“Chapman, that is quite enough. Your vile tongue has been loosened by strong spirits. You are clearly not in a fit state to be among gentile company. Apologize and move away from the lady.”
That voice! The rich blend of baritone, clout, and dominance could only belong to one person.
Mr. Marcellus! He’s arrived!
Helen lifted her chin to watch Mr. Marcellus, dressed in a navy-colored coat, cream-striped waistcoat, and black breeches, close the space between them in three powerful strides. Like a tempest storm, she could feel the waves of anger rolling off his person.
“What is she to you?” The sneer in Mr. Chapman’s voice was palpable. He looked over his shoulder.
Mr. Marcellus kept his frosty gaze on Mr. Chapman’s face, his jaw muscles clenched. “Miss Davenport is among the most handsome, accomplished women of my acquaintance and the woman I am courting.”
Yes, Mr. Chapman, you heard correctly!
Helen trembled, knowing that she would quickly become a target and enemy number one for the matchmaking mamas of the Ton.
“You want the worthless woman?” Mr. Chapman’s face contorted in a grimace. “Take her. Please.”
He pushed her towards Mr. Marcellus, whose strong arms caught and steadied her. The rich scent of sandalwood and cinnamon tickled her nose.
With a rush of adrenaline, she uttered, “Ego sim nequam.”
I am not worthless. Doubtless the blockhead won’t understand Latin.
One of Mr. Chapman’s friends inclined his head to Mr. Marcellus. “Apologies, sir. We weren’t aware of your connection to the lady. I’ll ensure that Chapman won’t be bothering either of you again tonight.”
“You have my thanks,” he said.
They pulled Mr. Chapman out of the room.
Mr. Marcellus offered Helen his arm, clearing his throat. “Miss Davenport, I’ve come to claim you for our set.”
She accepted his arm, itching to be as far away from the scene of the incident as possible.
“Are you well, Miss Davenport?” he asked in a low tone.
“I am fine. You have my thanks for defending me, sir.” Her tone came out clipped.
“You are angry with me,” he said, his turquoise eyes gleaming with regret. “I’m sorry I have arrived so late. My horse threw a shoe on the way to the ball. I misjudged how long it would take to find another mount.”
“I’m cross, but I am angrier still with myself for lacking the courage to speak up against my former suitor.” She kept her voice tight, willing herself to breathe and not let her emotions overcome her.
She closed her eyes, counted to five, and breathed deeply. When she opened them, she upturned the corners of her lips. “I will not let the encounter with Mr. Chapman spoil my evening. I am here for the explicit purpose of learning if we might suit as a couple.”
Mr. Marcellus’s face brightened. Helen soaked in the dimples that appeared on his face as he smiled. Was it healthy for her to already be developing affection for how his eyes twinkled?
“Let us dance,” he said.
They took up positions across from one another, their bodies wrapped in a gentle embrace as the musicians took up their instruments. They bowed to one another, and he took her hand. Through the thin fabric of her gloves, she could feel the heat from his hand. It was so much larger than her own. He moved lightly on his feet, cutting an excellent figure.
* * *
Whispers sprung from different areas of the room. Women shot Helen curious glances as she and Mr. Marcellus finished their second set. The cloak of confidence she’d donned earlier was rapidly fraying at the seams.
“For the last four Seasons, I’ve been able to hide in plain sight. I was well practiced in the art of being a wallflower. And now?.?.?.” She shivered.
Mr. Marcellus squeezed her hand in support. “And now you shall be given the attention you rightly deserve. There will be no more hiding, Miss Davenport. You were not born to fit in. You were born to stand out.”
Heat seared her cheeks. “Begging your pardon, sir. I may be a gentlewoman, but I have little to offer by way of beauty. I am as plain as the nose on my face. You must be speaking about one of the other lovely women in the room.”