The undisputed reigning Diamond of Society, Artemis had taken London by storm when she’d first made her bows, and that seemed entirely unlikely to change. She was gorgeous, no one would dispute that. She was something of a genius at navigating Society. Her oldest sister was not merely a duchess, she was theDuchess of Kielder. Her husband was inarguably the most powerful and influential person in the entire kingdom; he had once demanded that the Prince Regent himself bow to him. And the Prince had obliged.
And Artemis had just connected herself to “the stray.”
In a look of innocence that was entirely convincing, Artemis asked the offending gentleman, “What was it you were saying about my friend? I fear the noise in the room made it impossiblefor me to make out your exact words.” Her sharp tone of warning could not be missed. It was a challenge and a threat all wrapped up together.
The young gentleman stammered a little, not daring to repeat his unkind words when confronted with them so directly.
Artemis looked at a couple of the others scattered around. “Perhaps you’d care to repeat whatever it was. The lot of you seemed very intrigued by it, even in agreement.”
All went silent.
Artemis turned back to Gillian. Her eyes held something more than mere compassion and empathy. There was understanding there. This Diamond of Society, somehow, someway, knew what it was to be alone, to feel unwanted, to feel small and vulnerable and in danger. “Did you happen to hear what it was he said that they all seemed to agree with so entirely, Miss Phelps?”
Gillian found strength and courage in that moment. “Something about how he wished he could remain at the ball a bit longer, but alas, he has obligations elsewhere.”
In perfect synchronicity, they both looked to the cruel commentator in obvious anticipation.
Apparently realizing he had been bested, he offered a bow and left. Some of the others who had joined in the mockery more quickly than they ought scurried off as well. Others now looked impressed.
As she led Gillian away, Artemis said in a whisper, “Your first lesson in doing battle, my new friend: sometimes the best strategy is to join forces and return fire.”
Nothing had ever been the same for Gillian again.
“Pardon me.”
The voice startled Gillian. She’d been so lost in her memories that she hadn’t realized her steps had taken her out of the walled garden and directly into the path of Mr. Sarvol.
She didn’t for a moment think he was a cad or a bounder or a physical danger of any kind. But he was ridiculously handsome, with his thick dark hair and mesmerizing brown eyes, and he threw her off balance every time she saw him. And because he’d kept mum during dinner the night before and had immediately thereafter retired to his bedchamber for the night, Gillian didn’t feel like she knew anything about him, and that made her nervous. How could she possibly decide if her approach to Mr. Sarvol ought to be to retreat, wield a shield, or return fire if she didn’t know what type of threat he might pose?
“Forgive me for startling you,” he said. “My thoughts were far afield. I was not heeding my surroundings.”
“I was a bit lost in my thoughts as well,” she said quickly and quietly.
“Sometimes that is the very best place to wander,” Mr. Sarvol said.
“Only if one’s thoughts are worth roaming through.”
He smiled fleetingly, though the impact was significant.Handsome men tend to have handsome smiles, she reminded herself, doing her utmost not to be intimidated. The cad at that long-ago ball had possessed a fine smile as well. But she never should have let her guard down around him.
Mr. Sarvol was watching her with a confused sort of curiosity. “I hope you will forgive me if I am wrong, but you seem to have decided you dislike me.”
“Not ‘decided.’”
He clearly did not fully believe her. She didn’t entirely believe herself.Dislikedidn’t quite seem the right word.Wary.Cautious.Unsure.
The approach of a distant carriage rescued her from having to explain further. She couldn’t hold back the grin that rose to her face as she looked toward the front of the house. Her heart jumped clear to her throat.
“This is your last-remaining Huntress, is it?” Mr. Sarvol asked.
“She is. We haven’t seen her in over a year. It was her first London Season, and she was so young, younger than any of us when we made our bows. And she is as dear to us as a sister.”
“I have a sister,” he said. “If she were approaching in that carriage, I don’t think I could keep myself from rushing over to greet her. And I would be very protective of her until I was absolutely certain that everyone at this house party was trustworthy.”
She met his eye before they both walked toward the front of the house, searching for any indication that she ought to whisk Lisette away with all possible haste.
“I vow to you, Miss Phelps, you have nothing to fear from me. My parents raised me to be a good and decent person. The late Earl and the Dowager Countess of Lampton also had a hand in my upbringing, and they did not raise cads.”
“Cads are more than willing to lie about being cads,” Gillian said. “Should you prove to be one, I fully intend to notify the dowager.”