Part 10 (1/2)

”Do you think the sheep farmer can dance a quadrille?” the viscount asked, sneering as Max faced him. ”I'm surprised he managed the waltz. What did you trade for lessons, Halfurst, mutton?”

Maximilian gazed at Howard levelly. The guests had grown silent, the better to overhear someone else's business. Of more concern to him was Anne, practically quivering with anger and indignation beside him.

At that moment he realized he wouldn'ta”couldn'ta”lose her, no matter what it took. She'd made several good points in her argument. Whether he cared about his reputation or not, she did, and if they were to be married, their names would become joined.

”I have respected my fiancee's friends.h.i.+p with you, Howard,” he said in a low, level voice. ”But now you are embarra.s.sing her. Leave.”

” 'Leave?' I have no intention of going anywhere. You're the outsider here, marquis.”

”Lord Howard, please stop,” Anne hissed. ”You've done enough damage.”

”Oh, I've barely begun. Please, let's hear more of your witty repartee, sheep farmer.”

That was enough of that. Anne had urged him to take action. ”How's this?” Max returned.

He shot out with his right fist, catching Howard square in the jaw. With a grunt the viscount dropped to the polished floor.

”Much better.” Maximilian faced Anne, ignoring the explosion of gasps and t.i.ttering from all around them. ”Come with me.”

”Good heavens,” she whispered, staring at Howard's crumpled form. ”One punch.”

Max was unable to help a grim smile at her astounded expression. ”You should have told me earlier that you preferred a man of action.”

Anne felt too dazed to speak as the marquis led her out the nearest exit and down a narrow set of stairs. She'd only meant that he should defend his reputation verballya”knocking Desmond unconscious had not been part of the scenario, satisfying as the sight had been. ”He's going to be very angry.”

”Hence my escorting you from the scene,” Maximilian returned, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. ”Where in d.a.m.nation are we?”

”These are the servants' stairs, I think.”

As she spoke, a footman laden with a tray of sweetmeats exited through a swinging door, nearly colliding with Halfurst.

”Beg pardon, my lord,” he stammered, attempting to bow and balance at the same tune.

”What's through there?” Maximilian asked, indicating the door.

”The kitchen, my lord.”

”Is there an exit on the other side?”

”Yes, my lord. To the gardens.”

”Good.” The servant continued to gawk at the two of them, until the marquis nudged him toward the stairs. ”Go.”

As soon as the footman vanished up the stairs, Maximilian yanked Anne up against him and lowered his head to kiss her with a ferociousness that left her breathless and taut with desire.

”Someone will see us,” she managed, tangling her fingers in his black hair.

”I don't care.”

”I do.”