Faced with the two of them, he's left with little alternative. Just before he releases her hand, he squeezes it once more. London's knees buckle, and her ears ring, but Declan quickly steps forward and grips her around the waist. “I've got you,” he murmurs.
London turns her face into his shoulder and prays that she doesn't faint. She can feel the blister on her hand has burst and is thankful that Matthew has moved close to prevent others from seeing her. London tries to pull away, but Declan isn't ready to release her.
“I thank you, gentlemen, for coming to my aid. Excuse me,” her voice is raspy even to her own ears. When she tries to walk away, Declan keeps her close.
“Nonsense. We will escort you. Where is your chaperone?” Declan is worried about her. She has yet to get the color back in her face, and she seems to be barely holding back the tears.
“Do you need a doctor?” Matthew asks.
“No!” She says too quickly, but a tear breaks free and runs down her face.
Declan turns to his grandfather, “Keep watch,” he takes London by her elbow and moves swiftly through the sculpted garden to a gazebo.
“You need to sit down before you faint,” Declan demands. London almost laughs at his gruff tone, but she has yet to find her voice. Her hand is throbbing, and she is desperate to get back to her room.
Declan sits beside her and stares at the lovely young woman. “Why are you walking around the garden's unescorted?” He reaches for her hand, but London jerks away before he can touch her.
“No, don’t touch me,” she whispers and holds her gloved hand tightly to her chest.
“My apologies. I only wish to see if he bruised it,” Declan explains. Fear is flickering in her lovely eyes. Why do they seem familiar? “Am I supposed to know you?” Declan asks. London shakes her head.
“Forgive me, Lord Sheridan, but I'm afraid I don't have much time,” she starts to say. “I was looking for you,” London stops talking when she realizes how close he is to her. Her heart starts to pound, and she stares into his eyes, temporarily forgetting what she was about to say.
Declan stares at her and smiles softly. He memorizes every angle. Lovely blonde hair, down around her shoulders and dancing on an unseen wind. Declan is transfixed by the curve of her cheek to the shape of her pink lips.
“Tell me your name?” he pleads, reaching out to touch her face. London leans forward, and her lips part in a rush of breath when his finger strokes down her cheek.
A shrill voice calls his name, interrupting them. London's soft hiss of fear isn't hidden quickly enough. Declan rises and protectively steps in front of her.
“Declan, it’s time to make the announcement,” Lady Hubbard calls out.
Matthew walks into the clearing and shrugs his shoulders as if to say sorry.
“Of course,” Declan walks forward to Mrs. Hubbard and offers his arm to her. “Mrs. Hubbard, you look enchanting in the moonlight,” Declan says. “May I escort you back to the ballroom?”
“Call me Tessa, Declan,” she giggles as she grips his arm.
“I hope you saved a dance for me, Tessa,” Declan says as he walks her back to the ballroom.
London’s relief is instant. “This was a terrible idea,” she sniffs back tears and stands.
Matthew jerks in surprise. He knows that voice! Before he can move, London starts to walk away, but he steps in front of her, “Stop,” his deep voice causes her to pause in relief.
“Forgive me, Lord Sheridan, I was hoping to have more time.”
“It is you!” Matthew states.
London sighs.
“Yes. I’m glad to see you are well after the close call you had at the workshop.”
Matthew stares at her and laughs out loud. “I knew I recognized your voice. Your hand?” The pain is starting to ease into a manageable throb.
“Is going to be okay. Lord Sheridan, you must listen to me. I don't have much time.”
“Of course, please allow me to escort you back inside.” He offers his arm, leaving her no chance to refute him.
“That’s very kind of you,” she says softly.
Matthew pats her good hand and walks her through the gardens.
“I work for the Hubbard's, Lord Sheridan. I overheard something disturbing, and I tried to warn Declan. I put a note in his overcoat, but I'm guessing he didn't receive it?” she asks. “I sent a telegram as well. Did you receive that?”
“Not that I know of my dear,” Matthew says, “but we've been busy with the fire and wedding. I'm afraid our correspondences have gone unattended.”
The music from the ballroom becomes louder as they draw closer. Walking back inside, everyone has fallen quiet when the music stops, and George walks forward to make the announcement.
“Tonight we celebrate the impending nuptials,” George’s voice fades as London stares at Declan. Reagan is standing stiffly at his side.
“He doesn't look like a happy groom,” someone whispers. The music starts, and Declan escorts Reagan to the floor to dance.
“Don’t they look good together?” a female voice says from beside her.
Reagan dances, but her eyes are on a young man making his way out of the ballroom. He passes Matthew and London with a look of sorrow mixed with anger.
“I’m betting that young man doesn’t think so,” Matthew chuckles.
The music changes, and Declan returns Reagan to her family. Couples move to the floor as the first tones of the waltz start. Matthew bows to London, “Would you gift an old man with a dance?”
“I love the waltz,” London smiles. Pushing back the pain in her hand, she says, “I'd be honored.” As they dance, London is surprised by the elegance of his step, considering his
