Page 41 of How to Best a Marquess

“I sought solitude.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I saw you flee.”

She stood to face him, chin held high. “I didn’t run away.”

He cocked an eyebrow in an arrogant manner that infuriated her. “Good. Because I feared you spotted me and ran.”

She laughed, a high-pitched sound. “Never. Why are you here?”

“We should talk about what happened in the carriage.”

“We said all that needs to be said about the matter. The next time I plan to shield a beaten woman, you want to be informed.”

“You did not promise, as I recall.”

“You recall correctly.”

“Stubborn as ever.”

He shot her an all-too-familiar devilish grin. She should despise him for the ease and smoothness for which his lips curved. He was a man confident with the fair sex. She had no doubt he’d known more than his share—in and out of the bedroom.

Isabelle immediately came to mind.

Hugh broke the silence, his sharp eyes watching her. “I want you to know that you are the only woman on my mind.”

Her stomach tightened. Why would he say such a thing?

Unless he knew she spotted him with Isabelle, knew how much the mere sight of the woman disturbed her. No matter how many years had passed, Ellie’s gut still tightened in anticipation of a painful blow. And to see Hugh speak with her? Ellie would rather die a thousand deaths than see the two of them in the same room together. She needn’t subject herself to such misery.

“I attended Lady Emberly’s party because I knew you would be here,” he said. “I stopped by your brother’s residence, and he mentioned you and your sister had accepted an invitation. I headed here straightaway.”

“Why?”

“We should speak about our kiss. It’s been on my mind.”

Was he serious? Or was he manipulating her? Was everything a game of conquest for the Marquess of Deveril?

“It’s of little consequence. Not worth discussing or thinking about.”

Liar.She’d thought of little else.

“Hmm,” he said simply, as if he knew her thoughts. His gaze roamed an unhurried path over her features. She could feel the heat graze her cheek, then her lips, and her pulse quickened. “I think you’re lying.”

“You do not know me.”

He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated through her body. “To the contrary, I think I do know you. Shall I demonstrate how well?”

“What does that mean?”

Rather than kiss her, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her gloved hand. Even through the satin, her skin prickled pleasurably and her breathing grew shallow. A slow burn began in her stomach then spread to her limbs and the secret place between her legs. She felt her face heat. She hated that her body reacted this way to him. And he must know, damn him.

“It’s only about you, Ellie.”

Her heart pounded in her chest so forcefully she wondered if he could hear. It was as if he knew her deepest insecurities and was spewing what she needed to hear.

He knew.

He’d seen her flee. He knew how much the mere presence of Isabelle disturbed her. He knew, and he was trying to ease her torment.

“Do you believe me?”

Did she? Looking into his eyes, he seemed sincere, but she also knew she wasn’t the best judge of men. How could she be when he’d been the one to show her just how foolish she could be?

And what of the Raven Club? Nothing changed the fact that they were rivals. A fateful night in which they both helped a battered woman in need, a kiss in a carriage on the way home—neither event changed her goals.

“It no longer matters.” And with that final statement, she turned on her heel and fled the gardens.