Phin caught a glimpse of Gleason saying something to Lady Hamilton, which might have been the reason she didn’t pursue them across the room. He swept Lenore into his arms for the waltz, then danced them even farther away, to the opposite side of the room.
“As if we need any other reason to worry about our reputations,” Lenore said, laughing, but without any humor.
“Miss Garret, I’m surprised,” Phin said, smiling. “I didn’t think you cared at all for your reputation.”
She barked another laugh that drew attention from a few of the couples dancing near them on the crowded floor. “There’s no point in caring for something that’s already gone,” she said.
“It’s not as bad as all that,” Phin said, pulling her closer.
“Oh, but it is.” She glanced up at him with guilty eyes, then sighed and lowered her head. “Phin, you should know that I packed all my things today. I’m going to go with Bart.”
“What?” Phin’s whole body tensed. His grip on Lenore changed to that of a man desperately clinging to something he didn’t want to lose. “Lenore, you cannot. The man is vicious. He’ll kill you, or worse.”
She looked up at him again, her mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. “I know,” she said, all energy draining from her. “But I would rather he do his worst with me instead of going back to Haskell and wreaking vengeance on my family. You know he would,” she argued as Phin opened his mouth to fight. “I haven’t been able to think of anything else for the last few days. I cannot put my loved ones back home in danger any more than you could put Hazel and the girls at risk.”
“He can be stopped,” Phin said, every muscle in his body rigid with frustration.
“Yes, he can be stopped if I go with him,” she said. Her expression changed, a hint of her backbone returning. “You don’t think I’m simply going to roll over and do whatever he tells me to do, like a meek little wife, do you?”
That question left Phin even more at a loss for words. He shook himself and said, “I won’t have you putting yourself in any sort of danger.”
She snapped straighter. “So you think you have a right to tell me what I can and cannot do now? How very disappointing.”
“It’s not that, Lenore.” He let out a breath, his shoulders sagging as he did. “But have a little sense, will you? It’s all well and good to have enough confidence in oneself to stand up to a murderer, but really, it’s foolish. Particularly when there are likely a dozen other ways to resolve the situation.”
“I’m all ears if you want to share any of those ways,” she said in a wry voice. “Oh, but before you start listing them, you should know that Freddy and Reese have already contacted Scotland Yard.”
“They have?”
“Yes, and the authorities see this as a domestic dispute between foreigners,” she went on. “And since they don’t have any solid proof that Bart has or ever intended to murder anyone, as far as they’re concerned, he’s just a husband who has caught up with his runaway wife. I will leave you to draw conclusions about the rest of what they said.”
Phin clenched his jaw, aching with frustration. After all the strides women had made in the last few years, after all of the ways they’d proven to the world that they were competent and capable, the law still sided with husbands, even when the woman was in danger.
“I won’t let it rest there,” he said. “You’re not leaving with Swan, even if you think you can best him somehow.”
“I escaped from him once,” Lenore said. “I’m certain I can do it again, and find a way to keep those I love safe in the process.”
Phin didn’t have a chance to argue with her. Once again, the room filled with the buzz of gossip and whispers of excitement as everyone turned to the doorway. He and Lenore gave up dancing and looked to see who had arrived. Judging by the zip in the room, it was probably royalty.
But no, the figure who appeared in the ballroom doorway, thumbs hooked through his belt, broad smile under his bushy moustache, was Bart Swan himself.
Chapter 18
From the moment she’d entered the room, Lenore knew the situation was as bad as she’d imagined it could be. She’d always known that London society considered her a bit of an anomaly. Even with dozens of American heiresses crossing the Atlantic to stake their claim on the lords of England, she stuck out. She was a curiosity, but never more so than she had been in the last few days.
She was teetering on the verge of thinking maybe that wasn’t so bad after all, that perhaps being seen as strange to begin with would help excuse things if she was seen to throw Freddy over for Phin. That was, if Phin still wanted her. The way he’d met her when she entered the ballroom raised her hopes in that regard.
And Bart swaggering into the startled room of British aristocracy, sniffing at the decorations, sneering at lords with titles he didn’t understand, and generally marking himself as a man who didn’t care what everyone around him thought, dashed those hopes entirely.
“This is not going to end well,” she sighed, stepping away from Phin, even as most of the couples around them resumed their waltz. She started dodging her way through those couples, determined to take the bull by the horns and wrestle him as far away from the people she’d grown to care about as possible.
“Where are you going?” Phin hissed, leaping after her.
Lenore paused to turn toward him, even though Bart had spotted her and broken into a vicious smile. “I need to face what I’ve been avoiding,” she said, pressing a hand to her stomach. She sounded far braver than she felt. Inside, she was
