Knaves' Wager by Loretta Chase Page B

that Rachel very nearly dropped a curtsy. "All the same, he ought have more consideration," she said, hastily recovering. "He knows he's the centre of attention, and therefore draws attention to you."
    "I have never heard it remarked Lord Brandon was a considerate man. Will you excuse me, please? I believe Cawble is having trouble with one of the footmen."
    Mrs. Davenant's servants were far too greatly awed by their mistress to dare experience difficulties of any sort. She had simply told a falsehood in order to escape the company. She did not hurry from the ballroom, or along the hallway, yet she was short of breath when she reached the safety of the supper room.
    Everything, of course, was as it should be. Cawble had made the punch himself from his own carefully guarded receipt, a copy of which any hostess in the ton would have given a vital organ to possess. There was an excellent nonalcoholic version and a sublime spirit-laden one. The cold dishes were artistically laid out. The warm ones would be served at the last possible moment. The china and plate, the table linens, the decorations — all was in perfect order, as Lilith ought to know, having reviewed the situation some fifty times already.
    She was examining every detail for the fifty-first time when a chill tickled her neck She knew the marquess stood behind her, even before he spoke, though she had not heard him enter. Her body stiffened.
    "The centre-piece wants to move a bit to the right," he said.
    She turned slowly to face him. "It is precisely where it belongs."
    "Unlike certain parties you could mention?" He moved a few steps closer.
    "Now you have mentioned it, I would prefer you returned to the company, my lord. Your disappearance will be remarked, and I do think you have caused enough talk as it is."
    "But my hostess will not talk — to me, at any rate. I wonder why that is."
    Another step brought him a few inches from her, and Lilith, retreating, found herself backed up against the table.
    "Now I wonder whether you mean to clamber over it," he said gravely. "You cannot be comfortable as you are."
    "Will you please — "
    She heard footsteps approaching. In the same instant, his hand clasped her arm, and in one smooth series of motions he'd drawn her away from the table and guided her through the opposite door into a small room adjoining.
    The well-oiled door closed soundlessly behind them, Beyond it she heard two servants talking softly, then the sounds of chairs being moved. After two or three endless minutes, the footsteps and voices faded away.
    "They are quiet and efficient," said Lord Brandon as he folded his arms and lazily leaned back against the door. "Yet all servants are bound by some unwritten code to convey every tidbit they discover to every other servant with whom they are remotely acquainted. Thence the tidbit, enlarged to prodigious size, is conveyed for the delectation of their masters. Speaking of delectable, Mrs. Davenant — "
    "I must insist you return to the company, my lord," she said unsteadily.
    "Your new coiffure," he went on, "is a delicious concoc-tion. Is that an orchid — no, two — nestled among the curls?
    I rather fancy orchids. I have a gardener who works magic in a damp, dark hothouse. Still, I have never seen the species displayed to such advantage."
    "It appears they came to me by mistake. Since there was no card, it was impossible to return them. My abigail believed they looked well enough with the rosebuds."
    "They suit you better than rosebuds. You are not a common rose sort of beauty, but a rare and dangerous exotic. Dangerous to my peace of mind, at any rate," he added, his voice very low. "You don't want me, but I cannot keep away, you see."
    "I see that you are standing in my way. Still, there is another exit," she said, clasping her hands to stop their trembling.
    His glance caught the movement, then the green eyes were piercing hers. "You are always wanting to run from me," he said. "Do I frighten