On a Wicked Dawn (Cynster 9)

While they waited for the thunder in their ears to subside.

Eventually, he murmured, "I've seen your father, and Devil, too."

Her eyes opened wide. "Both?"

He nodded. "We discussed things…" He touched his lips to hers, savored their warmth, their clinging softness. "We went over all the points that needed to be addressed." Angling his head, he nudged her chin up, and set his lips cruising the sensitive skin beneath her jaw.

"And?"

"And there's nothing — no one — standing in the way of our wedding."

He felt the tension — pure anticipation — tighten her spine.

"They agreed to Wednesday?"

He nodded. "Wednesday." Raising his head, he looked into her bright eyes, then bent his head again. "On Wednesday next, you'll be mine."

Chapter 11

That evening, Amelia and her mother at tended Lady Hogarth's musicale. On the list of social events Luc most hated, musicales ranked at the top. Consequently, he went to dinner with friends, then ambled around to Watier's.

An hour later, inwardly disgusted, he handed his cane to Lady Hogarth's butler. The man bowed, silently indicating the long corridor that led to the music room. Hardly necessary; a pained cauterwauling emanated from that direction. Suppressing a wince, Luc strolled toward the screeching.

Reaching the arched doorway, he paused and reconnoitered; the room was packed with ladies, mostly matrons, some of Amelia's age but few of the younger set. There were other balls on tonight; his mother and sisters had planned to attend two. Lady Hogarth's event had attracted those who considered themselves musical aficionados or who were, like Amelia and Louise, in some way connected.

There were few gentlemen present. Grimly accepting he'd stand out like a crow among seagulls, Luc waited until the soprano was well launched, then strolled nonchalantly to where Amelia was seated along one wall.

She saw him, blinked, but manag

ed not to gawp. Louise, beside her, glanced around to see what had distracted

Amelia; her gaze fell on him — her eyes narrowed.

He'd been a tad late — an hour late to be precise — in returning her daughter that afternoon. Amelia had slipped straight upstairs; he hadn't waited to exchange words with Louise. Her expression stated she had no difficulty guessing precisely what to make of that.

Bowing, first to Louise, then Amelia, he stepped into the space beside Amelia's chair, resting his hand on its back.

And pretended to listen to the music.

He hated sopranos.

Luckily, the recital lasted only another ten minutes. Just long enough for him to fabricate an answer to the fraught question of what had possessed him to appear.

As the applause died, Amelia twisted in her chair and looked up at him. "What…?" Her hand rose to grip his on the chair back.

He'd met her gaze, but her touch distracted him. He looked at their hands, after a frozen instant managed to catch his breath, then smoothly turned his hand, closing his fingers around hers. Beneath his fingertips, the feel of the ring he'd placed on her finger that afternoon elicited a primitive jolt of satisfaction.

"There's no difficulty — no problem." He answered the question he'd seen flaring in her eyes. Meeting them again, he bent closer. "I wanted to warn you I've placed a notice in the Gazette—it'll appear tomorrow morning."

Glancing at the female crowd about them, most only just noticing his presence, knowing the hiatus that had permitted him even this much private speech would continue for mere seconds, he added, "I didn't want you to be taken by surprise when half the ton descends on Brook Street in the morning."

She studied his eyes, then smiled — a natural, artless smile, yet behind it he sensed a lingering trace of that other smile that never failed to tease him.

"I'd assumed you'd do something of the sort, but thank you for the confirmation." She rose, shaking out her turquoise silk gown.

He caught her slipping shawl, draped it over her shoulders. She looked back at him, smiled again — this time, in commiseration. "I'm afraid we're for it."

They were; those who'd attended the Hightham Hall house party had had a whole day to spread their news. Expectations were running high; his appearance tonight had only fanned the flames.