Her Assassin's Heart - Book 2

Chapter 23

Once Cassandra set foot on the dance floor, she wasn't short of partners. Young men pushed one another and argued over who would have the next dance. At first, it was more than evident that she was reluctant to say 'yes' to any of them, but she quickly adapted and became comfortable, moving about the room with ease.

Graham observed the guests from the edge of the room, swirling his wine thoughtfully. Irene had gone to find Charles shortly after he got her away from Lord Septimus, and Graham was left with himself and his thoughts.

He wished for better company. Quaffing off his drink and wishing it were something stronger, he tried to relax and move to mingle among the crowd again. Old habits died hard.

It wasn't that he found socializing troublesome. Well, with the sorts of conversation one might find in the Fergus ballroom, things would be dull, but that wasn't what kept him silent. When he was with them, he found himself assessing every detail about them in the most peculiar manner. He couldn't stop himself. It was the most ridiculous thing he'd experienced in a long while.

"Hello, Graham." A hand touched his left shoulder, sliding across his back until it rest on his right bicep. "Fancy meeting you here." The voice purred.

"Lady Flora," he only half turned to acknowledge her presence. He'd wanted better company, not. . .oh, forget it. "Here I was presuming my presence could be expected. I am a guest of the Fergus's, and kicking me out before their party wouldn't be very friendly."

Flora threw her head back and laughed more than his words had warranted, rubbing her chest against his arm. She'd married an old man when she was young and had Ben young still when her husband was put in a grave. She had a reputation—a quiet, less-spoken of one because of her money and influence—for getting every important man this side of London into her bed.

"You're absolutely too funny!" She swatted his chest playfully, pressing even closer. "You should become court jester."

"But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of making you laugh." He smiled.

"Oh, Lady Flora! I didn't know you were acquainted with Lord McRoberts!" A voice at his left drew his attention.

"The feeling is mutual, Sophie." Lady Flora's lips drew into a tight smile as she looked at the other woman with obvious distaste.

"Do tell me, Lord McRoberts, why aren't you on the dance floor?" Sophie linked her arm with his, pulling herself closer to him. "Couldn't you find a suitable partner?" The way she stressed 'suitable' made it her feelings toward Lady Flora plain.

"I believe Graham and I are of a similar mind when it comes to dancing: leave it to those who don't have the wit for proper conversation." Flora said with thinly veiled vehemence.

"He doesn't think that at all. Do you?" Sophie's grip on his arm tightened.

"He certainly doesn't need you to tell him what to think!" Flora hissed, reaching across Graham to loosen Sophie's hold. "Perhaps, if I had a husband like yours, I'd feel the need to tell everyone what they were thinking and feeling, but the last thing Graham needs is your help!"

"I beg your pardon, Lady Flora!" Sophie's nails threatened to cut through the material of his dinner jacket. "Maybe if you were actually capable of attracting male attention, you wouldn't feel the need to get after me so."

The sudden tenseness in the atmosphere was almost stifling. Graham raised a brow, eyes darting back and forth between the two women. Their argument was already drawing attention from the other guests, and he caught sight of a few other jealous females heading in their direction. Likely, to find their own piece of him to hang on to. Like hell.