He raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip even as he gave her a wink. “I’m not here to see Lady Diana. I came to see you.”
Her mother’s needles stopped.
“Very kind.” She swallowed as she returned to her seat. “But you needn’t worry about my feelings. I know you only asked me to dance because Diana was already promised for every dance.”
He set up his cup back on its saucer, lowering both to balance on his knee. “Does that happen to you often?”
“What’s that?” She looked to the floor, knowing exactly what he’d meant. She could have cursed herself for revealing such a fact to him. For whatever reason, she felt safe sharing her fears with Chad. As if he wouldn’t like her any less for them. She did not have that same trust with McKenzie.
“You’re very beautiful, you know.” He glanced behind him and she did too. Her mother’s head was bent down as she determinedly continued to knit her single long row.
McKenzie turned back to her, and reaching out his hand, brushed his thumb along the top of her cuff along her gloved hand. The touch was intimate and likely should have sparked excitement but she felt nothing. “That’s very kind of you.”
“I’m not being kind, Lady Cordelia. I’m being honest. You have your own charm. Tell me, can you see without the spectacles?”
What did that have to do with anything? She shifted in her seat as she fixed the spectacles. “Not particularly.”
His smile slipped for a moment, before he pulled the corners of his mouth back up. “Well, no matter. They hold their own charm.”
Why did she get the impression he didn’t mean those words? Not that they mattered. She leaned back, pulling her hand from his grasp. “I’ve always found vision to be preferable over blindness.”
Her mother’s needles ceased clicking and she made a definite tsking noise.
Cordelia’s spine snapped straighter. “Tell me, Lord McKenzie, do you live in London most of the time?”
“Of course,” he answered, relaxing back. “The country isn’t the life for me.”
Cordelia nodded as though she understood, though she didn’t at all. She loved the country with quiet strolls and wide-open spaces and reflective time to think and write. “I see. What don’t you like about it?”
He wrinkled his face in distaste. “What’s a man to do but sit and think? Maybe walk, dreadfully boring.”
She nodded again, thinking she must look ridiculous as her glasses slid down her nose. “And what of your life in London? What sorts of adventures do you partake in here?”
He pressed his lips together. “Fishing for information, are we?”
She shrugged. “Would you care to ask me a question in return? We’re getting to know each other, are we not?” She didn’t bother to mention with each sentence he uttered, she grew more certain, there was no future for them.
“We are and I would.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Tell me about that Marquess who looked rather possessive last night. Is he a serious candidate for your hand?”
Her stomach clenched as she thought about Chad. They’d kissed twice and he’d asked her to marry him. But she still wasn’t entirely certain of the answer. “That depends, I suppose.”
“Depends on what?” a deep voice called from the door. Cordelia would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up and she caught sight of her butler first. Standing with wide eyes in the doorway. Just behind him and a full head taller was Chad.
He locked his gaze on hers.
She pulled her shoulders straighter. “It depends on you.”
Chapter Nine
Malice once again stood outside the Chase residence. This time, however, the bright morning sun shone on him rather than the inky dark night.
He looked up at what he now knew was Cordelia’s window. The dark interior told him little of what might be happening inside.
He had about as much clarity regarding his own feelings. They were dark and shrouded, weighted by the past and murky as he contemplated the future.
But he knew a few facts with certainty. McKenzie was not going to sweep in and steal his chance with Cordelia. It surprised even him that he wanted that chance, but he did. He might not be the wooing type she wanted, but frankly, neither was McKenzie. McKenzie had come across as cold and dangerous, while at least he knew for sure he made her feel warm and desired. She’d said so herself.
Bounding up the steps, he hit the knocker on the door and was immediately seen in.
He heard voices coming from a sitting room to the right. He recognized Cordelia’s light, high, tinkling voice immediately. When he heard the deep rumble of a man, he didn’t have to guess who might already have arrived.
His chest tightened as he followed the butler toward the already open door. They were discussing him. He could hear himself being referenced. He supposed that was good. Even when not in the room, he was a topic of conversation; but still, Cordelia did not sound certain about him at all.
As the butler stepped in to announce him, he caught sight of his frowning little fairy. “That depends, I suppose.”
His jaw clamped shut. Depends? Malice had kissed her senseless last night. How had she not told this man to leave immediately? “Depends on what?” he called, unable to help himself. He hated that she had told McKenzie that. Her words gave the man hope and alerted him to opportunity.
She stared back at him, her eyes unreadable behind her glasses. “That depends on you.”
When he’d first met Cordelia, he’d thought her a malleable woman. She was quiet and often agreeable. But he realized now, behind her façade was a will made of iron. He rather liked it.
His body clenched in awareness and he stepped around the butler, foregoing the introduction. “Well, since I am part of this conversation, I’ll answer Lord McKenzie. I am possessive because I intend to marry Lady Cordelia.” He paused looking to the corner, “With Lord Winthrop’s permission of course.”
Lady Winthrop squeaked from the corner while Cordelia’s cheeks flushed with color, making her look rather invigorated. Desire pulsed through him.
McKenzie stood, his fists clenching. “No one told me the lady was spoken for.”
Cordelia stood too, her eyes darting between the two men. “Really, my lords. This isn’t necessary.”
“Do you consent to be my wife?” Malice asked her, stepping closer. If she agreed, he’d toss this upstart out by his ear. If she didn’t, well, he’d toss him out anyhow but the man would have more cause to put up a fight.
He held his breath, realizing that he wanted her to say yes. He was invested now. He’d sift through his feelings and fears later but right now he wanted Cordelia to be his wife.
“You asked again after all.” Cordelia gave him a soft smile.
“Again?” her mother called from the corner. “You received an offer from a marquess and I wasn’t notified?”
“Not now, Mother,” Cordelia huffed. Rather than push her glasses up, she pulled them off her face. He’d only seen her a few times without them, the very first day they’d met. He’d thought her very pretty then and she still was now, but somehow, the glasses had become part of how he pictured her and he liked her exactly as herself. He didn’t wish her to be different in anyway.
“I’m not sure how many more times I could ask so perhaps you’ll consider answering?” He stepped closer and reached for her hand. “Maybe even give me a different answer this time than the last.”
“Excuse me.” McKenzie stepped forward, moving into Malice’s space. “But you are interrupting a conversation the lady and I were having.”
“Find a new lady,” Malice replied, pushing out his chest. “This one is taken.”
“My lord.” Cordelia touched Malice’s sleeve. “There’s no need for this kind of behavior.”
Taking his eyes from McKenzie, he looked at Cordelia. “Worry not, my fair lady.”
Then McKenzie’s fist sank into his gut and he doubled over, Cordelia’s face growing blurry.<
br />
“Gentlemen,” her mother gasped.
But Cordelia grabbed his shoulder. “If you must fight, do so out in the garden.”
He straightened, just enough to land his own gut punch and McKenzie doubled over too. Malice was only able to just move his head to the left so that McKenzie didn’t butt his forehead into Malice’s skull. “Are you intent upon fighting further?”
“I am,” the other man choked.
“Very well, then.” Malice straightened but he gave Cordelia a small wink. “To the garden.”
Cordelia clapped her hands over her mouth but her eyes twinkled. He knew what she was thinking. She’d never expected two men to fight over her and it appealed to her need for romance. He wasn’t sure he could say what she wanted to hear but take a punch or two? He’d gladly get beat to hell to make her happy. And hopefully his efforts were enough to make her say yes to his proposal. But that begged the question, how was he going to guard his heart?
* * *
In her wildest dreams, deepest fantasies, Cordelia had never imagined two men coming to fisticuffs over her attention. She smoothed her hair as she followed the men down the hall, her mother just behind her. “What are you going to say to the marquess?”
“Not now,” she said over her shoulder. “Can’t you see we have a situation on our hands?” Her voice was a great deal louder than necessary and she could only hope her sisters heard.
Sure enough, not five seconds later, Grace poked her head round a corner. “What’s happening?” Her perfect blonde hair was pulled back with a few curls falling in waves over her shoulder.
Their mother threw her hands in the air. “Two lords are fighting over Cordelia.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “Diana,” she yelled. “Come quickly.” Then she lifted her skirts and sprinted down the hall after them.
Cordelia’s heart thrummed in her chest, excitement pushing her feet faster. This might be the most wonderfully invigorating moment of her life.
The two men stalked ahead of her as the women flitted behind her, their high voices only adding to the excitement.
“Why are you doing this?” Malice growled out.
McKenzie looked back at her before answering. “You can’t just come in here and steal the woman I was wooing.”
Her heart thrummed in her chest and she covered it with both hands. This was most certainly going into the story she wrote. Who would triumph? Should that be the man she chose? She nibbled at her lips, some of her excitement ebbing. What if Chad were hurt? Was that worth a little romance?
She nearly tripped on her own feet. It was a nice gesture, this male posturing, but it didn’t change anything. She didn’t want to marry McKenzie and she’d only say yes to Chad if he expressed some genuine affection for her. In her heart, she already knew whom she wanted to win and what she wanted that person to say at the end.
“Lady Cordelia, I think it best you don’t watch this,” McKenzie called over his shoulder.
Malice gave him a bit of a shove. “Don’t tell her what to do.”
“She needs a responsible man with some modicum of decency. That certainly isn’t you.” McKenzie sneered.
“Oh, and it’s you?” Chad pressed close to the other fellow. “I know about you and why you’re here.”
The men glared at one another and Cordelia did an actual stumble, just catching herself and pushing up her glasses. She was intimately acquainted with all the reasons that Malice might not be ideal, illicit clubs amazingly were one of the least of her concerns. But now that she thought about it, why was McKenzie here?
“Lord McKenzie,” she called, lifting her skirt in an attempt to keep up. “What does Lord Malicorn mean?”
McKenzie spun about, his face set in angry lines that brought her to an abrupt halt. His expression was a bit frightening and she stopped short and looked at Chad, then realized she was hoping for his reassurance that he’d keep her safe.
“He’s simply throwing barbs so that you’ll choose him.”
Her sister bumped into her back and she jolted forward. Chad’s hand shot out to steady her.
Unfortunately, McKenzie took that exact moment to take a wide swing at Chad. McKenzie’s hand clipped Chad’s jaw before he’d let her go to block the punch. He still gripped her arm as he stumbled backwards and started to fall.
She let out a cry, and without thought, wrapped her arms about his neck. They crashed down together, her arms keeping his head from smacking onto the floor but the full weight of their upper bodies fell on her hand and she let out a scream as she heard a distinct crunch and pain shot down her arm.
It throbbed with a burning ache as she let out another cry but the pain began to slip away, fading into a blissful darkness.
Chapter Ten
Damn…Malice’s jaw ached like bloody hell, not that he cared. He’d heard the crunch and now Cordelia lay limp in his arms.
That piece of shite, McKenzie, was gone and around him, three gaggling females crowded about, their noise so constant, he couldn’t discern one voice from another. “Diana,” he gritted out from between his teeth. “Get the doctor. Now.”
He cradled Cordelia’s head as he slowly rocked forward, shifting her weight so that he might sit with her in his lap. “Grace, is that your name?”
The blonde nodded. He was surprised how much she and Cordelia looked alike when Corde didn’t have her glasses on. “Go to the kitchen and fetch anything cold.” They spun and raced for the kitchen. “Lady Winthrop. Can you carefully take her arm and lift it over my head? I want to see what damage has been done.”
“Oh dear,” Lady Winthrop mumbled. “I’m not sure I can. I’ll have to send for my husband.”
Malice didn’t want to wait that long. “You can do it. Where does she look injured?”
Lady Winthrop nibbled her lip as she leaned over him. He nearly choked because she looked exactly as Cordelia did. “Her hand is terribly swollen.”
“All right. Grab her gently by the wrist and elbow and bring the arm over my head. Nice and easy and she won’t feel a thing.”
“Are you certain?”
Lady Winthrop’s voice shook, but she did as he said and soon the hand was tucked between them. He could see that it was already swollen but the bones looked as though they were still in place. His shoulders slumped in relief.
Gingerly, he got to his knees and cradled her against his body as he slowly stood. He wanted to pepper her face with kisses to wake her. She’d been injured while keeping him safe. He couldn’t quite define what that meant to him, but something inside him shifted. He’d known that he was attracted to her, that he even held some affection for her, but who had ever put themselves in harm’s way to protect him?
“Lady Winthrop, shall I carry Cordelia to her room?”
“Oh, her room. Is it proper?” The other woman had both hands on her cheeks. “I mean, I suppose it’s fine. She isn’t even awake but—”
“Perhaps you can escort me. I don’t know the way anyhow.” He gave the woman an encouraging smile.
She nodded, her hands threading together. “Will she be all right?”
He gave her a quick nod of affirmation. “As far as I can see, it’s a mild break. She’ll be fine.” His insides clenched. This had better be true because he’d only just found her and besides, she’d yet to reply to his offer of marriage.
Lady Winthrop reached out a trembling hand and touched Cordelia’s forehead. “She’s my kindest daughter. Would give every possession she had to make her sisters happy.”
He’d seen that. Last night at the ball, she’d been completely willing to step aside to allow Diana a chance with McKenzie.
“Chad,” she whispered, stirring a bit in his arms. “Is that you?”
“It’s me, sweetheart,” he replied, brushing his cheek to the top of her head.
“Are you all right?” she asked, tipping her head back to look up at him.
He looked down at her half open eyes. “I’m fine. Don’t you worry abo
ut me. It’s you we’ve got to mend.”
“Your head…” she mumbled.
“It’s not my first punch to the jaw. Likely won’t be my last.”
She shook her head. “No, no…the back. I tried to make sure it didn’t hit the floor. I…” her voice tapered off as her eyes squinted to study him.
His insides clenched. She’d gotten injured deliberately to protect him. He’d suspected that, of course, but to hear her say it. “Thank you, Corde, for protecting me. Now shush while I take care of you. How is your hand?”
“It hurts,” she answered, leaning her head into his chest. “A great deal.”
“The doctor will be here soon.”
She tilted her head back to look up at him again. “Did Lord McKenzie leave?”
Irritation sizzled down his spine. That man needed a serious beating. The sort that would remind him to be a gentleman and not go around throwing punches in a lady’s company. “He did. But don’t worry. I’ll take care of him later.”
“Don’t bother.” Cordelia closed her eyes and tucked into his arm again. “He was upset because he knew he wasn’t going to win against you.”
That made him smile. He’d already offered for her hand and so he bent down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “That’s kind of you to say, and I appreciate it a great deal, but I’m still teaching that man a lesson in the very near future.”
“Oh do,” Lady Winthrop sniffed. “We can say one thing for certain, however. I might have thought him a good candidate if not for today. His family has excellent bloodlines.”
Cordelia gave an audible sigh and he pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Mother, bloodlines? Really?” Then she looked at him. “What did you mean when you said to him that you knew his motives?”
He frowned. “Just that I’ve heard he carries a great deal of debt at several clubs.” He didn’t mention his own establishment of course, but Cordelia’s eyes widened.
“He’s looking for a purse,” she whispered. “No wonder he was so quick to switch from Diana to me.”
Marquess of Malice: Lords of Scandal Book 2 Page 6