Love's Justice (Entangled Scandalous) by Joan Avery Page A

between Victoria and Stanford. He seemed to challenge the man to make a scene. After a moment, when it seemed all eyes in the room were on them, all anticipating a confrontation, Stanford bowed slightly and left the room. There was no doubt in Victoria’s mind he would seek out liquor once more.
    Lord Montgomery turned away from Stanford to face her.
    “Thank you.” She was angry and embarrassed and scared all at once. She looked for a means of her own safe escape. She didn’t know how much longer she could maintain her equilibrium. She was shaking and needed to get out of the room.
    “I’m afraid I should go,” she said.
    “You’ve forgotten, then?” The earl reached out and took her hand in his.
    Dazed, Victoria asked, “Forgotten what, my lord?”
    “Forgotten you promised me this dance.” He pulled her gently toward him and circled his free arm around her waist, pulling her closer than was necessary for the waltz. Slowly, he drew her out onto the dance floor. They moved smoothly and, for a moment, she let the room and its occupants become a blur. She was tired, oh so tired.
    His closeness buoyed her emotionally and physically. At this moment she never wanted to leave his arms. She was failing terribly at being brave and courageous. She just wanted to be held and comforted. But in reality this man was as inappropriate as Lord Stanford, for entirely different reasons. She couldn’t drag him any further into her mess. Couldn’t use him as support or comfort. To do so would be his ruin.
    “Please, your lordship, I need to go.” His grip tightened slightly as he twirled her around the floor.
    “Go where?” His low tone of voice indicated he sensed her distress.
    “Anywhere. Anywhere but here.” She broke away from him. It took all her strength and purpose to pull away from his warmth and intelligence, from his care and concern. She couldn’t mislead him like this. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair.
    She bolted from the room, no doubt shocking the other guests. She didn’t care. She didn’t belong here, in this house, in this country. All of it was wrong for her. Maybe there was no place where she could be happy.
    He caught up to her before she reached the stairs. “Victoria.”
    He had never used her given name before. On his lips it sounded too personal, almost intimate. She shook her head to rid herself of the sound.
    “Victoria, come with me.”
    “Where, my lord?” she pleaded. Where could she find peace and comfort?
    “Hugh,” he corrected her before adding, “I want to take you to a magical place.” His voice was soft, so soft. It was an invitation she couldn’t refuse. Her distress was heartrending but despite that, she smiled.
    “Come with me.” He extended his hand, and she took it as a lifeline.
    He led her through the darkened house until they came to small door. He threw it open and led her outside into the cold.
    She took in a quick breath of the night air and shivered pleasurably—from the cold or his attention, she didn’t know which. He didn’t stop. He hurried on, his hand holding hers tightly. She didn’t know where she was going. Didn’t care.
    It was only when they turned the corner of the house that she knew. Lit up brightly by the gaslights that also served to warm it, the beautiful conservatory glowed in the winter night like a fairyland. Its delicate iron metalwork disappeared in the night sky and there, beneath the glass, was the promise of warmth and beauty, of the exotic and the unusual. She could think of no better place to flee.
    He opened the door, and she stepped in and was embraced by the moist, warm air. Here was the source of the beautiful white lilies that had decorated the dining room table. Here were colors so alive they defied the night sky, defied the cold outside. Reds and greens, whites and yellows. Deep blues and pale pinks.
    It was as if winter didn’t exist, as if nothing outside of this place existed.
    Her heart lightened. “It’s the most