” he said. “After what's happened—”
“If you are referring to the fact you held me cap—”
“I'm referring to the fact you will be seen as a loose woman.”
She gave him a smug smile. “I have been seen as a loose woman for some time.”
“Indeed?” He leaned his hip against the balcony wall.
“It may interest you to know I eloped when I was young. As far as the polite world is concerned, my innocence ended then. If it is a virgin you have your heart set on…”
Kiernan gave a soft snort. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Phoebe frowned. “What?”
“If you expect me to be put off with that nonsense, you’ve miscalculated.”
A dangerous gleam glinted in her eyes. “My uncle filled you in on the details, didn't he? Or perhaps it was your father.”
“My father?" He should have known she would try and slip out of the marriage by telling her father about her elopement. "It was your uncle, as a matter of fact.”
“Including the details concerning the period between the time Brandon and I left the magistrate and the time he and Lord Redgrave arrived?” she asked.
Redgrave? Her uncle hadn't mentioned the earl. “He told me enough," Kiernan replied. "I can surmise the rest.”
“Then you know you're getting no vestal virgin.”
“I could hardly think that, considering the way you were throwing yourself at Lord Beasley that first night I saw you.”
She gasped. “How dare you?”
“I wish you would make up your mind,” he said. “You're insulted by the possibility I might consider you a virgin, yet angry when I point out the fact that you were flirting publicly with a man.”
Phoebe opened her mouth, then her gaze shifted past him.
“Lord Ashlund,” a female voice said.
Kiernan grasped Phoebe's hand, tucked it into the crook of his arm, and turned to face Lord and Lady Dawney.
He guided Phoebe forward and stopped a few feet from the pair. “Lady Dawney,” he said.
Lady Dawney curtsied, then proffered her hand. Kiernan released Phoebe and bent over the older woman's hand, then straightened and looked at Lord Dawney.
“Horace.”
“Lord Ashlund,” the viscount replied with a stiff bow.