She stared at him for several seconds, and the man seemed to hold his breath, awaiting her reply.
With a sense of disbelief, Hugh found he did the same thing. He waited, his heart twisting as if a knife had been lodged within.
She did not answer. Merely turned away. The man grabbed her shoulder and twisted her around. A low growl came from his wife’s throat, and Hugh moved forward, iciness flowing through his veins.
“George, you will—”
The man hauled her to him and pressed a kiss to her mouth, cutting off her furious rebuttal.
…
Phoebe jerked from George’s embrace, shock tearing through her. A glint entered his eyes, and he reached out a hand to her. Outrage poured through her, and she slapped his hand away and stepped back. “How do you dare? I am a happily married woman!” she said furiously.
“Married?” he cried, shock slackening his jaw. He appeared a besotted, miserable fool, and Phoebe did not care to offer him any kind words. George squared his shoulders. “Your brother clearly believes that marriage is of little consequence if he is willing to take steps to see us reunited. I even suspected that marriage is a tale to support you returning with a child.”
She stumbled back. Richard told him? Phoebe breathed harshly, anger and hurt pouring through her veins. “I am not sure what Richard told you but—”
“I deduced it myself! You disappeared from society without any word like many ladies do who run away to the country for months and return a widow. We have a child, don’t we?” he asked hopefully.
“We do not, George. My husband and I have a child.” Not even sparing him another glance, she deliberately used the back of her glove to swipe away the imprint of his mouth on hers and whirled away. Thank goodness he had not tried for more intimacy or she would have bitten his tongue off! She did not believe violence was the first response, but she should have slapped his face again!
Phoebe took three steps and collided into an unyielding frame with a rousingly familiar scent. Glancing up, she met the bluest, most beautiful eyes. Phoebe’s breath caught as a burst of relief and happiness filled her heart.
“You came,” she cried happily, flinging herself into his arms.
It took a few moments before his arms came around her. He enfolded her in a hug and rested his chin on the crown of her head. In this embrace, she felt his concern, but there also lingered a tension to his frame that had been absent from all previous embraces.
She withdrew and gave him a tremulous smile. “I am so very happy you are here.”
An inexplicable look of withdrawal came into his eyes. His hands dropped from her and lifted between them. “Are you?”
“Yes, I am. I have been wracking my brain on how to hatch a daring escape plan, but now I can save my dignity because you are here,” she said softly but with firmness. “The only reason I am even at Lady Hart’s ball is because I know what we want to accomplish for Caroline and our family. I have been slowly letting everyone see and speculate on the new Countess of Albury. Of course, society was instantly compelled by rumors of vast wealth.” She took a deep breath. “I have much to explain, and I hope you will give me that chance without rushing to any judgment.”
At his lack of reaction, she faltered into stillness and simply stared into the eyes that peered down at her. She saw a stranger. That distance startled Phoebe immensely. She attempted a smile that felt brittle, but he did not respond. It was then she recalled George behind her and that he had kissed her only a minute ago. Ice lodged against her stomach. Had her husband seen their embrace and misinterpreted it? “I…what you witnessed just now was—”
“It is of no consequence.”
No consequence? How could he say it so casually? His handsome, impassive countenance betrayed no sign of anger.
Footsteps sounded behind her as George drew close, but Hugh did not lift his regard from her. George’s approaching presence was as significant to him as an ant crawling in the underbrush by his feet. He held out his hand to her, and Phoebe placed her palm against his, allowing him to tug her to his side. Hugh walked with her into the ballroom, and when they entered together, she felt the ripple of interest from several persons.
Instead of taking her from the ball, he led her to the dance floor at the announcement of the waltz. With a soft sigh of pleasure, she walked into his arms, basking in the delight of dancing with him. It felt so right…so wonderful to be held in his arms so.
Her joy was suspended, for his gaze was simply too cool and watchful. But then he tugged her a little closer than what was considered proper, and a breath trembled from her lips. They moved together at first almost tentatively, but within a few beats something changed.
Phoebe could feel the pulse of the violins in her body, and she felt the subtle tightening of his fingers on her body. She was very much aware of his arms about her waist and his rousing masculine scent. This time when she boldly peered at him, in his gaze she saw a spark of remembered heat. The moment felt remarkably intimate.
They soared across the expanse of the ballroom, staring into each other’s eyes. It was as she suspected: her husband was the most elegant and accomplished dancer.
With each glide, and twist, and turn, her enjoyment grew, and Phoebe laughed. And how her heart tumbled inside her chest when his mouth curved and he, too, smiled.
He spun her away from him, and she twirled in two rotations before she was back in his arms, this time even scandalously closer. Oh God. Her body felt charged, vibrantly alive, her heart exquisitely tormented by the intense feelings burning through her for this man.
Phoebe could feel the curious stares of several people from society upon them, yet he only had eyes for her. Her heart thrilled even as a soft warming went through her. The dance ended, and he led her from the dance floor and out into the hallway. She felt a stare and glanced back to see Richard observing their departure. A footman rushed to deliver her wrap, and she thanked him and rewarded him a small coin. Hugh led her to a carriage that was still in the queue and helped her inside. The weather had changed since their dance, and it was now raining. The conveyance was large and elegant, one of the most luxurious she had ever seen.
He sat opposite her. “I am taking you to our townhouse.”
“And where is that?”