Helen was delighted to see him. She chatted, drawing his attention to three separate experienced ladies who were attending that night. "They'd each and every one be delighted to make your acquaintance."
She glanced at him, one brow raised. Martin barely glanced at the ladies in question. "Not tonight."
Helen sighed. "I don't know whether to applaud or pout-your reticence only heightens their interest, as you well know, but continued refusals to engage… well, it does call into question my ability to deliver."
"You always deliver in the end, my dear, as I'm quite sure your ladies know. But tonight they'll have to make do with someone else's talents. I…"-Martin considered Amanda, a golden angel dispensing smiles and laughter upon her captives-"have other fish to fry."
He looked at Helen before, intrigued, she could follow his gaze. "And no, you needn't wonder. I suspect the role I'm scripted to play is that of knight-protector, not demon lover."
"How fascinating." Helen opened her eyes wide, then smiled. "Very well. You have my permission to dispense your favors as you wish-not that you'd listen to any edicts otherwise. But beware!" She slanted him an arch glance as she turned to greet another guest. "You know what they say of rakehells visited by a sudden urge to reform."
He didn't know and didn't need to. The warning faded from his mind as he ambled through the crowd, ostensibly looking the ladies over, in truth watching just one.
She hadn't seen him, or so it appeared; he'd yet to see her gaze turn his way and she'd given no sign of recognition. She continued to engage the three others and Carmarthen, although he was looking more worried than entranced.
Martin had to admit she was a dab hand at entrancing. Her smiles, her laughter-which he couldn't hear but wished he could-the lively chatter, the gaiety dancing in her eyes, all served to project the persona of a confident young lady brimming with sparkling, bubbling charm. Indeed, she reminded him of the very best champagne, fine wine subtly effervescent, deepened by just the right touch of age to the point where it promised liquid gold on the tongue and glory to the senses.
He couldn't tell if she knew he was present. Couldn't tell if his suspicion that her current situation had been staged with him specifically in mind owed more to his arrogance than reality.
His prowl carried him beyond her line of sight. The crowd between them thinned; he could see her clearly, yet she didn't turn his way. Instead, she laughed-light, airy, a sound both joyous and earthy, it carried to him. Caressed him, enticed him, as it did the other men before her.
It didn't matter if she'd schemed to capture his attention. She had it.
Amanda felt him approach; like a storm sweeping in, his very nearness had her tensing. The sensation unnerved her; she fought not to whirl and face what her senses screamed was danger-if she did, she'd give her game away. Then he halted beside her, his towering figure excuse enough for her to break off her tale and glance his way.
She let recognition flow across her face, let pleasure light her eyes. No difficulty there-he looked even more sinfully handsome in full light, in more formal attire than he'd worn the previous night. She smiled and held out her hand. "My lord."
Brazenly, she left it at that-let him, and the others, make of it what they would. He took her hand and she curtsied. He raised her; eyes on hers, he inclined his head. "Miss Cynster."
Her smile ingenuous, she struggled to keep her fingers from fluttering in his, too wise to attempt to retrieve her hand until he deigned to let her go.
He released her; she drew in a quick breath and launched into the introductions. "And I believe you'll remember Mr. Carmarthen."
"Indeed."
Reggie favored him with a wary look and a polite nod. Dexter's gaze lingered on Reggie's face, then he turned it, smoothly, on her. "I admit to surprise at encountering you here. I thought, after your most recent foray into such realms, caution would… how does that saying go?… overcome valor?"
He's here! He's here! And he took the bait! Her eyes locked on his, Amanda ruthlessly cut off the delirious litany; he might be here, but he wasn't yet snared. And if she wasn't careful, she might be the one in a coil.
As if pleased he'd remembered their last meeting, she smiled. "I did toy with the notion of attending Lady Sutcliffe's ball, yet"-she swept her smile over her three now earnest would-be cavaliers-"formal engagements do pall when one has spent so many years in the ballrooms." She glanced again at Dexter. "It seems a waste not to avail oneself of the more varied divertissements offered by such as her ladyship. So much more entertaining. I daresay you find it so yourself?"
Martin held her gaze and debated whether to call her bluff. "My tastes, admittedly, lie somewhat beyond the diversions provided by the ton's hostesses. However, I wouldn't have imagined such esoteric distractions would hold much allure for a young lady such as you." Her chin lifted, her eyes sparkled, with challenge, with humor. "On the contrary, my lord. I've a definite taste for wilder pastimes." Her smile confiding, she briefly touched his sleeve. "I daresay you haven't heard, living retired as you do."
"Wilder pastimes, heh?" Cranbourne grabbed the opening. "Heard a tale of wild doings at Mrs. Croxton's last night."
"Indeed?" Amanda turned to Cranbourne.
Martin watched as she encouraged all three gentlemen to dazzle her with their wildest suggestions. He might live "retired" but he knew what he was seeing. Carmarthen was growing increasingly nervous. Yet if he, Dexter, bowed and walked away, would she continue on this path? If he declined to be her protector, would she go on without one? What sort of net was she weaving-how much was true, how much for his confusion?
Not that it mattered; he was more than capable of dealing with her whatever tack she took. And she clearly needed someone to watch over her, someone with more muscle than dear Reggie.
Cranbourne, Fitzgibbon and Walter were intent; given how long she'd spent allowing them to entertain her, they'd expect her shortly to choose from among them. And contrary to what she was expecting, accustomed as she was to the rules pertaining in ballroom and drawing room, a charming dismissal would not be well received.
Reaching out, he took her hand; surprised, she glanced his way, throwing Walter, concluding some tale, off his stride. "My dear, I promised Helen-Lady Hennessey-that, given this is your first visit, I would make sure you became acquainted with all she has to offer." He looked into Amanda's blue eyes as he placed her hand on his sleeve. "It's time we strolled on, or you'll never see all before dawn." He glanced at Walter, Cranbourne and Fitzgibbon. "I'm sure these gentlemen will excuse you."
They had little choice; none was game to challenge one of Helen's edicts, a fact Martin had counted on. The three made their adieus, then withdrew. Martin considered Reggie. "I believe Miss Cynster would like another glass of champagne."
Reggie looked at Amanda.