The Poet’s Stern Critic: A Regency Historical Romance (One Night in Blackhaven Book 5) by Mary Lancaster

Author:Mary Lancaster [Lancaster, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2024-07-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Cornelius felt as though he were walking on air as he returned to the ballroom with Lady Alice on his arm.

She might not love him, but she certainly liked him better than any other man of her acquaintance. Rage against the insensitive hurt done to her by an entitled—and titled—brute was lost in the wonder at the passion he had begun to ignite in her. God, she was delicious, desirable, delightful… She would let him away with nothing. She would scold, argue and defy, holding him to account and to the highest of standards. And she would expect no less from him. From the beginning, she had accepted criticism and apologized when she was in the wrong, which was something Cornelius would need to practice…

But he was rushing ahead of himself. A few kisses and a certain profound affinity did not mean marriage! The difference in their rank would never go away, and he would never be a wealthy man. He was the poorest of catches for an earl’s daughter, and yet the possibility of Roderick’s betrothal to Helen had given him hope. If Braithwaite was prepared to tolerate an alliance with one Vale, why not another? They were both younger sons.

One thing was certain—even if Cornelius had to run away with her and live on his wits in poverty, he would not allow her to be married to Atherstone. Or Glover, supposing Helen rejected him and he returned to Alice’s court. In fact, he wondered if anyone would ever be good enough for her. He certainly wasn’t! But if she loved him…

He was rushing too far ahead again. Politely, he bowed her through the French door into the ballroom, where the next dance was already underway. He strove to put distance between them, to protect her reputation, and immediately saw the hurt register in her eyes before her long, luscious eyelashes swept over them.

Snatching up a glass of champagne from the table, he presented it to her, making sure their fingers touched, and a smile trembled on her lips. He flicked one eye closed, so quickly no one else could have seen it, then escorted her to one of her sisters and bowed before walking away.

The first person he noticed was Darcy Daubin, dressed as a cavalier, striding purposefully toward her. A lady was obliged to dance with whoever asked her, and dogs like Daubin should not be allowed near her. On impulse, Cornelius seized Daubin by the elbow and led him away to a quiet corner by the gallery stairs.

They probably looked like friends conferring, since Daubin was too stunned to object until, just as Cornelius halted, he wrenched his elbow free.

“What the devil are you about?” He peered at Cornelius as though in an effort to recognize the man who had accosted him.

“Lady Alice does not wish to dance with you or even see you here. If you go near her, I’ll black your other eye.”

Daubin’s lips fell open, as much in fury as in fear.

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