Seeing his expensive clothing, she realized he must have been invited to the ball. “Most likely in the same manner you were able to obtain an invitation...it is all in who you know.” A shiver of apprehension trickled down her spine. She couldn’t show her nervousness around him. Engleton was a man who fed on others’ fear and what he could expose would ruin her and her family forever amongst the ton.
“Well, I hear you married for it while I inherited my position,” he said with a smug grin. “Can you imagine a man such meself, now a baron.”
She tilted her head and smiled. “Congratulations. I had no idea you were related to a baron.”
“Me neither. Some old bloke of a cousin died off and I’m his only living relative. Ain’t that something. Excuse me, isn’t that something.” His cheeks reddened. “I have a tutor now to teach me how to speak all proper. The old baron’s wife insisted.”
“She is correct. Improper speech will give you away.”
“Well,” he drawled, “now that I’m in London and you’re here and we’re both unmarried, maybe we should—”
“I am sorry,” she said quickly to stop him. “I am being courted by another man.”
“Oh.” He waggled his thick blonde brows at her. “Still, you are a widow and if you get lonely, you know—”
“I believe she already said she was being courted,” a low voice said behind Engleton.
Thank God. Tessa leaned slightly to see Jack scowling at the man blocking his path to her. “Darling, did you remember the glass of wine.”
“It appears you have already had enough wine for tonight,” Jack said roughly. “And I think your friend should go back to the ball now.”
“Of course,” the new baron said quickly before giving her a quick bow and then running off.
Oh God, how much of their conversation had Jack heard? “No wine?”
“No.” He put his hand out to the tree next to her and leaned in closer. “Now, would you like to explain how the daughter of a London banker knows a man of that ilk?”
CHAPTER 13
“I might need quite a bit more wine for that story,” Tessa whispered before worrying her full lower lip.
Jack clenched his fists, trying to keep his frustration under control. Nothing about her or this case made sense. What did Cornwall have to do with this case? First the solicitor and now this boorish man. How was the daughter of a London banker connected to Cornwall?
“We shall have some wine at my home.” He pulled her out of the bench and almost into his arms. That was the last place he wanted her now. He needed answers.
“Your home? But...”
“Not another word,” he said in a low tone. “I am not going to the Cursed Countess’s home tonight. I want to know that I shall be alive come morning.”
Her face went as pallid as the full moon in the sky. “I cannot believe you said that to me.”
“And I cannot believe you lied to me.”
“I never lied about where I grew up. You never asked, just assuming I was from London.”
He pulled her along until they reached the terrace. “You are going to leave peacefully with me, do you understand?”
“And if I don’t?”
He smiled down at her until she looked away. “I shall carry you out of that room and everyone will believe you are my mistress.”
She nodded slightly. “As you wish.”
“Much better.”
They walked along the outskirts of the dance floor, slowly making their way toward the entrance. Once they arrived in the entry way, he turned to a footman and said, “Tell Lady Stanhope’s driver that she is not feeling well and I shall escort her home. And please call for my carriage.”
“Of course, sir.” The footman spoke quietly to a young man before saying, “There is quite a crush, this may take a few moments, Mr. Raynerson.”