Page 99 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“How formidable,” she teased, because kissing him under a spray of lilac and white roses was becoming more and more likely. She could not be distracted. Neither of them could be.

He raised his left eyebrow in that way she loved. “It ruins the effect when you comment on it.”

“Does it? Duly noted. My lord.”

“Scoundrel.”

She felt better now, she realized. Ready.

“It’s time,” she murmured as the music ended.

Keir’s expression went inscrutable. She knew now that it only meant he was feeling too many things at once. He nodded once and brought their waltz to an end at the edge of the dance floor. The chalk to keep dancing slippers from sliding was already smudged. Sybil curtsied. His eyes narrowed. She almost stuck out her tongue, would have were this not such serious business.

Instead, Sybil walked away fanning herself, telling a dowager who tried to stop her that she merely needed a bit of air and a moment to rest.

“Of course, all the excitement!”

That dowager had no idea.

Sybil felt better the moment she stepped into the hall. The stifling heat, the masked faces all tracking her, made the back of her neck ache. She would rather jump into the icy Serpentine again. Or attend to Mrs. Farraway. Fight an actual swan.

She nodded to one of her mother’s friends, then passed the ladies’ retiring room—which was naturally plastered with Spinster Society flyers.

But the ladies’ retiring room was not her destination.

She paused by the door to the side garden, near the stairs down to the kitchen, and felt like an idiot. But she had to be seen, here more than anywhere. She poked her head outside. “Come on,” she muttered. “Think of my dowry. Take the bait.”

Someone grabbed her from behind.

Success.

“No hard feelings,” a man’s voice said in her ear. He smelled like wine and snuff. “But I need your dowry, Miss Taunton. We’re going to Gretna Green.”

He slapped his hand over her mouth without realizing that she was not fighting back and had not attempted to scream.

He was yanked off her within seconds.

Keir tossed him down the stairs, where Pierce waited. “One down.”

Sybil danced again, wandered toward the back gardens, danced some more, stepped outside for another breath of air.

One Minos Society member, two.

And three.

They had taken the bait, and now the Spinsters had quite a collection, all trussed up and gagged in the storage room off the kitchen. Keir had broken a few fingers. Sybil had dislocated a kneecap. Peony tripped three earls just because she did not like them.

Sybil’s mother had invited three magistrates to the ball, and Priya had invited three Bow Street Runners. They did not yet know what awaited them.

And if anyone noticed that Keir kept tossing men down the stairs, they did not mention it.

When Sybil returned to the ballroom once more, she was glad to be approached by Lord Bailey. Victor was an uncomplicated friend. “Will you dance?” he asked, grinning up at her from his overly elaborate bow.

“Of course, Lord Bailey.”

“Lord Bailey?” He made a face. “Never say you’ve gone and changed on me? Just because of a dowry?”

She softened her polite expression. “Of course not.” They always danced together, had done so for over a year now. Only she hoped he did not think there was a chance between them now. She did not wish to hurt his feelings.