Courting Magic (Kat, Incorrigible #4)(26)

Nearly…but not quite.

Mr. Packenham’s rant trailed off as he looked down at my hand, his eyebrows rising. “I say.” A perfectly dreadful smile spread across his face. “Miss Stephenson, you’re suddenly a good deal more friendly, aren’t you? Finally succumbed to my charms, have you? I knew it was only a matter of time.”

The dance floor was beginning to fill up with couples. Alexander and Lord Lanham were nowhere in sight. But I couldn’t wait for them.

Without proof, the Order would never listen to me. So I would simply have to get some…no matter what it took.

“You were right,” I said as I smiled at the rogue I’d been hunting all night long. “And you’ve finally convinced me. Mr. Packenham, I would love to go out into the gardens with you.”





CHAPTER TEN


“Well, I say!” said Mr. Packenham. He took two quick, furtive looks around the room. “No time like the present, eh?” Abandoning the dance circles as they began to form around us, he started for the glass doors at the far end of the room, moving at a quick trot and pulling me with him.

I was only too happy to allow myself to be pulled.

Unfortunately, neither of us had reckoned with my family.

“Ah, Packenham.” Frederick Carlyle strolled, apparently casually, to stand between us and the open doors. His lips were curved in a pleasant smile, but his blue eyes looked surprisingly dangerous as they fastened on my dance partner. “Going somewhere?”

Oh, blast it! I shot Frederick a Stay out of this! look, but of course he ignored it. Older brothers—of all types—never knew when to keep their noses out of my business.

Worse yet, he wasn’t alone. I stifled a groan as Mr. Collingwood joined us, his normally placid countenance looking surprisingly stern.

The truth was, when I had helped Angeline and Elissa to marry their true loves, I had never considered the fact that I’d be adding even more overprotective older brothers to my family. Thank goodness at least Charles was still in Devon. Having all three of them at the ball tonight might have driven me completely mad.

As I narrowed my eyes warningly at Frederick and Mr. Collingwood, Mr. Packenham gave them both a rather sickly grin. “Miss Stephenson was a trifle overheated,” he explained. “Thought I’d take her outside for a breath of fresh air.”

“Hmm,” said Mr. Collingwood. He crossed his arms, giving my partner a comprehensive up-and-down look. I could tell exactly when he took in the signs of Mr. Packenham’s obvious intoxication. His lips curled in the first sneer I’d ever seen from my sweet, kind-hearted brother-in-law.

“How thoughtful of you,” Frederick said to Mr. Packenham. His own smile was looking decidedly less pleasant than it had a moment ago. “But you needn’t exert yourself, old chap. I’m certain her sisters would be only too happy to look after her if she isn’t well enough for your dance.”

“I am!” I said hastily. “I would love to dance.”

Both of my brothers-in-law turned to stare at me. Frederick raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Are you certain? Because if you aren’t feeling well…”

“We’d be happy to escort you back to your sisters,” said Mr. Collingwood, glaring—yes, positively glaring!—at Mr. Packenham. I could hardly believe it.

But I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of reluctant affection for them both, despite the maddening circumstances. Unlike Stepmama, both of my sisters’ husbands were clearly eager to help me escape an unwanted dance partner—and in any other situation, I would have been only too happy to take the opening they’d offered me.

Now, though, I gritted my teeth in a smile. “I’m feeling much better,” I assured them all. “I’m quite certain that dancing would refresh me better than anything else.”

Mr. Collingwood’s frown deepened.

Frederick said, “We’ll be sure to keep an eye on you throughout the dance. Just in case you should feel faint,” he added sweetly, with his gaze fixed on my dance partner.

I rolled my own eyes at both of my brothers-in-law. “Yes, thank you very much,” I said. “But if you wouldn’t mind…”

This time I was the one dragging Mr. Packenham behind me as I led him back onto the dance floor. He kept sneaking glances back at my brothers-in-law and tugging at his cravat as if it had grown too tight. “I, er…that is, perhaps it isn’t such a good idea after all,” he said. “I mean…”

“Oh, don’t be absurd,” I whispered, as I took my place in the circle beside him. “You aren’t going to let them intimidate you, are you?”

“Ah…well…” He swallowed visibly. “Thing is, you see, I didn’t realize you were quite so…that is, Carlyle and Collingwood are rather more involved than I’d…well…”

“I understand,” I said.

And I did. I understood exactly why he’d started out by robbing servant girls. That had confused me when I’d first heard of it—after all, how valuable could their scant possessions have been, to merit robbery by a witch who clearly moved in higher social circles? But of course, they had possessed a quality that was even more appealing for a man so embittered over his own comparative lack of social and financial power: vulnerability.