“Get out!” Bardham had begun to sound unhinged. “The girl is my intended. Leave her to me and confine your abuses to your own women.”
Lord Tensford had no problem with leverage. He hauled back and planted Bardham a facer that sent him reeling back. The man tottered a moment, then crumpled to the floor.
“Are you all right?” Tensford’s tone was still harsh, but his touch was gentle as he steered Hope away.
The fear and anger began to drain, leaving her shaking. She nodded up at him, blinking furiously as her eyes began to fill.
“Oh, no!” he said. “No tears. We are not done yet. Come.” He held out a hand and she stared at it, finding it a welcome change from all the grabbing of her person that had gone on this evening. “Hurry. We cannot let you be found here.”
She put her hand in his—and couldn’t contain the shiver that went through her. He paused, looking for a moment at their clasped hands, then at her, before leading her to the window and helping her to climb through. Following, he tucked her hand in his arm and led her away. They strolled toward the wider portion of the terrace as if they’d only been following the curve of the balustrade.
“Are you betrothed to him?” he asked sharply.
“No.” She shivered, but indignation began to rise again. “He offered. I refused. With no hesitation and utmost certainty.”
“Ah.” Some of the tension left the arm beneath her hand. “What is the man thinking?”
She snorted. “He is thinking of paying off his debts with my dowry, I believe.”
“Then he must be deep in dun territory. This reeks of desperation.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.” Pained, she paused. “We have not even been introduced. But you are Lord Tensford? I am Lady Hope Brightley—and I am so grateful.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to thank me. We are not out of the woods yet,” he said sardonically. “If you are going to emerge from this unscathed, there must not be a whisper of your involvement. It would be best if we got you to a public spot where you can appear calm and unruffled and then completely surprised if news of Bardham’s condition becomes known.”
“I know you must be right, but it infuriates me.” She breathed out a huff of frustration. “I want to shout Bardham’s perfidy from the rooftops, let everyone know exactly what he is—if only to prevent some other girl from falling into his clutches.”
He stopped. “That is exactly what you must not do.” It emerged on a severe note. An order. “You cannot give these people . . . anything.” He waved at the house, shining and full to the brim with guests, his expression bitter. “Don’t give them a morsel, a tidbit or even a whisper of scandal. It will not matter that Bardham is a fool and a predator. The truth will not matter. They will take the facts and twist and turn them to suit themselves, sculpting a scandal that fits their prejudices and appetites, spreading it and allowing it to grow until it no longer resembles even a particle of the truth.”
They had reached the area of the terrace that lay outside the ballroom. The light from inside set his oddly lovely eyes to glittering. “Your innocence will be inconsequential. The fact that you acted just as you ought—it doesn’t make a good enough story.” He snorted. “The ton will delight in your downfall. Especially the women.” His eyes rolled. “The fairer sex? That is a joke. You will hear them say things of you that you will scarcely believe.”
She stared up at him and wondered if he knew how he was exposing his own pain. “Is that what happened to you, my lord?”
He started, pulled back. For a moment, she thought that he wouldn’t answer. She held her breath, afraid he would walk away.
He didn’t. He glared again at the dancers whirling inside, at the people chatting and laughing. Then he looked back at her. “Thank you.”
She blinked. “For . . ?”
“For asking. You are the first person who ever asked me.”
The undeniable sadness of that statement struck her hard. Was he so alone?
“Yes,” he answered. “That is exactly what happened to me.” He took her arm and started them moving again. “It will not happen to you.”
He paused and leaned against the rail next to the stairs and gestured below, over the small garden. “Do you see anyone you know? It would be best if you were among friends when Bardham awakes or his conspirator shows up.”
She peered down. “Yes. There. I am acquainted with Miss Nichols.”
“Perfect. We’ll see you added to her group.” He straightened and offered his arm again at the top of the stairway, but before she could take it, someone blurred past her and barreled into him, knocking him down the stairs.”
“Oh, pardon.” Sarcasm weighted the words. “I must have missed you there, Tensford.”
“Lord Bardham, have you lost your senses?” She shrank back as the man turned to her. His cheek was split and bleeding, and his nose still trickled blood too. One eye was rapidly swelling and the other looked . . . utterly mad. “You should have cooperated,” he growled.
“The lady refused you.” Lord Tensford had managed to keep his feet. “Take your rejection like a gentleman,” he growled.
“No.” Bardham glared at her. “I don’t believe I
