The Wickedest Lord Alive by Christina Brooke Page A

those smelling salts.”
    *   *   *
    Xavier had intended to leave the assembly once he conversed privately with Miss Allbright. That was before things had taken a turn for melodrama.
    He did not count Huntley a serious rival. How could he be? Xavier held all the aces in that particular hand. Besides, Lizzie could not possibly be romantically interested in a bore like Mr. Huntley, MP.
    If the damned clod-pole had not manhandled Lizzie like that, Xavier would have enjoyed the ensuing scene.
    He was unprepared for the blinding fury that blazed through him at the sight of Lizzie struggling in Huntley’s arms. It was fortunate the other ladies appeared on the scene before he could reach the pair, or he might have done something infinitely satisfying but regrettable to Lizzie’s attacker.
    He left the fray and returned inside, finding the company sitting down to supper. Lydgate hailed him and he joined his cousin, Miss Beauchamp, and her brother, Tom, at the table.
    Lydgate’s eyes held an unholy light of glee. “Enjoying yourself, old fellow?”
    “Excessively,” said Xavier with a slight yawn.
    “No doubt you’ve heard the news,” said Lydgate.
    “Indeed,” said Xavier. He didn’t wonder how Lydgate had found out. The fellow was like a foxhound on the scent when it came to gossip.
    Miss Beauchamp was clearly laboring under great emotion. She burst out, “You must not refine too much upon tittle-tattle of idle persons, Lord Lydgate. I am certain there has been a mistake.”
    Xavier turned his head to observe Lizzie’s friend more keenly. A pretty little thing. “Indeed? I had the impression the betrothal was in some sort expected.”
    Xavier had not wasted his time at this ball. The squire and his garrulous spouse had been a font of useful information about the denizens of Little Thurston.
    “Yes, but that’s only because—” But Miss Beauchamp broke off, catching her brother’s glare.
    “Hold your tongue, brat,” growled Tom.
    “You don’t know what I was going to say,” said Miss Beauchamp indignantly.
    “I have a fair idea, and let me tell you that won’t help Lizzie now.”
    Tom excused himself rather abruptly from the table and stalked off. Xavier wondered if the boy had more interest in the affair than a mere friend might.
    Xavier would very much like to know what Miss Beauchamp would have said had her more levelheaded brother failed to stop her. The little brunette was worth cultivating, it seemed.
    “That reminds me,” Xavier said, touching a napkin to his lips. “Miss Beauchamp, I wonder if you would honor us—that is, my family—with a visit at Harcourt this summer? It is the Duke of Montford’s principal seat, you know, and I think we might engage to provide you and your aunt with entertainment.”
    “Oh!” said Miss Beauchamp, appearing in equal parts startled and excited. “How kind of you, my lord. Indeed, I shall ask my aunt if I may.”
    Smoothly, Xavier said, “I shall, of course, invite Miss Allbright also.”
    Lydgate clapped his hands together. “That’s dandy. Wonder I didn’t think of it myself. We’ll make a snug little party of it.”
    “A snug little party. At Harcourt?” Xavier tried to picture it and failed. “By all means.”
    The dryness of his tone must have put Miss Beauchamp on the alert. She said, “We should not wish to intrude—”
    “Nonsense,” said Lydgate. “Not a bit of it. My so charming cousin merely sneered at my choice of the word ‘snug.’ Harcourt is rather a vast pile, you see. But never mind all that. You will be most welcome, Miss Beauchamp.”
    While plans were made for the sojourn, Xavier bent his mind to the problem of what to do about this latest turn of events. He was glad Lizzie hadn’t blurted out their prior connection as a means of escaping Huntley but her protests seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Now, everyone believed Huntley and Miss Allbright were betrothed.
    There seemed nothing for it but to allow matters