Without thought, she squeezed Blake’s arm tighter, moving closer to him. Why was she afraid of Walter and when had Blake become her safe place?
“Who is he?” Blake’s voice dropped low, a rumble making the sound gravelly.
She swallowed, then licked her lips. “He is a friend of the family.”
“That isn’t the entire story.” Vice shifted, standing between her and Walter. “You can tell me.”
She shook her head. “I lied to you the other day.”
“I beg your pardon,” he said as he slowly moved them to the side, out of the crowd and away from her family.
“When I told you that I was a ruiner of rakes,” she dropped her head. “I lied.”
A gust of cooler air touched her skin and she realized they were making their way toward the veranda.
“That doesn’t matter.” He caressed her back with his fingertips. “Tell me more about your family friend.”
She brushed her cheek against his arm. Somehow touching him gave her strength. “The only man who’s ever shown interest in me is a biological researcher. He left six months ago for a trip to Africa and he told me not to wait for him.”
“Was that man staring at you your researcher?” Vice’s teeth were clenched making his words clipped but he stopped just outside the doors, in clear view of the rest of the party.
She nodded. “He wasn’t supposed to come back.”
“Why did he?” Vice asked, shifting her once again so that she couldn’t be seen by the crowd.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” She shook her head, looking up into his eyes. “I didn’t know he’d returned.” She placed her hands on his chest, tucking closer. “The odd thing is that I’m not certain I want to know either. I…” Even last week, she’d considered Walter the man who had slipped through her fingers. The best she’d ever do. Now she didn’t even want to speak with him.
Vice relaxed under her hands. “I would be happy to assist in any way necessary.”
She nodded. Why didn’t she wish to talk with Walter? He’d hurt her, that was clear. But somehow the ache was gone.
And he’d returned. Was it because of her? What if it was? She’d just amended to practice her feminine wiles. If nothing else, couldn’t she try them on Walter?
But the idea filled her mouth with bile. And she realized she no longer had any feelings for him. Whatever had been between them was gone. “I don’t need any assistance, but thank you, Lord Viceroy.” She straightened her spine. “But I’d better return to my family. We wouldn’t want to cause any more trouble this evening.”
He frowned down at her before giving a quick nod and then pulled her back into the crowd. Her family was almost exactly where they’d left them and the crush of partygoers had disguised their brief disappearance, or at least, Ada hoped it had. As they rejoined her family, the group slowly made its way to the opposite end of the ballroom where they found a small space and a few empty chairs.
Vice had gone silent but he remained at her side, her hand tucked in his elbow. For Ada’s part, she was lost in thought and happy for the pillar of strength currently holding her aloft in the crowd.
Did she go speak to Walter, pretend he wasn’t there? Inhaling deeply, she drew in Blake’s rich scent. It was comforting and exciting and she found herself brushing her cheek against him once again.
He leaned his head down, his chin brushing the top of her head. Ada’s eyes fluttered closed. “I wish I could just leave. I don’t want to be here.”
Blake smiled against the top of her head. “Me too.”
“I’m interrupting,” another man said from next to her. She left her eyes closed. Walter. Her stomach twisted and she moved closer to Vice, drawing in Vice’s scent, the feel of his heat next to hers.
Slowly, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. Part of her wished to say yes he was interrupting, but she’d been raised to be polite. “Of course not, Mr. Conroy.” She looked at Vice, whose face had gone hard. “May I introduce you to Lord Viceroy.”
Walter gave a quick jerk of his chin. “My lord.”
“Mr. Conroy,” Vice replied, his voice hard and flat. Ada, without thinking, gave his arm another squeeze. Touching him calmed her. Soothed her jagged nerves.
Blake looked down, his eyes crinkling in a question. Then he glanced up again. “I’d ask how you and Miss Chase know one another but she’s told me about you already. The question now is why are you back in England?”
Walter straightened. “I have unfinished business here,” he answered. Then he stepped closer. “Miss Chase, may I ask for a dance?”
Ada looked to Vice, whose face had turned to granite once again. His jaw was tense and a muscle jumped in his temple. She had no grounds, however, to refuse. “Of course.”