Tempt Me at Twilight (The Hathaways #3)(34)

The black-haired man lifted his head, murmured something to Poppy, and leveled a cool glance at Michael Bayning.

A glance of triumph.

It only lasted a moment, but Leo saw it, and recognized it for what it was.

“Holy hell,” Leo whispered.

His sister was in considerable trouble.

When a Hathaway caused a scandal, they never did it by half measures.

By the time Leo steered Poppy back into the ballroom and collected Miss Marks and Beatrix, the scandal had started to spread. In no time at all, Cam and Amelia had found them, and the family drew together in a protective cluster around Poppy.

“What happened?” Cam asked, looking deceptively relaxed, his hazel eyes alert.

“Harry Rutledge happened,” Leo muttered. “I’ll explain everything shortly. For now, let’s leave here as quickly as possible and meet Rutledge at the hotel.”

Amelia leaned close to murmur into Poppy’s scarlet ear. “It’s all right, dear. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

“You can’t,” Poppy whispered. “No one can.”

Leo looked past his sisters and saw the subdued uproar of the crowd. Everyone was staring at them. “It’s like watching an ocean wave,” he remarked. “One can literally see the scandal sweep through the room.”

Cam looked sardonic and resigned. “Gadjos,” he muttered. “Leo, why don’t you take your sister and Miss Marks in your carriage? Amelia and I will make our farewells to the Norburys.”

In a daze of wretchedness, Poppy allowed Leo to usher her outside to his carriage. All of them were silent until the vehicle had pulled away from the mansion with a sharp lurch.

Beatrix was the first to speak. “Have you been compromised, Poppy?” she asked with concern. “As Win was last year?”

“Yes, she has,” Leo replied, while Poppy let out a little moan. “It’s a bad habit our family’s gotten into. Marks, you’d better write a poem about it.”

“This disaster could have been avoided,” the companion told him tersely, “had you found her sooner.”

“It could also have been avoided if you hadn’t lost her in the first place,” Leo shot back.

“I’m responsible,” Poppy broke in, her voice muffled against Leo’s shoulder. “I went off with Mr. Rutledge. I had just seen Mr. Bayning in the ballroom, and I was distraught, and Mr. Rutledge asked me to dance but I needed air and we went out to the balcony—”

“No, I’m responsible,” Miss Marks said, looking equally as upset. “I let you dance with him.”

“It does no good to assign blame,” Leo said. “What’s done is done. But if anyone is responsible, it’s Rutledge, who apparently came to the ball on a hunting expedition.”

“What?” Poppy lifted her head and looked at him in bewilderment. “You think he . . . no, it was an accident, Leo. Mr. Rutledge didn’t intend to compromise me.”

“It was deliberate,” Miss Marks said. “Harry Rutledge never gets ‘caught’ doing anything. If he was seen in a compromising situation, it was because he wanted to be seen.”

Leo looked at her alertly. “How do you know so much about Rutledge?”

The companion flushed. It seemed to require an effort for her to hold his gaze. “His reputation, of course.”

Leo’s attention was diverted as Poppy buried her face against his shoulder. “I’m going to die of humiliation,” she said.

“No, you won’t,” Leo replied. “I’m an expert on humiliation, and if it were fatal, I’d have died a dozen times by now.”

“You can’t die a dozen times.”

“You can if you’re a Buddhist,” Beatrix said helpfully.

Leo smoothed Poppy’s shining hair. “I hope Harry Rutledge is,” he said.

“Why?” Beatrix asked.

“Because there’s nothing I’d rather do than kill him repeatedly.”

Harry received Leo and Cam Rohan in his private library. Any other family in the situation would have been predictable . . . they would have demanded that he do the right thing, and terms of compensation would have been discussed, and arrangements would have been made. Because of Harry’s vast fortune, most families would have accepted the results with good grace. He wasn’t a peer, but he was a man of influence and means.

However, Harry knew better than to expect a predictable response to the situation from either Leo or Cam. They were not conventional, and they would have to be dealt with carefully. That being said, Harry wasn’t worried in the least. He had negotiated over matters of far greater consequence than a woman’s honor.

Pondering the events of the night, Harry was filled with immoral triumph. No, not triumph . . . elation. It was all turning out to be so much easier than he had expected, especially with Michael Bayning’s unanticipated appearance at the Norbury ball. The idiot had practically handed Poppy to Harry on a silver platter. And when an opportunity presented itself, Harry took it.

Besides, Harry felt he deserved Poppy. Any man who allowed scruples to get in the way of having a woman like her was a fool. He recalled the way she had looked in the ballroom, pale and fragile and distraught. When Harry had approached her, there had been no mistaking the relief in her expression. She had turned to him, she had let him take her away.