The Wickedest Lord Alive by Christina Brooke Page B

take their course. Perhaps Lizzie had a plan to extricate herself from this mess. He would need to confer with her on that subject as soon as may be. He saw immediately how the matter might be accomplished, but he didn’t deny a certain malicious satisfaction at the prospect of watching her maneuver herself out of this fix.
    As long as the fellow didn’t touch her again, Xavier bore him no ill will.
    But the image of Lizzie locked in Huntley’s embrace was one he could not seem to erase from his mind.

 
    Chapter Seven
    Dear Heaven, would this evening never end?
    Lizzie missed supper entirely, for while she had little sympathy for Mrs. Huntley’s dramatics, she couldn’t leave the older lady’s side until she knew Mrs. Huntley was safely bundled into her carriage, attended by her devoted son.
    Huntley did spare Lizzie a few moments before he climbed into the carriage with the ladies, however. “My dear, most unfortunate! I am truly sorry that our special night has been cut short. Mama’s constitution is not strong. I should not have begged her to accompany me tonight. It was very wrong. As you see, even a delightful surprise such as we have given her tonight has overset her nerves entirely.”
    He reached for her hand, but she eluded him. “Mr. Huntley,” she said quietly. “I meant what I said. I cannot marry you.”
    The man’s skin was as thick as elephant hide. His smile didn’t falter. “Oh, my dear Lizzie, what nonsense you speak. I know very well it is the lady’s prerogative to be bashful, but I hope you will be done with that soon. I am impatient to set all in train. Mr. Allbright shall marry us, of course.”
    Mr. Allbright most certainly would not. “But—”
    “Mr. Huntley, I do believe you ought not to keep your mama waiting,” said Miss Worthington, emerging from the barouche where she had settled the ailing matron and tenderly tucked her shawl around her.
    Huntley started, then shook his head. “Indeed, you are right, Miss Worthington. In all the excitement, I was forgetting myself.”
    With a profusion of apologies, thanks and farewells to Lizzie and Miss Worthington, he climbed into the carriage and rapped on its roof with his cane.
    As the barouche set off, Miss Worthington said sharply, “A neat evening’s work, Miss Allbright. You are to be congratulated.”
    Lizzie watched Miss Worthington’s straight figure stalk back to the assembly rooms and wondered if it wouldn’t be best for all concerned if she packed her bags and left for the Continent.
    Then she remembered that was where her papa had retreated from his creditors and thought perhaps not.
    She would need to find a way out of this mess. No matter how much she protested, Mr. Huntley was not going to take a mere no for an answer. He must be made to repudiate the betrothal, or at least be eager to accept her rejection of his suit. How to do that, precisely, was what she could not, at the moment, fathom.
    Upon her return to the ballroom, it took very little time to realize that Steyne had left. She hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry about that.
    “Lizzie!” A small hand grabbed her arm in a viselike grip and dragged her to a quiet alcove.
    “Ouch! Clare, you are bruising my arm,” said Lizzie.
    Clare released her. “Sorry, but what is this I hear about you and Mr. Huntley? You didn’t say yes!”
    “No, of course I didn’t say yes.”
    “Well, everyone seems to think you did,” said Clare.
    “He wouldn’t take no for an answer,” said Lizzie. “You see, when he proposed to me, he … er … hugged me. Oh, it was dreadful, Clare. And then Miss Worthington and Mrs. Huntley appeared on the scene at that dreadful moment, and I could not very well say that I had refused him, could I?”
    Clare’s mouth fell open. “Oh, Lizzie,” she said in a hollow voice. “What are you going to do?”
    “I’ll think of something.” She had to. Even Clare did not know how utterly imperative it was that she extricate