Lord Belgrave’s possessive tone didn’t sit well with her, but Hannah said nothing. It wasn’t as if she intended to go anywhere near the lieutenant. Even so, what right did Belgrave have to dictate her actions?

None whatsoever. The dance was nearly finished, and she was grateful for that. Her headache was growing worse, and she longed for an escape to her room. When the music ended, she thanked Lord Belgrave, but he held her hands a moment longer.

“Lady Hannah, I would be honored if you’d consent to becoming my wife.”

She couldn’t believe he’d asked it of her. Here? In the middle of a ballroom? Hannah’s smile grew strained, but she simply answered, “You’ll have to speak with my father.”

No. No. A thousand times, no.

The baron’s fingers tightened when she tried to pull away. “But what of your wishes? If you did not require the marquess’s permission, what would you say?”

I would say absolutely not.

Hannah kept her face completely neutral. She didn’t like the look in his eyes. There was a desperate glint in them, and she wondered if Belgrave’s fortunes were as secure as he’d claimed. Forcing a laugh she didn’t feel, Hannah managed, “You flatter me, my lord. Any woman would be glad to call you her husband.”

Just not me. But then, a word to her father would take care of that. Although the marquess presented an autocratic façade to his peers, he was softer toward her, probably because she’d never embarrassed him in public or even hinted at rebellion. Obedient and demure, she’d made him proud.

Or at least, that’s what she hoped.

Hannah managed to pry her hand free. Even so, she could feel the baron’s eyes boring into the back of her gown. She walked toward her father and brothers who were standing near the entrance to the terrace. From the serious expressions on their faces, she didn’t want to interrupt the conversation. She took a glass of lemonade and waited outside the ballroom in the darkened shadows near the terrace. It wasn’t good to be standing alone, but she hoped she was near enough to her brothers that no one would bother her.

Everyone else was still inside, dancing and mingling with one another. Her head was aching even more, a dreadful pressure that seemed to spread.

Oh, please, not tonight, Hannah prayed. She’d suffered headaches such as these before, and they were wretched, attacking her until she was bedridden for a full day or longer.

“You don’t look well,” came a male voice from behind her.