“I’m afraid with my commitments, I never have time for rides in the park.” He tried to look sorry, but all he felt was relief. The look of annoyance on her face doubled his relief. When the bloody hell would this dance be over?
He glanced down the line again where Lydia danced with Mr. Berger. She looked over at him and when their eyes met he nearly lost his footing. He frowned, causing her to raise her eyebrows. The neckline on that gown was entirely too low, and he might have to remind Mr. Berger where Lydia’s face was because his eyes kept wandering below her chin.
Miss Kathleen was asking him another question and he was ready to walk off the floor. He shrugged and smiled, tapping his ear, hoping that would dissuade her from asking anything else. Mercifully, within minutes the musical piece ended, and he escorted the young girl back to her mother. Mumbling something about needing to see a friend across the room, he bowed and took his leave.
He approached Lydia who stood with two other women, fanning herself. After being introduced to Lady Marion and Miss Parker, he said, “I am up for a drink, what say you?”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.” Lydia turned to her two companions. “Would you care to walk with us to the refreshment table?”
They both declined, and he took Lydia’s arm. “I think we should have a discussion about your evening gown.”
Lydia drew back and turned toward him. “Pardon me? I’m not quite sure what you mean. Or, actually I think I do know what you mean and I want to know why you think you have the right to suggest anything about my apparel?”
Dante ran his finger along the inside of his neckcloth. “I just think if we are to work on an assignment, it might go better if your mode of dress was a little bit more. . .”
She narrowed her eyes. “More what?”
“Subdued.” He took her arm again and they continued. “We need to be inconspicuous so we can listen to the Ambassador’s conversations. With the attention you are getting, we won’t be able to get near him.”
“And I suppose all the ladies dropping everything, including themselves at your feet does not garner attention?”
Dante picked up two glasses of warm lemonade and handed one to Lydia, who studied it so long before taking it that he was sure she was about to dump it on his head.
“The Ambassador is interested in you.”
“I know.”
“I’m not sure if you understand what I mean. He is interested in a certain way.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Dante. Out with it. He wants to bed me.”
He should have known better than to attempt to speak with Lydia in anything but explicit terms. “Yes. That is precisely what I meant. The entire time we were in his company his eyes never rose above your neckline.”
“Neither did Mr. Berger’s.” Lydia tossed her head. “I refuse to worry about men who cannot keep their eyes where they belong. And furthermore, there is nothing at all immodest about this gown. In fact, I think it looks quite nice.”
Dante downed the rest of his lemonade. “It looks much more than nice,” he growled. With a smirk, he added, “Um, your brain that is.”
Just then the orchestra started up the first waltz of the evening. Dante took the glass from Lydia’s hand and placed it on the table. “My dance, I believe, Miss
Sanford?”
Damn, he hated how good she felt in his arms. Warm, soft, with an intriguing scent wafting from her hair. He wanted to glance down to admire what all the rest of the men had been gaping at, but he was quite certain he would get a dressing down after the comments about the Ambassador and Mr. Berger.
No surprise to him, she was light on her feet, followed him flawlessly, and it felt as though they’d danced together for years. He attempted a few twists and turns and she followed perfectly. Even though he hadn’t spent time at ton events, there was nothing wrong with his dancing skills.
He pulled her in close for a turn and felt her intake of breath. He studied her face and realized she was having thoughts similar to his. Dangerous territory here for him.
“You’re holding me too tight.” Lydia attempted to push back, but he didn’t allow it.
“Crowded dancefloor,” he mumbled.
He looked over her head and saw the Ambassador and another man leave the ballroom through the French doors. He maneuvered them past three other couples, swung her around and opened the French doors at the same time.
“What? What are you doing?”
He took her arm in his and leaned close to her ear. “The Ambassador just left through this door with another man.”
Dante looked over the balustrade. The two men were strolling the pathway but did not seem to be talking. He moved Lydia in the same direction. “Come.”
They walked quickly and quietly. The two men stopped and sat on a stone bench. Dante pulled Lydia along another pathway that seemed to wind directly behind where they sat.
They ended up close enough to hear their exchange. They were speaking, but in a foreign language. Lydia held her finger up to her lips and moved closer. She leaned in and listened, her brows furrowed in concentration. After a few minutes, she backed, up shook her head and moved to return the way they came.
Once they had returned to the main path, she said, “They were speaking German. But it was nothing of importance. All they seemed to be discussing were food and parties. The Ambassador was comparing events he’d attended in Germany to those here in England.”
“That seems to be an odd subject for two men to be talking about, alone, outside a ballroom.”
Lydia shrugged. “Perhaps the Ambassador is lonely. It appeared the man with him had just arrived from Germany and was recently assigned to the Embassy here in London. You know how difficult it can be to have any sort of a conversation in a crowded ballroom.”
They walked a bit farther until they arrived at a small pergola. They climbed the two steps and settled on a wooden bench. Lydia took in a deep breath, drawing his attention once more to her breasts. “It’s so peaceful out here. As much as I enjoy balls and other events, I do try to take a break from the festivities and stroll in the gardens when I can.”
The scant moonlight cast a shadow on her face, giving her skin a silver glow. She turned to him, her mouth opened as if to say something. Then she stopped and tilted her head. “What?”
“Nothing.” He smiled. “Just this.” He pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his. Yes. Just as wonderful as he’d remembered. Her mouth was soft, sweet, warm and moist. When she didn’t pull back and smack him in the face again, he took the kiss deeper, nudging her lips to open and accept him fully.
He groaned and pulled her flush against him, feeling her lush breasts pressed up against his chest. Just as things became interesting, a woman’s cry rent the air.
6
Lydia followed Dante as he rushed down the two steps from the pergola and headed down the path to where Miss Kathleen sat on the ground, holding her foot and moaning. Young Lord Belford, a lad new to his title, hovered over her.
“What happened?” Dante said looking back and forth between them.
They had begun to gather a crowd when Lydia reached them. She bent over Miss Kathleen, careful to keep the bottom of her gown off the damp grass. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes, I think I twisted my ankle.”
Glancing around at a nervous looking Lord Belford, then back to Miss Kathleen, she said, “Where is your mother? You should not be out here alone.”
“I wasn’t alone,” the girl moaned. “I was with Lord Belford.”
“That’s even worse,” Lydia mumbled. She put her hands under the girl’s arms and lifted her. She cried as her foot hit the ground. She had obviously damaged her ankle.
“What happened?”
Miss Kathleen wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “We were merely strolling and my foot hit a rock and I stumbled and fell.
Apparently Lord Belford hadn’t taken very good care of the girl if she went down after a slight stumble. Dante
was busy talking to Lord Belford, and from the look on Dante’s face, he was offering some sage advice to the young lord about taking innocent young ladies for a stroll in the garden with the entire ton a few steps away. More than one hurried wedding had taken place with those conditions. With a pat on Belford’s back from Dante, the man turned and made a quick exit from the garden.
“I will fetch her mother,” Dante said, also making a fast escape.
Lydia wrapped her arm around Miss Kathleen’s back and moved her to a stone bench a few steps from where they stood. She settled next to the girl awaiting Miss Kathleen’s mother.
“I must offer advice to you that I’m sure your mother has told you, but maybe coming from me, you might actually listen.” She pushed wayward curls back from the girl’s forehead that had fallen during her mishap.
“Do not go into gardens with a young man. A stroll on the patio in full sight of the rest of the ballroom is fine. But you are looking for trouble if you wander farther away.”
“Lord Belford did nothing wrong,” the girl said.
“Perhaps because you weren’t here long enough. As I said, you may or may not take heed to my words, but foolish actions can have life-long consequences.”
Just then Lady Wilson came flying down the steps to where her daughter sat. “Oh, my dear. Whatever were you doing out here?”
“Just taking some fresh air mother.” The girl was smart enough not to mention she was escorted by a gentleman.
Her mother tsked. “Your father has sent for the carriage. He will be here in a thrice to help you.”
Dante moved toward Lydia. “I believe this is a good time for us to depart.”
“Yes.” She took his arm, and they made their way up the steps and through the French doors. Once they located their hostess for the evening, and bid her goodnight, they left and settled into Dante’s carriage.
“Not much gained tonight,” Dante said as he stared out the window at the darkness. Being outside the City there were few lights, with only the pale moonlight to guide the driver.
“No, that’s true. However, I really thought the man who walked out to the garden with the Ambassador might be the one.”
Dante shrugged. “Just because they didn’t discuss anything of interest to us, there is still the possibility he is our man. If they are both missing Germany, a conversation on the differences between the two countries would seem normal.”
“I agree.”
Once they grew silent, Lydia’s mind wandered back to the kiss they’d shared in the pergola before Miss Kathleen interrupted them. She really should not have allowed that. They were partners in a Home Office assignment. They had a job to do.
She had no interest in any sort of a permanent arrangement with a man. Although she had to admit that as the years continued to pass, the idea of a dalliance did hold appeal. Truthfully, Dante was the first man with whom she’d ever considered such a thing. Could it be because she was older, or because the attraction she felt toward him and he toward her was putting those ideas into her head? But she certainly did not want a husband. Nor did Dante want a wife.
Bringing her mind back to why they were together to begin with, she said, “Our next event is two days from now. It is the musicale at the Price home. I believe their two daughters, Miss Amy and Miss Margaret are performing.”
Dante dropped his head in his hand and groaned. He looked sideways at her. “A musicale? How will we eavesdrop there?”
“We can see who approaches the Ambassador, and who he seeks out before and after the event.”
“This is by far the hardest assignment I’ve ever had.” He rested his head against the squab and stared at the ceiling.
Lydia drew herself up. “Because I am your partner?”
He rolled his head toward her and offered that irresistible-to-most-women smile. “Not at all, Miss Sanford. I must admit you are better looking—and possess a far better brain, I find I need to add—than any of the other partners I’ve worked with.”
She glowed with his compliment and then scowled. Why did his approval mean so much to her? He was a scoundrel, the possessor of a bad reputation. He owned and operated a gaming club. He was arrogant, supercilious, and dangerous to her.
“I do appreciate the night off, however. My brother will be glad, I am sure, to have my assistance tomorrow night.”
Just as the carriage came to a stop in front of her home, she had a wonderful idea. “I have a favor to ask.”
Dante stopped as he was reaching for the door. “What is that?”
Lydia cleared her throat. “I would love to see the Rose Room.”
“No.” He opened the door and stepped out.
She sat stubbornly in her seat while he remained outside. “Why not?”
He reached for her hand and rather than be tugged from the vehicle like a recalcitrant child, she stepped out and took his arm.
“Ladies are not allowed in the club.” They started up the steps.
“Why not?”
They reached the top step and the front door opened. “Just give me a minute, please, James.”
The butler nodded and stepped away from the door, leaving it unlatched, but closed.
Dante crossed his arms over his chest. “My brothers and I don’t feel it’s a proper place for ladies. The only women allowed are those who don’t fit that appellation.”
“Well. That is certainly unfair.”
“Why would you want to see the club?”
Lydia shrugged. “Curiosity. Now that I am older, I find a lot of restrictions placed upon ladies are antiquated.”
Dante stood with his hands on his hips. “I can offer a compromise.”
“Yes?”
“I will bring you to my club before it opens. You can have a look around.
“No.”
His brows rose. “No?”
“No. I want to see it when there are people there. Playing.”
The more she thought about it, the more anxious she was to see the place. The Rose Room had a reputation among the ton as one of the best clubs in London. Although not a known fact when it first opened, now most everyone was aware that the Earl of Huntington was one of the owners. That had attached quite a bit of notoriety and curiosity to the place.
“Driscoll’s wife worked there. As a dealer.”
“How did you know that?”
She grinned at his scowl. “I work as a spy, remember?”
Dante offered a very deep and exaggerated sigh. “Very well. Be ready at eight o’clock tomorrow night. I will escort you through the back door and up to the second floor where the offices are. There is an area where you can stand and observe the floor without being seen.”
Lydia grinned. “See. There is always a solution to any problem.”
Dante rested his hands on her shoulders. “Yes. But the solution to some problems tend to be worse than the problem itself.” With those cryptic words he touched his lips briefly to her forehead and hurried down the steps.
There was no doubt in Dante’s mind that he’d taken leave of his senses almost from the minute he’d first laid eyes upon Miss Lydia Sanford.
Yes, she was beautiful. No, she was not a giggling debutante. Yes, she was smart, bold, witty, and gracious. Had he been in the market for a wife, and she for a husband, they would make an excellent match. But he wasn’t, and she wasn’t. However, she was certainly worldly enough and old enough to indulge in a brief affair.
He pushed to the back of his mind the thought that an affair with Lydia would not be brief. The fire and passion he felt in her body each time he’d kissed her told him it would take quite a long time to have his fill of her.
If ever.
These thoughts ruminated through his mind the next evening as he made his way up the steps to her townhouse to escort her to the club.
He wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake by taking her to his place of business. They should really keep their contact strictly professional and not become involved in any other
way. With those mixed feelings, he dropped the knocker on the door and it swiftly opened.
“Mr. Rose, Miss Sanford awaits you in the drawing room. If you would follow me.” The strange little butler led him up the stairs to the first floor, then down the corridor to the drawing room.
Lydia sat on a settee sipping a glass of sherry. She stood as he entered. “Good evening. I thought you might want a drink before we left.”
Dante nodded and walked to the sideboard where an array of liquor bottles sat. “Ordinarily I do not drink before I work, but since I will not allow a lady to drink by herself. . .”
Once he poured two fingers of brandy into a snifter, he joined her on the settee. Swirling the brown liquid around, he said, “I suggest we travel in your carriage so you can return when you wish. I stay until after the club closes.”
Lydia shook her head. “No. If this is to be my only visit to the famous Rose Room, I want to stay all night.”
His brows rose.
She blushed. “I mean until the club closes.”
Dante took a sip of his drink. “I thought for a minute you knew we had a bedroom there and wished to make use of it.” He grinned. “I would be more than happy to join you, of course. Good manners and all that.”
Dante wished the words back immediately. He’d just gone through a self-lecture on keeping their relationship on a professional basis. Truth be known, never having a relationship with a woman that did not involve carnal pursuits he was out of his territory, so he was bound to make mistakes.
Lydia finished her sherry and placed the glass on the table in front of her. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Rose, but I’m afraid I must decline.”
“Ah. I am not surprised.” He downed his brandy and stood. She turned and headed to the door and he followed her downstairs to the entrance hall, all the time admiring the sway of her lovely backside.
The black satin dress she wore, fitted to her curvaceous body, with small cap sleeves had his mouth watering. Some sort of sparkles had been sewn to the bodice and where the gown wrapped tightly against her stomach to gather in the back into a slight bustle.
An Inconvenient Arrangement: Rose Room Rogues ~ Book Three Page 5
