My Wicked Marquess by Gaelen Foley Page B

her gently under her chin. She caught her breath sharply as he tilted her face upward again and looked into her eyes.
    â€œI know what you thought,” he repeated, “but, I can assure you, you were mistaken.”
    â€œWas I?” Her heart pounded at the light but sure pressure of his warm fingertips against her skin.
    â€œVery. I should never wish to be the cause of your distress, Miss Starling.”
    â€œWhat did Albert say to you about me?” she blurted out in a hushed tone, struggling to form a clear thought against the magic of his touch.
    He smiled and lowered his hand to his side once more. “Better you should ask what I said to him about you.”
    She shot him a wary look of question.
    He shrugged with a nonchalant smile. “I simply let him know that he can either mind his tongue or lose it.”
    Her eyes widened. “You threatened him?”
    He sighed regretfully, folding his hands behind his back. “I’m fairly sure that’s why he left the party. Pity, no?”
    Daphne stared at him, her astonishment bordering on laughter. Well! I was right from the outset. He is a lunatic.
    â€œYou look surprised.”
    â€œI thought you were his friend!”
    He looked away with a low laugh. “Not exactly.”
    She shook her head in wonder, trying to make sense of it all. “How do you know him?”
    â€œHe grew up near me when we were boys in Worcestershire.”
    â€œI see…” It was hard to imagine the tall, formidable man before her as a boy.
    â€œMiss Starling, I could never let any man insult you in my presence. Rest assured of that.”
    â€œOh,” she whispered, trembling at his chivalrous vow.
    It dawned on her that she was making a cake of herself, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her wits were somewhat routed by their exchange so far. Oh, but she was relieved to hear he had not been making sport of her, or even toleratingAlbert’s rudeness. On the contrary, the magnificent hellion had defended her.
    She beamed. Daphne suddenly found herself growing desperate for a proper introduction. He was a positively thrilling man!
    Eager to get that formal step out of the way, she cast about for some means to nudge the marquess into telling her his name. Yes, of course, she already knew it, but just now it seemed too forward, rude, and gossipy to admit that she had heard it while eavesdropping on his conversation with Albert.
    â€œWell, I barely know what to say!” she exclaimed, trying to sound like the blithe Society coquette she could be when the need arose. “Two rescues in twenty-four hours, and I don’t even know your name!”
    Again, the eyebrow lifted. Perhaps she should have read it as a warning. “Shall I reveal it to you, or do you prefer the mystery to continue?” he asked dryly.
    Oh, dear . The cynical tone of his voice instantly made her wonder if he could somehow tell that she was lying.
    â€œWhy, that’s an odd question,” she evaded with a quick, uneasy smile, opting to be vague.
    He sighed and gazed toward the ceiling. “Yes, it’s just that once you realize who I am,” he mused aloud, “you may run from me. And that would make me sad.” He looked at her again, intently, his pale green eyes keen and searching beneath the coal-black fringe of his short lashes.
    Trapped in his stare with the strange sense that he could almost read her mind, Daphne was still unsure if he saw through her amateur deception.
    Unfortunately, having started down this path, she saw no choice but to carry it through. She waved her fan faster, and kept smiling, though her cheeks were beginning to hurt. “Well, you can do as you please, I’m sure! I think you’ve earned that right. On the other hand,” she countered with a coy flutter of her lashes, “I can’t dance with you if I don’t know your name, now, can I?”
    â€œBut my dear Miss Starling, I