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apart. Then Sheldon was snatched from her side, right before she heard the thud of his body hitting something solid.
    “I doona know who ye are,” Alynwick growled in his unmistakable brogue, “but yer hands are no’ where they belong.”
    The earl tried to reply, but his rasping voice alerted Elizabeth to the fact he couldn’t take in air. The wave of shock from the crowd told her that the Highland beast was either choking him with his bare hands, or had thrust his arm, which she knew was as thick as a tree trunk, against poor Sheldon’s windpipe.
    “Stop this at once,” she demanded in a hiss. “You’re making a scene.”
    She could feel when those dark eyes landed on her.
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    TEMPTATION & TWILIGHT
    “ I’m making a scene?” he retorted as if accusing her of making tongues wag.
    Prickles of awareness raced down her spine, and Elizabeth knew the cause stemmed from the fact that every guest of the Sumners had their eyes fixed firmly on her and the mad marquis. “I insist you stop this now, Alynwick. Everyone will talk.”
    “Doona worry, lass, we’ll give them somethin’ tae talk about, because yer leavin’ with me.”
    “The devil I am!” she yelped in outrage. “Alynwick, dear God, pay attention to what you’re doing. I can hear Sheldon struggling for air.”
    “Sheldon, is it?”
    The sound of tussling, of fine wools brushing together, came to her ears, and she thought about throwing herself forward, hopefully between them. But if she fell to her knees, or worse, the floor, it would cause even more of a scene.
    “Here now, what’s all this fuss about?” The masculine growl that came next Elizabeth was relieved to hear.
    “Sod off, Sussex,” Alynwick muttered.
    “Come now, my lord,” her brother said. His voice was smooth and light, but Lizzy heard the edge of warning in it. “We needn’t have such violence here.” It was a subtle warning to the marquis. The Brethren Guardians, of which her brother and the marquis were both members, did not need this sort of notoriety. Indeed, just by coming to break up the pair, Adrian was putting the Guardians at risk—because no one knew that Sussex, Alynwick and Lord Black shared more than the most polite and distant acquaintance with each other. If the marquis didn’t cease this madness, then everything they had fought to keep from the prying eyes of the ton might very well be in jeopardy.
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    “Murder at the Musicale,” Sussex drawled. “I can read the headlines in the morning papers. I doubt you’re interested in giving the masses something other than sugar to sweeten their morning tea.”
    Alynwick growled something in that familiar beastly way of his. That was followed by another rustle, a rasping gasp and a brush of masculine-scented air that swept past her—Alynwick being shaken off his lordship.
    “Apologies, Sheldon. I am quite certain that the Marquis of Alynwick did not mean to introduce himself in such a way.”
    “The hell I didn’t!”
    “My lord,” Elizabeth whispered, moving a step toward the rasping earl and reaching out for what she thought might be his arm. “Are you all right? Can I summon a footman to fetch you something? A drink, perhaps?”
    “Don’t even think to touch him in my presence,” said a dark, menacing voice in her ear. The sound made her shiver, as did the mysterious scent of his Scotch-laced breath washing over her. “If you doona want him torn tae pieces, leave him be.”
    She didn’t want this—the marquis standing behind her, crowding her—and she stiffened, discovered the safe barriers she always erected when she found herself in his company. “You are nothing but an animal,” she snapped, careful to make certain no one but Alynwick could hear her outburst. “Unhand me this instant.” But the