Free Dancing with a Rogue by Patricia; Potter Page B

like to leave.”
    He finally stepped back, but his eyes said he was none too pleased. “I did not intend to offend,” he said, though it was obvious to her that he was struggling to contain his anger. “I hope you would not hold it against me.”
    â€œI will consider that an apology,” she said, “and accept it.” She allowed herself a small smile. “I hope you will attend our opening performance.”
    â€œYou may be sure of it.” He bowed slightly, and, with the same arrogance with which he’d appeared, he turned around and left.
    Monique heard Dani’s sigh behind her, as if she had been holding her breath for a long time.
    â€œMy lady, he is a bad one. I was afraid …”
    â€œThat he would hit me?”
    â€œ Oui .”
    â€œA man like that commits his violence behind closed doors,” Monique said.
    â€œPerhaps we should return to Paris. I am afraid for you.”
    â€œ Non . I have taken that first step. I am a challenge now, one he has to win.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    â€œAnd then I will find a way to prove he is a murderer.”
    Dani was silent.
    Monique willed herself to relax. She could control Stanhope. She just had to make sure she was never alone with him.
    Dani helped her on with her cloak. In minutes she would be back at the town house and Mrs. Miller would have tea prepared. And a bath.
    What a lovely thought.
    She sent a lad outside to fetch their carriage.
    A crowd of young bucks lounged outside as they left the theater. They had been gathering there the last few days as word of her arrival circulated. But this afternoon there were more than a few, each one craning their necks. One approached her.
    â€œMademoiselle, I was hoping you may consent to supper with me,” the young man said in deplorable French.
    â€œ Merci , but I cannot,” she replied in perfect English.
    He looked surprised. Several others started to crowd in around her. Dani tried to move closer but was blocked.
    â€œPlease let my friend through,” she said.
    Instead Dani was pushed backward and Monique’s unwelcomed suitor pressed closer to her.
    She looked around, and toward the back she saw a tall familiar figure. It was the marquess she had met at the gaming hell, the one that eerily reminded her of the man who had attracted her attention at the harbor.
    But now, as before, he had none of the presence she’d seen in the man who had dominated the deck of the ship, standing as if he owned all he surveyed. A quizzing glass was in one eye and he languidly held a walking stick. He remained in the back of the group, but his gaze on her was intelligent and searching just before his expression went blank.
    â€œPardon me,” she said to the man blocking her as the rented coach clattered toward her. She made a move for it, but the buck who had asked that she accompany him to supper stood in front of her.
    â€œI am sure you would not regret it,” he said. He grasped her elbow.
    â€œRelease me,” she demanded, but by then the group of men had closed in.
    â€œShe said ‘release’ her,” a familiar voice said. It seemed lightly spoken, but an edge of menace lay underneath. She looked up, startled to see the Marquess of Manchester slicing his way through the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea. Oddly enough others parted for him.
    She wondered why. He looked like such a dandy.
    â€œMiss Fremont,” he said. “I must apologize for my tardiness.”
    He looked at the man who still had his hand on her arm. “I believe the lady asked you to release her,” he said.
    The man holding her arm hesitated, then dropped his hand to his side and backed away. Silently, Manchester watched. He knew her assailant would back away.
    Despite appearances to the contrary, she once more had the impression of strength.
    â€œ Merci , my lord,” she said. “You are late,” she scolded, taking his cue.
    The words