The night deepened around him until he finally stepped up to the porch, knocking on the door.
He followed the butler upstairs, his heart beating faster as they reached the music room.
The other man opened the doors, announcing Ash’s arrival. Making his way into the room, he saw Cordelia already on the bench of her pianoforte, his jaw clenched as he took in her beautiful profile, her lovely face lost in the music.
Mr. Moorish waved, and several other soft greetings called out, but he hardly heard them as his gaze landed on the newest visitor.
The Baron of Balstead.
His stomach turned even as his fingers curled into fists. There were rakes and then there were truly depraved men, and Balstead fell into the latter category. What was more, he was staring at Cordelia as though she were on the dinner menu.
Balstead’s eyes were hungry, his chest puffed out, his hands gripping his own thighs.
Several curse words rose to his lips as his mouth curled around them, holding them in. He’d never liked Balstead. Why had he ever agreed to go to a party at the man’s home? Because until he’d met Cordelia, nothing he did had actually mattered.
But what was the man doing here now? Wasn’t he supposed to be hosting a sinful party? Balstead should return to his guests and leave the Moorish family alone.
Ash would hang before he allowed that man to touch Cordelia.
The thought surprised him, but he didn’t turn away from it. In fact, it straightened his spine, filling him with a certainty he’d never experienced in his entire life. Protecting Cordelia was more important to him than his own life.
With that in mind, he made his way into the room and sat down next to Balstead.
* * *
Cordelia finished her piece of music, sliding her fingers from the keys. She’d like to play all night, losing herself in the music. But her family would expect her to socialize.
Lord Hartwell and Juliet had left for his country estate yesterday, taking a short repose as a newly married couple. Hartwell’s sister, Charlie, had stayed behind with her family to give them additional privacy.
Cordelia liked the woman a great deal, and as the only other unattached female, she really ought to spend time with the lady, but her heart was in turmoil. Part of her wanted to celebrate the successes of today. Ash had asked her to marry him again. And this time, they’d touched one another, agreed to have a family, and a music career for her, a home for him.
So why did that still seem hollow?
She should be happy. Her agreement and the marriage to Ash was everything she’d thought she’d wanted.
But looking at him now, as he slid into a seat next to their newest guest, she realized she wanted more. She wanted his heart and she wished to give him hers.
She was in love with him.
The frightening part was what she’d be willing to give up in order to make that a reality. She’d seen, in her mind, the picture he’d painted of a little girl sitting next to her on the bench of her pianoforte.
It stole her breath how much she wanted that reality. A little girl or boy tucked to one side of her as Ash wrapped an arm about her from the other.
When had this happened? And how did she gain his heart?
She stood and the men in the room stood as well. His Grace, her father, Crestwood, and Craven. Balstead, their surprise guest, stood too and so did Ash, bumping his arm into the other man’s.
Her eyebrows went up.
“That was lovely,” Balstead called over the clapping. “You’ve a gift.”
“Thank you,” she answered, watching Ash’s face turn to stone. His arm bumped Balstead’s again.
“Dashlane,” Balstead drawled, looking over at Ash. “I do believe you’re getting sand on my arm.”
In answer, Ash smiled, an angelic grin that looked for all the world innocent as could be as he used his arm to give Balstead a large pat on the back. “Took a walk on the beach. It’s good for the soul.”
Cordelia might have worried as bits of sand fell from her own clothes that her family would realize they’d been on the beach together, but another curiosity had captured her thoughts. “You know each other?”