All laughter and conversation died.
Eva craned her neck to see what had captured the crowd’s attention. What had made them nudge their friends, press their heads together and whisper?
“Ashwood is here.” Mr Cole’s comment almost knocked Eva off her feet.
“Is he?” Her lungs contracted, squeezing out her last breath. Her head spun as her heart plunged to the depths of her stomach. She caught sight of him then—the enigmatic gentleman who sent her giddy.
Heaven help her!
She patted her simple coiffure and brushed her skirts. Would he look upon the sumptuous red gown with admiring eyes? Would that wickedly sinful gaze linger in daring places? Would she see the fleeting infatuation Mr Cole mentioned?
Lady Adair returned. “Mr Ashwood has come to cause a stir, I see. If he’s searching for his uncle, he’ll find Hawkridge in the card room.”
“He’s not here for Hawkridge,” came Mr Cole’s disgruntled mutter. “No doubt the crowd will be disappointed. They enjoy a good show.”
“Well, he seems determined in his cause.” Lady Adair arched a brow, seemingly intrigued. “So determined he forgot to dress in evening attire. As heir presumptive, perhaps he wishes to frighten Hawkridge into an early grave.”
Mr Ashwood was Lord Hawkridge’s heir?
Mr Cole scoffed. “Ashwood hopes his uncle will sire a son before meeting his maker. The last thing my friend wants is a title.”
“I fear his hopes may be dashed,” Lady Adair replied. “Everyone knows Lady Hawkridge is barren.”
Mr Ashwood continued to push through the crowd. All Eva could do was drink in the splendid sight. He was as fearless as his moniker implied. While all the men wore black coats, breeches and buckled shoes, he was dressed in buckskins and Hessians. Eva imagined he would look devastatingly handsome in black. Yet there was something about his defiant air that made him utterly irresistible.
He turned his head in her direction and their gazes locked. A sinful smile formed on his lips as his attention journeyed over her gown. The power of it hit her hard. Heat flooded her cheeks. Blessed saints. Every person in the room must know of her desire for this man. Mr Cole must surely see that she was more than obsessed with the agent who wrote lewd poetry.
But then a pretty woman with vibrant red hair stopped Mr Ashwood in his tracks. The temptress placed her hand on his arm in a way that seemed far too familiar. Jealousy slithered like a serpent in Eva’s chest, its poisonous venom adding to her delirium.
“Please excuse me.” Her words escaped her on a breathless pant. “I—I must visit the retiring room.”
If she could not take control of her heightened emotions, Mr Cole would assume responsibility for her case. The thought of not working closely with Mr Ashwood, of not seeing him again, made her feel sick to her stomach.
“You should not go alone,” Mr Cole said, gesturing for his friend to join them. “Sophia, would you accompany Miss Dunn to the retiring room?”
The lady’s coy smile spoke of mischief. “Certainly. Come, Miss Dunn.” She threaded her arm through Eva’s. “Let us discuss Mr Cole’s bad temper in private.”
As Lady Adair steered her away through the ballroom, Eva didn’t dare steal a glance at Mr Ashwood. There were many excuses she could make for her sudden departure. Based on his appearance, she could say that she presumed he wished to discuss something urgently with Mr Cole. That was if she ever found herself alone with Mr Ashwood again.
The queue to the retiring room stretched the length of the corridor. Lady Adair spent the time probing Eva about Mr Cole. Had he mentioned their fathers were close friends? Had he spoken about his wife, about the woman who died three years ago? Had he expressed a desire to remarry?
Eva explained that she barely knew him and that it was Mr Ashwood with whom she shared an acquaintance. The mere mention of the gentleman’s name caused desire to unfurl like the first petals of spring. The memory of him dabbing rosewater to her neck, of his mouth mo
ving over hers with complete mastery, roused a physical ache.
Oh, this was absurd.
Never had a man taken command of her senses.
In the retiring room, she joined the queue to use a booth. Not because she wished to attend to her ablutions, but she needed a moment alone to catch her breath.
By now, Mr Cole would have spoken of Lord Benham’s deplorable antics at Briden Castle. Mr Ashwood made no secret of his disdain for men who took advantage. Would he go in search of Lord Benham? Would he seek answers? Would he make more shocking claims to prove a point?
A loud knock on the dressing screen made Eva jump.
“Are you all right, Miss Dunn?” Lady Adair’s concerned voice was barely audible amongst the bird-like chatter in the room.
“Yes. Just a moment.” Eva inhaled deeply before straightening her skirts and parting the screen.