She blinked. It was widely known that she was a reporter and many hosts had barred them from their parties and balls. “I have to confess that it’s not only for pleasure.”
His hand tightened. “Do tell, my lady.” He sneered the last word, making her pulse rush in her ears.
“I have discovered,” she said, attempting not to tremble, “that a certain widow is having a rather illicit affair with a married lord.”
His hand relaxed, but his eyes remained shrewd. “That’s the reason you’re here?”
She shook her head, feigning ignorance. “Why else would I be here? Truth be told, I’d leave society entirely if not for my employer. He insists.”
He pulled her a touch closer, making her jerk back in fear, but he held tight. “Your employer? Not your fiancé?”
Cold fear washed over her. Had he seen Bennet? Knew he was alive? “I’ve not had a fiancé for a long time now, my lord.”
“Yes. I believe he died three years ago.”
She nodded, trying to shake the fear that was making it harder to breathe. This man was asking questions that were dangerously close to the truth. And Bennet wasn’t here. Did he face danger like this often, or worse? Was this what he’d wanted to protect her from? She pressed her thighs together, reminding her of the knife tied about her thigh. She drew in a fortifying gulp of air as she looked him in the eye. “I have to confess, you know a great deal about me, Lord Shipley. Far more than I know about you.”
His eyes roved over her face then, a hungry light kindling in his gaze. He was a large man, tall and bulky, his dark hair slicked back, his features not unattractive but wolfish. He looked as though he might eat a woman alive if she weren’t careful.
She needed to remove herself from this conversation as quickly as possible.
“We could change that,” he whispered. “Shame you are spending your life alone when you could have someone at your side.”
“Are you proposing, my lord?” she asked, her brows going up as though she weren’t frightened half to death. “Usually, a manholds your hand rather than your upper arm when he makes such a request.”
He laughed, showing a set of teeth that made him look even more like a predator. But he did let go of her arm. “It wasn’t actually marriage I was offering.”
She took a half step back, attempting to put space between them. He moved forward. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but since you seem to know a great deal about me, you’ll know that I don’t engage in such…” She searched for an appropriate word.
“Dealings?” he asked. “I know. Which only makes you that much more interesting. Do you still love him? Are you still hoping he’ll return?”
Her breath caught again. The feeling that this man knew Bennet was alive pulsed through her. “He’s never coming back. I’ve made my peace with that.”
“Then why deny yourself?” Shipley was close again, the crowd seeming to push them together. She winced as she tried to maintain some distance.
Her next answer needed to be perfect. “Life has denied me, my lord.”
He searched her face, his hand grabbing her arm again. “Come with me.”
“No.” The word came out as she shook her head, trying to tug free, but the strength of his grip and the press of people kept her from making any progress.
“You’ve nothing to fear from me,” he said, leaning close still in a way that made her skin crawl and her breath come out in short gasps. She had everything to fear from this man.
“My lord,” she started, “I meant what I said. I don’t dally, ever.”
“Oh, but I’m accustomed to being an exception,” he said, then he gave her that wolfish smile.
Never had she wished for Bennet more than she did in this moment. She understood the full weight of what he’d been attempting to protect her from just as clearly as she understood all the ways he’d been right.
She’d saved herself all this time. And now that Bennet was back and she might be his, was the villain who’d taken everything from them going to take her innocence too?
“I beg your pardon,” another male voice chimed in. “But Lady Rebecca has promised this dance to me.”
Dillan. Her head snapped around to see her old friend standing just behind her, his hand covering the earl’s.
Shipley gritted his teeth. “Lady Rebecca, you didn’t tell me you had a full dance card.”
“Not full.” She shook her head, leaning back into Dillan, her body limp with relief.