Baron of Blasphemy (Lords of Scandal 12)

“Shouldn’t you ask if I’m available first?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “You wouldn’t be standing here if you weren’t and I thought you might like a break from talking with your sisters or listening to…” And he glanced over at the group of whispering women who’d moved further away but hadn’t moved on. Now they were just gossiping about her from a distance.

She blinked, realizing he’d been attempting to be kind. She stepped closer then, ready to accept his invitation when she caught his scent. He smelled…wonderful. Rich and deep like the forest after a rain. She drew in a deep breath even as she nodded her assent.

Rather than offer his elbow, h

e placed a hand at her back. It was a clear sign of possession, a statement, and she heard the click of several fans as they opened and began to flutter. She knew he’d set tongues wagging behind those fans with his gesture, but she didn’t care.

The strength of his hand seeped into her back as they moved away, and she didn’t look behind her.

As he swept her onto the floor, he held her in a firm grip that made her sigh with relief. He’d been right. Here she was farther from the rumors and her sister’s irritation. The music started and with strong, sure steps, he began to spin her about the room.

* * *

Chad stared down at Abigail in surprise. He’d expected her to fight him. Instead, she followed his lead with an effortless grace as she moved closer, creating an intimacy between them that made his chest rumble with possessive need.

Her head tilted back, and her gaze met his, holding his stare as they waltzed.

He hated dancing as a general rule and had only asked to diffuse the escalating situation between the Carrington sisters.

With clarity, he saw the problem. Eliza and Abigail had matching wills and strength, but Eliza had the superior age and status as a married woman. A power she wielded over her younger sister with brute strength.

Abigail chafed and it was a position he understood well.

His older brother had been relentless too.

Unlike his brother, Eliza seemed to act out of love. He’d seen the marchioness protect her sister, something his brother would never have done. But she also liberally told Abigail what was best, and Abigail hated the treatment.

“Thank you,” she murmured as they moved. “I needed a break from…” she hesitated, looking up at the chandeliers hanging above.

He cocked a brow. “Wagging tongues or overbearing siblings?”

“You saw all of that, did you?” Her gaze snapped back to his.

He shrugged. “I see plenty where you are concerned. You’re the only reason I am here.”

Her eyes widened even as she appraised him. They continued to dance, silence falling between them again. But she nibbled at her lip until finally she spoke again. “You came for me?”

He nodded, drawing her just a touch closer. “For our match.”

She stiffened underneath his touch. “Our match. Of course.”

He knew that had been the wrong thing to say. Because he wanted the match not for her but for himself. He’d already admitted his needs, not hers, motivated him. Otherwise, he’d have stayed home or gone to the gaming hell. He avoided society for a reason. Not only did he not like the ton or dealing with society’s snobby elite, he wasn’t particularly good at it. “Did you know that I am the second son?”

Her eyes crinkled as she looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

He cleared his throat. “My older brother died three years ago, leaving me to take his place as the Baron of Blackwater.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she answered, her hand giving his biceps a squeeze.

He shrugged. Should he tell her that there had never been any affection between him and his sibling? That he felt guilty for not mourning his brother? He didn’t covet the title, never had. In fact, he wished it was a burden placed on someone else. But shouldn’t a man be sad when his brother was gone? “Thank you. We weren’t close.” He hesitated, assessing her reaction, but she only looked curious. “He was much older than me.”

“How much older?”

“Seven years,” he answered. “He was off to school by the time I was toddling about and by the time he returned to take the title, I was a student at Eton.”

He’d only realized later that his brother was as mean as their father. As a child, he’d imagined his brother being kind and caring and once William came home, they’d unite against the tyrant who ruled them.