Page 66 of The Forsaken

Understanding hit husband and wife at the same time, in the form of matching ‘ah’s’.

At bloody last.

“Kilmartin is loyal to the McQuoids,” Lady Culross said, sounding bizarrely regretful. Her inflection declared the matter done.

Kerr barely restrained the violent urge to flip chairs and smash champagne flutes.

He put his sights on the man who’d previously had flawless judgment when it came to rivals. “Culross?”

The earl looked between best friend and wife, like he was traversing quicksand, which, given the mercurial nature of women, Kerr appreciated the other man was, in fact.

Kilmartin drew Andromena in closer, lowered his mouth to her temple, and whispered some manner of wickedness in her ear.

Her cheeks already enchantingly flushed from dancing grew several shades brighter. Andromena laughed; her happiness lifted above the whine of violins and cellos and humming of quiet whispers of hundreds of guests; the timbre, clear as bells. Her mirth wasn’t the practiced tittering, but bold and unrestrained as the siren herself.

By God, what in thunderation was the chit thinking; not laying him flat on the mahogany floor?

This was really enough.

“Here.” Kerr shoved his glass into Culross’s spare hand. “If none of you have the sense to save the lady from herself, I’ll be the one to do so.”

Pushing past twirling dance partners, Kerr cut a quick path back to the ballroom. Whispers naturally followed him. He cared even less now than he ever had. His narrow-eyed gaze stayed centered on the blitheful pair.

So it happened that Kerr came to be standing in the path of the offending couple.

“I am cutting in,” Kerr said bluntly. He reserved his death stare for Kilmartin.

Kilmartin looked incredibly bored by both the interruption and Kerr’s presence.

Kerr tightened his jaw. Worse, the bloody bastard turned to Andromena as if to say; ‘how should we dispense of this nuisance?’

“You cannot…just cut in,” Andromena said while couples swirled and twirled all around them.

Kerr froze in the center of the ballroom, his voice still echoing with a demand for London’s newest Diamond. The crowd’s quiet hum locked into focus, spelling out the public rejection waiting the second Andromena chose the other man. She looked from Kerr to Kilmartin. Cold sweat broke across Kerr’s palms, slicking his skin. He had not felt this helpless sting since Eton, and the present vanished into that old, familiar hell.

“Lord Kilmartin, please excuse me. I need to finish our dance with Lord Kerr.”—A cold heavy weight lifted from his chest. “The viscount feels very badly for the intrusion.” She gave Kerr a sharp, hard look. “Isn’t that, right?”

Kerr didn’t blink. “No.” He stepped in close. “Get the hell out, Kilmartin.”

The amused captain bowed over Andromena’s hand and said, “I look forward to our dancing the dinner set.”

The notorious Corinthian had not only reserved a second set; he’d chosen the one that paired him with the lady for dinner.

“I am very much looking forward to it,” she said, favoring the other privateer with a dazzling smile.

Kerr’s nostrils flared.

The moment Kilmartin retreated, and Kerr had her in his arms for the same ridiculous turns, her frown naturally returned.

“Edgar,” she whispered furiously. “What are you doing? You’ve caused a stir.”

“I have?” he grated out from between his teeth. “And not you by letting that blackguard put his hands all over you.”

Fierce light flashed in her eyes. “Letting him…?” She dug her heels in, bringing them to an awkward stumble. “It is a blasted dance. It requires touching and holding and—”

Growling, he hauled her back into motion. Kilmartin hadn’t hauled—he hadn’t needed to. She’d gone willingly, her dimpled, smiling face burning behind his eyelids. Happily, he thought, with a boyish surge of rage. She’d spun and undulated in Kilmartin’s arms with that same bright, infuriating joy.

“We were dancing a proper set, until your unrefined arrival.”