Free The Counterfeit Count by Jo Ann Ferguson Page B

remains—”
    â€œAnd shall be dealt with at the proper time. There will be opportunities to discuss it. I think you shall be seeing quite a bit of the count.”
    â€œI wish only to see the count’s blood mixed with the mud that splattered my coat.” He pulled a glove from beneath his waistcoat.
    Creighton stood. “No!”
    Natalya tensed, then gasped as Mr. Lawson struck her cheek with the glove.
    Petr leapt forward, pulling his knife.
    â€œ Nyet !” cried Natalya.
    Mr. Lawson’s face bleached with fear. “Tell your beast there I meant that as a token of challenge.”
    Natalya turned and said, “Petr, it is nothing. He clearly sees me as a gentleman who has affronted him.”
    â€œThen he sees no more than anyone else, Kapitán, save for the other.”
    She nodded. “Our host has pledged to keep my secret from anyone else.”
    â€œHe will, or he will die.”
    Again she nodded, knowing this was not the time to remind Petr they must cause no trouble while in England.
    â€œWill you share what Sergeant Zass has to say?” Lord Ashcroft asked quietly. “He looks unconvinced.”
    She clasped her hands behind her back. She must not give free rein to their yearning to touch the shimmering warmth of the satin waistcoat accenting his broad chest. Other men had touched her, but none with an invitation to such sweet madness. She could counter the greatest thrust of a lance, yet she could not force aside the memory of Lord Ashcroft’s fingers grazing her cheek.
    â€œHe understands,” she began, then heard her voice tremble. She looked hastily away as a smile curved along Lord Ashcroft’s lips. Taking a deep breath, she focused her eyes on Mr. Lawson’s face. If she did not look at the viscount, she could not be caught by the promise of pleasure in his eyes. “Mr. Lawson, Petr understands your anglíski ways are different from ours.”
    â€œI can see that.”
    â€œGood,” she said.
    â€œAnd I can see,” he continued, “that there is little reason to continue this conversation.”
    Lord Ashcroft said in the same quiet tone, “I shall speak with Count Dmitrieff without delay, Barclay. Then the three of us shall complete the arrangements this evening at Lady Eltonville’s gathering.”
    â€œA dandy of an idea.” He smiled broadly.
    Natalya looked from one to the other. Was she missing something in their words? Something that they found amusing? A pinch of dismay struck her. If Lord Ashcroft had divulged the truth to his friend … No, he had given her his word. As an Englishman , she reminded herself, not sure what that was worth. “A gathering? What sort of gathering?”
    â€œAn evening with music and dancing and cards.” Mr. Lawson shrugged. “You may not have its counterpart in that uncivilized land of yours.”
    â€œYes, we do,” she said slowly. If he wished to enrage her into doing something foolish, he would soon learn how mistaken he was. She would not have survived five minutes on the battlefield if she were prone to surrendering to impulse.
    â€œThen join us.” Lord Ashcroft chuckled. “We shall have a roaring good time at the card table, if I recall your description of Russian habits correctly, Count Dmitrieff.”
    Mr. Lawson gave her no chance to demur as he strode to the door. “It is settled then. I look forward to seeing the two of you—” He glanced at Petr. “Yes, I look forward to seeing the two of you this evening.”
    â€œBut Petr would serve as my second for the challenge,” she said.
    Mr. Lawson’s lips tightened. “It seems Russian ways are quite similar to ours in these matters. Why are we delaying? Tonight, once the moon has risen, we can—”
    â€œWe will discuss this at the gathering,” Lord Ashcroft said, the ice returning to his voice. “Agreed?”
    Natalya said, “If