Minnie pulled her chin back. Darlington was Daring at the club and Jack, as the Earl of Effington, had been called Effing. It was possible that Malice was Malicorn. “I couldn’t say, truthfully.”
“Is he the one over there with the sharp features who is staring at us like a wolf watches sheep?”
Minnie glanced over at Malice. That wasn’t a bad description. He was moving closer, his gaze unwavering. “Could be.”
“I’ll dispose of him for you. Worry not.” Then she leaned in closer. “I’m having a soiree later this week. Watch for my invitation.”
“Forgive me,” Minnie said as she stared at the woman. “But who will the invitation be from?”
The other woman trilled a laugh. “How silly of me. I’m the Countess of Abernath. Pleased to meet you, Miss Minerva Chase.”
Minnie sucked in her breath. Grace grabbed her shoulder and Cordelia took a step back. The countess had told Emily about the club to begin with. Minnie didn’t know why but she was sure this woman was set upon making trouble. “Forgive me, my lady, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to attend.”
The countess quirked a brow. “Don’t be hasty. There will be a great many bachelors there. In fact, The Earl of Winston is most anxious to meet you.” She gave Minnie an encouraging smile. “A fine catch for a woman like yourself.”
“Why are you helping her?” Cordelia squeaked out.
Minnie frowned. She wasn’t sure it was help this woman was offering. She’d nearly destroyed Emily and Jack and she was certain the Countess’s actions had led to the couple eloping. Her eyes narrowed. The hair… Minnie remembered where she’d seen that distinctive shade of pale blonde. Her family’s garden party, which had been the last time Emily and Jack had been seen.
“Like I said. We ladies must stick together, especially when it comes to men of ill intent.” Then the countess tucked her chin, moving closer and dropping her voice. “I once knew Darlington. Stay away from him, if you value your reputation at all. He’ll never offer for you, he’ll only set you to ruin.”
Then the woman whisked off, straight toward M
alice.
She stopped in front of him, intersecting his path toward them. Minnie couldn’t hear a word but she watched Malice’s face change. He went from his usual dark stare to his features turning absolutely black even as he straightened away from the countess. Then, without a word, he turned and headed for the door.
The countess spun back toward them and sashayed to where they stood. “See ladies? I’ve taken care of that vexing problem for you.”
“What did you say?” Grace squeaked out from behind Minnie.
Minnie tried not to huff at her cousin. Grace had always been delicate.
“I simply told him that I’d already warned you of his rakish tendencies and he needn’t bother to approach. You wouldn’t see him.”
Minnie remained silent, but she doubted very much that’s what the countess had said. The only person to confirm or deny that, however, would be the Marquess of Malicorn. Somehow, finding out the countess’s motives would help her discover what had happened between Emily and Jack. She needed to find out what had been said and only one man could tell her where to find Malicorn. Tag…
Tag sat in front of a roaring fire in his study, sipping a snifter of scotch. The burning liquid was doing little to extinguish the feeling he’d made a terrible mistake. He’d said goodbye to Minnie.
Though the words had been the same as any other parting, they’d both understood that they had no reason to see each other again.
Except, as the last two days had passed, he’d thought of a reason. He missed her. Truly and deeply he craved her company, the banter, the tension, the way wisps of her hair loosened from her coifs. He longed for the press of her lips when she was about to deliver one of her perfectly aimed barbs and the flush of her cheeks when she drew near him.
Bloody hell, he raked his fingers through his hair, setting his glass down with so much force, liquid sloshed over his hand. He’d told himself for years now that he’d never marry a woman like his mother, or like Cristina. He’d find a docile miss and mold her into the wife he wanted.
The more he thought about it, the worse that idea sounded. He watched the flames dance as he reasoned out the whys of it. First, his mother had never loved his father. Though she’d pretended at the beginning, she’d married him for his status. He’d surmised that much from the fights he’d overheard. And Cristina, he could only assume that she’d also been motivated by station and finances when she’d accepted his proposal. Why else would she have a lover while ensnaring a duke?
But that only made him grimace. Minnie hadn’t been subtle. She was in the market for a husband. And that had kept him away. But there were other traits that pulled him dangerously close.
Cristina would never have cradled him in her lap the way Minnie had. In fact, neither would his mother. She’d responded to his childhood illnesses and injuries with mild distaste, or even, on a few occasions, severe displeasure. When he’d broken his arm falling from a tree at the age of eight, she’d told him that’s what he got for being so foolish and then left for London for the six weeks the injury had healed.
“She’s a hard woman,” his father had consoled.
Minnie would never mistreat her family. She’d protect her loved ones with everything she had. He thought of the way she’d defended Emily on the first night they’d met. The way she was marrying for Ada’s sake.
And the way she’d held him while he was in bed injured. She didn’t expect him to marry her but she’d wanted to touch him…hadn’t she?
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” the butler called from the doorway. “The Marquess of Malicorn is here to see you.”