page_228 < previous page page_228 next page > Page 228 searching the shadows for the man she had glimpsed leaving the ballroom. She had heard his voice drift from a group of men standing in one comer of the ballroom, just a few words caught above the din of conversation and music. Still, she was certain the voice belonged to the same man she had overheard in the Merrivale garden. She had trailed him through the crowded room without getting a good look at his face. To be of any help, she had to get a better look at him. She hurried along the length of the terrace. Several couples had taken refuge in the moonlight, each guarded by a chaperon. Yet a slender, fair-haired man was not among them. Where was he? She paused on the top of the two stone steps leading down into the gardens. She studied her surroundings, searching for the blackguard. The walled expanse behind the house had been divided into several different areas by a series of hedges and walkways leading off a winding, gravel-lined path. Lanterns dangled from cords strung along the pathways, casting soft golden light against the shrubs and statuary placed about the gardens. A man stepped into view near the first bend of the path. It was the same man she had followed from the ballroom. ''Did you need a little air, Lady Marisa?" Marisa's heart plowed into the wall of her chest at the rumble of that deep masculine voice. She pivoted and found Clayton stalking her. He paused a foot in front of her, so close that the crisp scent of citrus and herbs brushed her senses, sending heat swirling through her blood. Although the moon showed only half its face this evening, it was enough to illuminate the sharp lines and angles of Clayton's fierce expression. His mood apparently had not improved in the two days since she had last seen him in her drawing room. Still, she didn't  < previous page page_228 next page >