She curled her hands into fists even as her heart thumped hard in her ears. “And what’s the worst that can happen, Mr. Cavendish?”
“Remember, Miss,” he said with a taunting curl to his lips, “you chose the wrong side.”
She watched him go, glad he was getting out of her sight. What a loser, she thought as she set course for the great hall once again. Should she tell Gray that he threatened her? No, she didn’t want to leave them pitted against each other even more than they already were.
She finally reached the dining hall doors and pulled them open. She hated entering alone with all eyes on her. She wished the marquess had waited for her.
With a slight shrug, she stepped inside. Her gaze sailed immediately to the small crowd in the northwest corner. A dozen women pushed in around a man standing by one of the windows. The marquess.
The ladies all giggled, sounding like turkeys waiting to be fed.
Aria huffed a little and ventured closer. If he was saying something funny, shouldn’t she hear it since he barely cracked a smile most of the time?
“Oh, Lord Dartmouth, the good Lord was certainly smiling on the day you were born.”
Aria scowled at the red-head and her perfect curls like grape vines hanging over her ears.
“With the way Lord Dartmouth dances, I do not think the Almighty had anything to do with him.”
Against her will, Aria recalled him dancing, grinding his hips in the air and smiling at the crowd as if he were grinding them into something else.
“Clare!” Two of the ladies admonished. “Do not say such blasphemous things.”
“Will you dance for us now, my lord?” one wench called out.
“Yes, please do!” cried another.
Aria fumed. Was he the most careless man she had ever met? Didn’t she warn him last night that he needed rest? Was he really going to dance for these hens? What about her key? What about Mr. Cavendish’s threats? So what if she wasn’t going to mention them to the marquess. It still bothered her. And now she was supposed to watch him dance—
“Sadly, ladies, I’ve been warned not to dance for a few days.”
Aria’s heart warmed—just a little. At least he was taking her advice.
“Warned by who?” one of the hens clucked.
“A frightening woman who can fell any man in this hall,” the marquess quipped and took a step forward, parting the crowd of women. He saw Aria and smiled. Every lady surrounding them, including Sarah, stared agape. Was the marquess truly, genuinely smiling at someone? A woman?
Suddenly their stunned expressions turned sour.
One of them whispered as he passed them on his way to Aria. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, his smile still intact but with a touch of ice. “Lady Millicent, see yourself out, and don’t return.
“Pardon me, my lord?” Lady Millicent balked.
She said a few other things, but Gray didn’t pay attention to her. He kept his eyes on Aria as he started back toward her, and all she could do was feel thankful that he didn’t treat her with such disregard. Then again, she hadn’t called another woman a derogatory name, and simply because the marquess smiled at her.
“Good morn to you, Lady Aria,” he greeted in front of the others and let his smile linger on her.
There was something about him saying her name. Even with the courteous title of Lady, her name sounded personal when he spoke it. If she liked the way he called her MissDarling, her first name felt like an intimate caress. How could she be so angry with him a minute ago, and now she was fawning all over him for saying her name? Ridiculous! The heart certainly was a traitorous thing.
“You’re certainly at home with an audience,” she remarked, looking him over from head to foot.
His smile remained and he even added a quiet chuckle to it. From the corner of her eye, Aria saw Sarah Gable wiping her eyes and smiling.
“I was questioning them about the whereabouts of my key.”
His explanation pulled Aria’s full attention to him. At times, like now, he was incredibly impossible to read. “Thank you,” she said, speaking what was immediately on her heart.
His smile warmed and then he shifted his gaze to the gaping women watching him. “Have a pleasant day, ladies,” he said dismissively.