Page 91 of Scandalous

Her eyes drifted back to Martín. Even from across the ballroom he radiated an irresistible magnetism. He was attired like every other man in the room, but his sun-kissed skin made him glow. He looked positively . . . edible. She flushed at the inappropriate thought and greeted the next person in line, a spotty young buck sporting an unfortunate yellow and blue waistcoat.

Dinner had been both strained and far too long. The Marquess of Exley spoke very little, and, when he did, the meaning behind his words was often obscure.

The Marquis d’Armand, on the other hand, was an engaging dinner partner as well as being both elegant and handsome. So elegant, in fact, that his sophisticated manner made Sarah want to run from the room. So, too, did the frequent and heated glances she intercepted from Martín—who’d been seated as far as he could be from her.

Sarah wanted to kick herself for not requesting that Aunt Anna seat him beside her in spite of her ridiculous notions of precedence. It was Sarah’s party. Shouldn’t she have some say in where her guests sat?

She pulled her eyes away from the object of her obsession and turned back to the endless line.

* * *

Martín returned his giggling dance partner to her clique of gigglers and made his way back to where Ramsay and Exley stood.

Ramsay grinned at him. “There, that wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it?” He was referring to the dance Martín had just completed with the mindless little idiot Ramsay had foisted upon him.

“I see you are denying yourself the same pleasure, my lord.”

Ramsay chuckled, and even Exley smiled.

“That goes for both of you,” Martín added before turning to search for Sarah in the crowd. She was dancing with Danforth. Well, at least she wasn’t dancing with d’Armand.

“Fortunately for me, no mother would allow me within a league of her daughter,” Exley said, surveying the ballroom as if it represented the manifestation of his worst nightmare.

Martín snorted. “I no longer believe you, Exley. They are all too willing to thrust their daughters into the arms of a man of dubious background and questionable reputation.”

“Cultivate a reputation as a murderer,” Exley suggested, giving Martín his habitual icy stare.

Before Martín could formulate an appropriate response, Lady Ramsay and Lady Exley returned.

“Adam, have you not danced with anyone? Why must you and Hugh behave like such dolts?”

“Which of your questions should I answer first, my dear?” Exley asked. He met his wife’s glare and sighed. “Will you do me the honor, Lady Ramsay?”

The baroness laid her hand on his arm, and the attractive pair went to take their places on the dance floor.

“Would you care to dance, Mia?” Ramsay asked.

Lady Exley looked up over a foot and a half to meet the baron’s single green eye. “Good Lord, Hugh, what a stupid-looking couple we would make. Besides, I’m exhausted after only three dances. I expect it is due to my condition.”

“Condition?” Martín repeated, and then closed his eyes at his own stupidity. “Er, please accept my congratulations, my lady.”

“I believe I have embarrassed you, Captain Bouchard.” The marchioness grabbed his arm and stood on tiptoe to peer into his face. “Is that lovely face of yours blushing?”

His ears grew even warmer.

Ramsay’s laugh was audible even over the orchestra. “Good gad, you’re a menace, Mia. Exley must be made of stone.”

“Parts of him are.”

Martín shook his head at their raucous laughter; the two never stopped talking.

He tapped his foot and looked at his watch. He would dance with Sarah and then leave directly afterward. He needed to get away and consider the problem of d’Armand. He would have gone already but for the promised dance. As it was, he had to endure another quarter of an hour of Ramsay’s teasing before the time came.

“Are you enjoying your birthday, mademoiselle?” Martín asked after they’d danced a quarter of the floor, his words abrupt to his own ears.

Sarah was light in his arms, her dancing much more smooth than it had been the first—and only—time they had waltzed.

“Everyone has been very good to me.” Her smile was shy and un-Sarah-like. “I wanted to thank you for the lovely gift. I began reading it immediately.”