“You’ve thought this through very well, Blackwood,” Tom finally granted, glaring back at the members of the ton who were clearly whispering about him behind their hands.
“Thank you,” Blackwood said, with a great deal of satisfaction.
Tom cleared his throat. “But you have forgotten one rather important component.”
Blackwood turned to him and looked down his rather aristocratic nose despite the fact they were the same height. “And what is that?”
“The lady.” Tom said slowly “She has no wish to wed. She told me so herself.”
Blackwood’s lips curled in a slow smile. “She has no wish to marry any ofthesefools, but I am fairly certain that she will say yes toyou.”
“Why the devil would you say that?” Tom demanded.
Blackwood folded his arms over his perfectly tailored chest. “She came to you in the dead of night asking for help. She entrusted herself to you. And I see her looking at you now across the ballroom.”
Tom tensed, every instinct instructing him to whip around and catch sight of her.
He did not.
“Do not look quickly,” Blackwood said under his breath, “For we must keep this guise well.”
The statement was obvious, but shockingly hard to follow given Tom’s ease with subterfuge.
Slowly, ever so slowly he rotated just to his left and allowed his gaze to scan the room until at last, he caught sight of Lady Elizabeth.
The crowds were already parting for the diamond of the season. The gazes shifted from him to her. It was interesting the fact that they had been staring at him and now they were staring at her.
The whispers began through the room.
There she is! The perfect Lady Elizabeth! How stunning!
And envy too.
He felt it in the sharp spikes of some of the ladies’ glares. Lady Elizabeth maneuvered through the crowd, her head high, her shoulders back.
His lips parted in a small smile. Despite that, despite what had occurred in the last few hours, she was not daunted and he admired her for it. He admired her for many reasons, and he found himself starting forward.
“Wait,” the duke protested.
But Tom could not wait.
He crossed the room in a few easy strides, and before anyone could say another word, he was standing before her and her father.
He extended his hand.
“Will you dance with me, Lady Elizabeth?” he asked without hesitation.
The entire room gasped as one.
After all, the East End Earl had asked the Diamond to dance.
Everyone leaned forward with bated breath. Or so it seemed.
Would she say yes to a man of the gutter who had been suddenly raised up and was a friend of the Duke of Blackwood? Or would she turn from him, nose upturned.
Lady Elizabeth cocked her head ever so slightly to the side, raised a silvery brow, hesitated, and for one long, cold moment, he was absolutely certain that she was going to turn from him without a word.
But then she lifted her gloved hand and placed it into his.