Chapter Forty-Four

"I knew he'd cause a sensation!"

Daisy's laughing comment forced a reluctant smile from Ellie. As predicted, Tess's ballroom was filled to bursting with an avid crowd, all desperate to make the acquaintance of the newly minted Earl of Cobham.

Tales of his mysterious ten-year disappearance were rife with so much exaggeration and embellishment that Ellie was convinced he'd started most of them himself.

"Someone told me he's been a spy for Wellington," Daisy murmured. "And that he infiltrated Napoleon's birthday party."

" I heard he had something to do with finding the French Crown Jewels." Tess snorted from behind her fan.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "He couldn't have been more than five years old when those were stolen. Wherever do people get these ridiculous ideas?"

"The best one was that he'd been kidnapped by Barbary pirates, negotiated his own ransom, and ended up at the court of the Bey of Algiers as his translator." Daisy shook her head.

"I like the rumor that he helped the banker Rothschild smuggle gold to the army in the Peninsula."

"To be fair, with Harry, any one of those could actually be true." Ellie sighed.

All three of them glanced over to the opposite side of the room, where Harry was holding court at the center of a throng of rapt admirers, and Ellie's heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

She'd expected him to wear something extravagant and flamboyant, like the powder-blue coat he'd worn to Willingham's, but he'd surprised her yet again. His stark black evening jacket was so perfectly cut to accentuate his lean, muscled physique that he made every other man in attendance look scruffy and unkempt in comparison. His buff breeches and frothy cravat were the epitome of understated elegance.

At this distance, he was barely in focus, since she'd forgone her glasses in favor of not looking like a studious bluestocking.

"They couldn't have welcomed Lazarus rising from the dead with any more enthusiasm," Daisy said drily.

"Everyone loves a fairy tale." Ellie shrugged. "He'll be the toast of the town until someone else with a more exciting story comes along. They're all so fickle."

Tess slid her a sideways glance. "I'm so glad you wore that dress, El. You look sensational. Lord Ware's asked me three times for an introduction, and James Coutts begged me for your name the moment you entered the room."

"I've spoken to James Coutts on at least three separate occasions this season. He's called me Sophie every single time. The man's an imbecile."

Daisy chuckled. "It's a rare thing to find a man with money and brains."

"I have to say, I adore Harry's uncle Hugo. The man's an incorrigible rogue." Tess smiled and waved at the man in question, who was flirting outrageously with Emma Sydenham, the ton 's most eligible widow.

"It's a shame your parents couldn't come, Ellie. It would have been nice to introduce them to Harry."

"It would, but my aunt Eliza fell and sprained her ankle while coming out of church on Sunday, so Mother's traveled down to stay with her for a week." Ellie shrugged. "And you know what my father's like. He'd rather bury himself in depositions and witness statements than endure the agony of attending a ball. I'm sure he was delighted when that last-minute petition for clemency was delivered, needing his urgent attention."

She glanced over at Harry again, and squinted. He seemed to be moving.

"Is Harry coming this way?" she muttered. "I can't see."

"He is," Tess murmured. "And he's looking at you as if you're the key to the jewel chamber at the Tower! I'd say that dress is doing its job."

And then Ellie couldn't breathe, because Harry was there, in front of her.

She hadn't seen him in person for over two weeks, and when she finally managed to suck in her breath, her pulse stuttered at the familiar scent of his cologne.

"Good evening to my three favorite ladies."

Tess and Daisy both swept him extravagant, mocking bows.

"Good evening, Mr. King," they echoed, in perfect unison.

"Sorry, force of habit," Daisy added loudly with a grin, fully aware that they could be overheard by those closest to them. "Although I suppose now the cat's out of the bag."

Ellie barely dipped a curtsey. Her legs were suddenly like jelly.

Harry turned to her and held out his hand. "May I have the honor of this dance, Miss Law?"

Heat rose in her cheeks. "Oh, no, really, I don't—"

"She does!" Daisy said, pushing her forward with a hand on the small of her back.

"She definitely does," Tess echoed with a glittering smile.

Ellie sent each of them a glare that promised retribution.

Harry leaned in. "You can't wear a dress like that and expect to stand at the side of the room like a wallflower. There's not an unmarried man here who hasn't been trying to pluck up the courage to ask you to dance."

Ellie had to smile at his hyperbole. "Am I so fierce, then? Or is it just that you're bolder than most?"

His dimples flashed as he smiled that irresistible smile. "Oh, I am definitely bolder than most. Faint heart never won fair lady."

She sighed, and her desire to be held in his arms overrode her reluctance to be the center of attention. "Oh, very well."

The whispers increased as Harry's choice of companion was noted, but he merely turned her in his arms as the first swirling strains of the orchestra filled the air. Ellie tried to relax as his hand settled on the small of her back, and his other hand held hers at precisely the correct angle near her shoulder. She'd never felt so self-conscious in her life.

"Do you remember our first dance, at Willingham's?" he murmured.

"Yes." Her throat was inexplicably dry. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but now that she had the opportunity, her mind was an unhelpful blank. At least this close, she could see the fascinating colors of his eyes. They were wonderfully distracting.

"In the carriage, on the way to the Tower, I told you how important it was for me to prove my real name."

"I remember."

"It's because I realized, several years ago now, that I couldn't ever marry without it."

Ellie's spirits plummeted. Had he considered marrying someone in the past? Or had it just been a general, theoretical observation? A thought that he might want to marry, eventually .

She was too afraid to ask. "People sign fake names on the marriage register all the time. My father prosecuted a man only last month who'd married two different women under two different names."

"Those marriages weren't legal, though, were they?"

"Well. No."

He looked down at her. "If I loved a woman enough to want to marry her, then I couldn't trick her into a sham marriage and risk disgracing her. That wouldn't be love at all. Love is caring for the other person so much that you'd do anything to avoid hurting them."

Ellie's heart was hammering in her throat at his closeness. The room was unseasonably warm. She moistened her lips, and his gaze dropped to her mouth before flashing back to hers.

"But now you have your real name, beyond all reasonable doubt. You can marry whoever you like with a clean conscience," she said.

He'd probably already made a short list of candidates from the women he'd met this evening. She could think of half a dozen ladies who'd be perfect as his countess, all of them beautiful and accomplished in their own ways.

His lips twitched. "I don't think I'll ever have a completely clean conscience, but at least in that particular instance I would be innocent."

She braced herself to hear the worst. She'd always known that theirs would only be a temporary fling, and while she'd hoped it might last longer than it had done, she would accept defeat stoically, if not willingly.

Still, she couldn't seem to look away.

"I have someone in mind, actually."

She missed a step, but he covered the stumble with his usual effortless grace, swinging her round in an impromptu twirl that made her skirts wrap around his legs like seaweed.

"Oh?" she croaked, grateful for the small mercy that she sounded interested, and not soul-crushed. "Anyone I know?"

"It is, as a matter of fact."

She was starting to feel sick, but she managed to twist her lips into a parody of a smile. "Who?"

"Do you know, Miss Law, for a woman with an incredibly brilliant mind, you are, on occasion, incredibly stupid."

Ellie gasped, momentarily shocked out of her misery by the insult. "What?"

"You've already refused to be my partner in crime, because you're far too sensible, but how do you feel about being my partner in life?"

Ellie blinked, sure she was dreaming and had somehow slipped into an alternative universe without realizing it. She almost looked around to see if the rest of the guests had turned into cats, but Harry's gaze held her hostage.

"You want to marry me ?"

"Of course I want to marry you." His brows twitched in the merest hint of masculine confusion. "Who on earth else do you think I'd want to marry? I love you. And I'm pretty sure you love me too."

Ellie was sure she must be staring up at him like a simpleton.

"Wait. Say it again. You love me?"

His mouth creased into a smile and his dimples appeared. "Why do you sound so astonished? Yes, I love you. I have no idea precisely when it happened, but I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

He turned them both in another elegant swirl, and in the small part of her brain that wasn't frozen with shock, Ellie was grateful that at least one of them had retained their coordination.

" Because I love you," he continued with devastating normalcy, as if they were discussing something as unimportant as the likelihood of rain, "I am not going to get down on one knee in the middle of this enormous crowd of people and propose to you, because I know you'd likely die of mortification to be the focus of such a spectacle. But what I can tell you is that as soon as we are alone, I'm going to beg you for your hand."

He smiled down at her. "Do you think you're going to accept?"

Ellie swallowed, hardly daring to trust the glowing ball of happiness that seemed to be lodged beneath her sternum.

"I don't see why not. Because I love you too. Quite desperately."

His fingers tightened on hers for a fraction of a second, and as his shoulder relaxed beneath her palm, she realized with astonishment that he'd actually been tense. The idea was so ridiculous it brought a smile to her face.

"Did you honestly think I'd refuse you?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. Someone like you can do a million times better than me. But I think you loved me before I had a name, so I had a little hope."

She shook her head. "I don't care what you call yourself. I don't care if you're a thief, or an earl, or the son of a chimney sweep."

His eyes bored into hers. "Now I really wish we weren't in such a public place, because I want to kiss you very much."

Mischief flashed through her. "You have only yourself to blame. This was an ill-conceived plan."

"Probably the worst I've ever concocted," he agreed ruefully. The heat in his gaze made her hotter than ever, and just the promise of his lips on hers made excitement tingle through her veins.

"But what should I call you? Charles? Harry? Henry?" she teased, suddenly bold.

"Yours," he murmured. "Just call me yours."

The music came to a rapturous end, and Ellie smiled up at him, breathless. He released her right hand reluctantly, but kept his left hand at her waist as he escorted her off the dance floor and back toward Tess and Daisy, who were watching them with undisguised interest.

Ellie was sure they could discern her happiness even from across the room. She felt like she was glowing with it.

"Do you think your father will agree to you marrying me, now I'm the Earl of Cobham?" he murmured. "As opposed to a nameless ne'er-do-well."

She deliberately bumped his hip with hers. "He and Mother always wanted me to find my perfect match, whoever that was. They've never pressured me to marry a man with a title, or to settle for someone I didn't love."

"I've got a good chance, then."

"I'd say so."

Daisy was practically hopping from foot to foot with curiosity. "That seemed a very intense conversation you two were having out there."

Ellie sent Harry an amused, questioning look. "Would you call it intense?"

He tilted his head and pretended to consider, and she almost burst out laughing.

"A spirited negotiation," he said solemnly.

"Regarding what?" Daisy pressed, trying—and failing—to keep her voice to a low screech.

"Another joint collaboration," Ellie said, delighting in being deliberately evasive.

"A mutually beneficial arrangement," Harry added.

Tess raised her brows, clearly intrigued but not daring to read too much into their loaded words. "Business? Or Pleasure?"

Harry glanced at Ellie and his eyes darkened as his pupils expanded. "Oh, most definitely pleasure," he drawled.

Daisy let out a tiny, muffled squeak of excitement and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Tess's lips curved into a smile and she turned to address Harry. "In approximately ten minutes my husband is going to ask you to go to his study to discuss a business venture," she said softly.

Harry raised his brows. "He is?"

"Yes, because I'm going to ask him to. You are going to accept, but when you get to the study, you're going to open the door that's concealed in the wall in the corner next to the large globe."

"Interesting," Harry smiled, clearly intrigued.

"That door leads to a servants' passage, and a staircase that goes up to the third floor. Wait in the first room on the right."

Harry took her hand, bowed low over it, and kissed it. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Tess sent him a gracious nod watched as he took his cue and walked away without a backward glance.

Daisy turned to Ellie, and raised her voice just enough to carry.

"Ellie, my love, you're looking extremely hot." She fanned her enthusiastically.

Tess pretended to look equally concerned. "Oh dear, yes. Perhaps the dancing was too much? Why don't you go upstairs and cool down for a moment?"

Ellie caught the wicked twinkle in their eyes, and a wave of gratitude for her wonderful, devious friends swelled inside her.

"Indeed, I do feel a little overheated. I think I'll take your advice."