Never Trust a Rake. ANNIE BURROWS

there was nothing further she could do. Has she already exacted some form of revenge? Damn! I had not thought she would move so swiftly.’

      ‘No. You do not understand …’

      And he would not understand if she explained it, not a man like him. He might say he would be her ally, but this was the same man who’d just told her he could stand back and watch a woman commit social suicide rather than do the gentlemanly thing.

      ‘Please, just accept the fact that there is nothing Miss Waverley can do that she has not already done. And I thank you for your concern, but I assure you that there is no need to prolong this … excursion.’

      They were just approaching the turn before the exit.

      Before they’d set out Lord Deben had decided to spare Miss Gibson only as much of his time as it would take to express his thanks, deliver the warning and offer his assistance. He’d assumed it would take him no longer than it would take to drive her just the once round the ring.

      But instead of steering his vehicle through the gate, he commenced another circuit.

      He was the one who would decide when this excursion was at an end, not the impudent, ungrateful … unfathomable Miss Gibson.

       Chapter Four

      ‘You went straight home that night,’ he drawled, refusing to let her guess he could be motivated by anything more than mild curiosity. ‘You have not shown your face at any of the events attended by the set of which she thinks herself the queen. Therefore, whatever she did, she did before you came to my rescue on the terrace.’

      Queen? Oh, yes, that described Miss Waverley’s attitude exactly. Henrietta had only observed her that one evening, but she had certainly regarded male homage as her due. And she seemed to have susceptible, country-born boys like Richard queuing up to pay it.

      Her mouth twisted into a moue of disgust.

      ‘Aha! I have hit the nail on the head. Pray do not bother to deny it. It was something Miss Waverley did that sent you outside to cry that night.’

      She had never seen such a cynical smile as the one which curled his lordship’s lips.

      ‘And when you saw your chance to thrust a spoke in her wheel,’ he said, his upper lip curling with contempt, ‘you took it.’

      She was just about to deny having done any such thing, when she recalled what she had thought, earlier, about her not wishing to let Miss Waverley get her claws into another poor, unsuspecting man.

      She sat back, a frown pleating her brow. Had she really put a stop to Miss Waverley’s attempt to compromise Lord Deben out of jealousy and spite? She was appalled to think she could act from such base motives.

      Shaken, she attempted to replay the scene, with another woman in the place of Miss Waverley.

      It was hard to be completely objective, because she had not been thinking, so much as reacting to events that night. On first recognising Miss Waverley, she had wondered why she had not noticed the music had ceased, for her presence outside must mean her dance with Richard was ended. And her eyes had then flown to the door through which she’d come, in horror. Surely she’d suffered enough for one night! She could not bear it if Richard were to follow Miss Waverley on to the terrace and she had to witness a nauseating display of lovemaking between them.

      By the time she’d realised that nobody had followed Miss Waverley outside, the brazen hussy had already sidled up to Lord Deben and was trying to get him to respond to her.

      With about as much success as she’d had with Richard. The man was just not interested. In fact, he had looked as though he was finding Miss Waverley’s persistent attempts to interest him repellent. She had felt like cheering when he had reproved her for her behaviour.

      Then, when the door had burst open and Miss Waverley’s mama had come out a split second after the girl had flung herself into Lord Deben’s arms, she had felt as angry as the earl had looked and had reacted on instinct. All her resentments had come to the boil and ejected her from her hiding place in a spume of righteous indignation.

      ‘You are quite wrong about me.’ For a moment, he had made her doubt herself. But, having carefully examined her motives, she had made a reassuring discovery.

      ‘I would have acted the same, had I come across any woman attempting to trap a man into marriage, in such a beastly, underhanded way as that,’ she said hotly. ‘It was deplorable!’

      He glanced at her keenly.

      ‘I note that you do not deny that you were crying because of something she had done, though.’

      How annoying of him to read her so well. And to look at her as though not only was she an open book, but also one that he found fairly contemptible. She drew herself up and attempted to look back at him with a level of contempt to match.

      ‘I knew it,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘What did she do, steal away the man with whom you fancied yourself in love?’

      Lord Deben was beyond annoying. He was hateful. She had known, from the sneer that was never far from his mouth, that he would mock anyone foolish enough to suffer from the softer emotions.

      ‘F-fancied myself in love?’ She tossed her head and attempted a laugh. ‘Do not be ridiculous.’

      The smile that lifted the corners of his mouth now was positively triumphant.

      ‘I am not the one being ridiculous here.’ He eyed her nodding ostrich plumes with open amusement. ‘Though perhaps you can take consolation from the fact that a lot of girls of your age have their heads stuffed full of romantic nonsense,’ he said patronisingly.

      ‘My head is not—’

      But he continued, regardless. ‘And I knew, five seconds after becoming acquainted with Miss Waverley, that she is used to having men fall at her feet.’

      Yes, thought Henrietta gloomily. While her own head was stuffed full of romantic nonsense about ancient Greek heroes, the beautiful Miss Waverley was cutting a swathe through real-life, modern men.

      She looked away from the mockery in Lord Deben’s lazy brown eyes.

      ‘She is welcome to them all,’ she replied, her voice quivering with emotion. ‘If a man can’t see beyond her beautiful face, then they are idiots. A man who can be taken in by a cat like that is not the kind of man I would ever want to … well …’ her voice faded to a whisper ‘… marry.’

      ‘You should not,’ he said firmly. ‘Any man who can so easily switch his affections from you to a scheming jade like that is not worthy of your regard.’

      She supposed he was trying to make her feel better, but his words only reminded her that she had never been certain of Richard’s feelings towards her. He had never given her any indication he was interested in her, other than as his best friend’s sister, until the previous Christmas, when he had grabbed hold of her, tugged her underneath a bunch of mistletoe and kissed her very thoroughly.

      All her daydreams about him had stemmed from that one, surprising interlude. Before then she had never considered him as much more than Hubert’s impossibly handsome friend.

      After that … She shrank down inside her furs in the faint hope they could somehow shield her from Lord Deben’s penetrating gaze. After that, when he had not followed up on what she had seen as a declaration of intent, she had shamelessly pursued him, that was what she had done.

      Well, that was all behind her now. She was not going to waste any more time over a man who was too stupid to see what was right under his nose. There was plenty to keep her amused in London: lectures, exhibitions and all sorts of interesting people to converse with. People with good brains, who put them to practical use in the world of commerce, rather than idly frittering away their inherited fortunes on frivolous pastimes.

      But she couldn’t help sighing.