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MARCUS RUTHERFORD
“Clayton!” Marcus
Rutherford laughed. “Where the devil have you been? I was
beginning to believe the rumors that you’d dropped off the
face of the earth.”
Whitney listened as the
two men, who were obviously close friends, exchanged
greetings. Lord Rutherford was handsome, and looked to be
about seven and thirty, with piercing blue eyes that spoke
of perceptiveness. Without warning, those blue eyes
leveled on her, inspecting her with unconcealed
admiration. “And who, pray, is this ravishing creature
beside you?” he demanded. “Must I introduce myself to her?
Glancing uncertainly at
Clayton, Whitney was startled to find him gazing down at
her with a look of profound pride. “Whitney,” he said,
“may I present my fiend, Lord Marcus Rutherford – “
Directing a meaningful glance at Whitney’s hand which was
still firmly clasped in Lord Rutherford’s, Clayton
finished, “Marcus, kindly take your hands off my future
wife, Miss Whitney Stone.”
“Whitney?” Marcus
Rutherford repeated. “What an unusual . . .” A slow,
disbelieving smile broke across his face as he stopped in
mid-sentence and stared at Clayton. “Have I heard you
aright?”
Clayton inclined his
head in a slight nod, and Lord Rutherford’s delighted gaze
returned to Whitney. “Come with me, young lady,” he said,
eagerly drawing Whitney’s hand through his arm. “As you
may have noticed, there are about six hundred people down
there all on fire to know who you are.”
When Clayton seemed
perfectly agreeable to letting her go with Marcus
Rutherford, Whitney hastily took matters into her own
hands. “My Lord Rutherford,” she said, her pleading gaze
directed at Clayton. “We – we wish to keep our forthcoming
marriage a secret for a while.”
She looked so distressed
that Clayton reluctantly relinquished his plan to present
her to everyone as his betrothed. “It’s to remain a secret
for a while, Marcus,” he said.
“You must be mad, “ Lord
Rutherford returned, but he released Whitney’s hand.
“You'll never keep this prize of yours a secret for a day.
In fact” – he glanced in the direction of the crowd below
which was now openly watching what was transpiring in the
balcony – “you’ll never manage such a feat for even an
hour.” He waited for a moment, obviously hoping that
Clayton would relent, then turned to leave them, saying
over his shoulder, “You will at least allow me to confide
in Lady Rutherford? She’s already charged me to discover
who this beautiful young woman with you is.” Before
Whitney could object, Clayton nodded his assent.
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