"Adam, darling, perhaps we could visit the card room," said Louisa. "I believe Mrs. Ormsley said she would be there tonight. You don't mind, do you? I know how tedious you find dancing."
"Are you thinking of me, or of yourself?" teased Adam. Louisa had a fondness for gaming that he found quite charming. She took so much pleasure in the activity, and though she seldom won, risking money made her curiously excited, and Adam usually found himself well rewarded for her losses later in bed.
Louisa pouted prettily. "If you are minded to be unpleasant about it..." she murmured.
Adam laughed and drew her close, his hand slipping inside her domino to caress the side of her breast.
"We shall do anything you desire, my dear. I am yours to command."
Louisa smiled prettily, and the pair made their way to the card room. There Louisa found Mrs. Ormsley and Sir Jonathan Salter at play, and she moved quickly up to the table.
"Do you mind, Adam?" she asked. "You know how I love basset."
"Indeed I do, my love," said Adam with a grin. "Play to your heart’s content. I believe I may take a stroll in the fresh air, but I will be back shortly." He placed a rouleau of guineas on the table before her. "Best of luck, darling," he said.
He strolled through the crowded card room and re-entered the ballroom. The brightly clothed crowd continued to dance, and there was a small commotion at the far end of the room, where some gentlemen appeared to be chasing a lady of less than impeccable virtue. Adam made a mental note to watch carefully over Louisa; this was no place for a gently bred woman to be left alone. As he prepared to go outside, a woman perched on a settee not far away caught his eye. She was holding court with a bevy of gentlemen, all of whom appeared to be hanging on her every word. A domino of sky-blue silk covered her white gown, and silver embroidery glittered on her underskirt. The simple richness of the ornament stood out, making other women appear vulgarly over-dressed. She seemed somehow familiar to him, and then he caught the glint of her unpowdered red-gold hair and recognized the flash of brilliant blue eyes behind the mask. It was the lady he had seen riding in the park earlier that day. Intrigued, he drew closer.
"Don't be impertinent, Roland," she was saying, tapping a gentlemen on the cheek with her fan. "You should treat me with the respect due a married lady."
The gentleman dropped to his knees by her side. "What can I do to earn your forgiveness?"
She looked at him calculatingly. Another gentleman laughed. "It is his fortune she'll be having," he declared loudly.
"No, for I have one of my own," said the lady. "I have no need for money. I do not believe there is anything I need from you at all, Roland."
The gentleman clutched his heart in mock despair. "Oh, cruel damsel. You wound me to the quick!"
"Pish," said the woman. She made a sweeping gesture. "You think only of yourselves, all of you. I am but a diversion for you."
Another gentleman came forward and took her dainty hand. "On the contrary, you are the sun around which we mere planets revolve. Without your presence we would have neither light nor warmth."
The woman laughed again, tilting her head prettily on its slender neck, seeming to consider his words. "What a pretty speech. I think you win the prize for tonight!" She took a flower from her hair and presented it to him mockingly. He accepted it with a deep box and pressed it his lips to it before tucking it into his buttonhole.
On an impulse, Adam approached the group, carefully sliding his mask down over his face. While his heart was totally Louisa's, he told himself, this woman was very intriguing. She had a sparkling quality that set her apart from the others. He bowed deeply before her.
"Do you have room for one more admirer, my lady?" he asked. "Or do you suffer from a surfeit of adoration? I would be honored if you would allow me to join you."
Her eyes widened behind her mask as her eyes ran over his broad shoulders and well-muscled legs. One hand fluttered for a moment at her side, and then she regained her composure. "What a handsome gentleman, to be sure. He puts all of you to shame," she informed her circle of admirers. "From whence have you sprung, sir?"
"I have been absent from England for some years," replied Adam. "But I regret having been away, since I have not until now met you."
"Another pretty speech! And from a new admirer. I find you have piqued my interest. Do you have a name, sir?"
Adam bowed low over the delicate hand extended to him and pressed a kiss to it. His flirtatious spirit rose in response to her teasing tone. "I believe I must decline to name myself," he said. "But I have come to lay my heart at your feet."
The lady's fan flew open and she hid behind it, her eyes dancing. "I find I am intrigued," she said. "I believe I will allow you to escort me to obtain some refreshment; these gentlemen who surround me no longer amuse me."
Her gallants protested in mock dismay, but she stood and took Adam's arm. "I will be back in a little while. Pray, dance with some of the poor neglected ladies in my absence."
Adam led her onto the terrace and obtained a glass of negus, which she accepted with a charming smile. She leaned back on the railing and looked at him closely, her fan waving delicately back and forth.
"And so I have a new admirer. You are very mysterious, sir."
Adam smiled and moved so that he stood next to her. Her delicate scent, like flowers after the rain, floated up to him. "A little mystery makes life more exciting, don't you think?"
She shrugged. "Perhaps. But a woman must be careful. If there are too many unnamed men in her life she might get confused."
"Then you will have to dismiss all the other gentlemen and concentrate on me," said Adam promptly.
"But you are not as secretive as you think you are. I believe that I could guess your name," she ventured, her dimples flashing.
"Do you think so?" said Adam. "You set yourself a difficult task. I am not well-known here."
"If I can name you," said the woman, "Will you give me that pretty diamond that twinkles in your cravat?"
Adam leaned towards her. "And what shall you give me if you fail?"
"Ah, a wager! What would you like to have from me?" she asked archly.
"Only the bow that nestles so sweetly above your ear," replied Gravesmere, placing his hand over his heart.
"An unequal exchange. You are very confident that you will win," declared the woman. "And now I shall see if I know you, after all.” Her eyes twinkled up at him from behind her mask. “Are you perhaps the Duke of Gravesmere?"
Adam's eyes widened in shock. "How do you know me? I would remember you if we had ever met before."
She glanced away, one rosy fingertip tracing the pattern on her fan. "But you see, I am acquainted with your wife," she said slowly. "I think perhaps you should not be flirting with an unknown woman at a public ball."
Adam, taken aback, laughed harshly. "I do as I please, and my wife can do as she pleases. And it is my pleasure to be here with you in the moonlight."
The dimples appeared again. "Then perhaps I will not turn you away. Although I would hate to hurt poor Allegra. She is a sweet child."
"Allegra is nothing to me," said Gravesmere violently. He paused for a moment to regain his composure. "I would prefer not to discuss her, but rather to learn more about you, my dear."
"Very well," she said cheerfully. "We shall consign your poor bride to perdition. But I think it will be very difficult for you to learn much about me. What shall you and I do together this fine evening?"
Gravesmere was delighted to see her so amenable. "Perhaps we may stroll along one of the paths?"
She smiled slyly. "You would lure me away, and perhaps compromise me? For shame. I will not be treated as some light woman."
Adam bowed. The woman seemed to have certain standards, despite her flirtatious behavior. "Then perhaps you will dance with me?"
"That, I believe, is possible."
The woman put her hand on his arm, and they re-entered the ballroom. As they did, Adam saw to his disma
y that Louisa stood by the door to the card room, clearly looking for him. A discontented expression covered her face. "Damnation," he muttered under his breath.
The woman's gaze followed his, taking note of Louisa. She glanced up at him shrewdly. "Is something wrong, my lord? Perhaps you have something better to do than dance with me?"
"I must claim this dance at another time," said Adam. "I see that another has need of me. I regret more than I can say losing this opportunity to dance with you." He pressed a kiss on her hand.
"You are forgetting, my lord," said the woman. "You promised me your diamond if I could name you. I believe you lost that wager."
Gravesmere laughed. He took the pin from his cravat and laid it in her hand. "Perhaps I can win it back from you someday."
She raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you can. I feel sure I will see you again very soon, my lord."
As Adam looked into her dancing eyes one more time, another gentleman approached them and stood at her elbow. "Oh fair one," he hailed her. "I have been pining away far from your light."
The woman turned her back on Adam. "And now I am returned to you. What shall we make of that?" she said.
Adam gazed after her as she took the other gentleman's arm and allowed him to escort her away. With a quiet chuckle at her audacity, he returned to Louisa's side. She made a tiny pout of despair as he approached and took his arm. "Oh, Adam. I have already lost all the guineas you gave me. I fear the luck is running against me. Whatever shall I do?" "
I believe I can repair the damage, my dear," said Adam. "I shall simply have to give you more guineas."
"You are good to me, Adam, darling. And I will be sure to be good to you later." Her eyes slid up to his face. "Who was that lovely woman I saw you talking to?"
"Someone of no account," said Adam. "I don't even know her name."
But, as Adam led Louisa back to the gaming room, his mind continued to dwell on the unknown lady. Her behavior had been most immodest, yet she had an innocent charm of manner and a rare beauty that lingered in his mind. She was, of course, not as lovely as Louisa, but she was definitely intriguing. It should not be difficult to discover her identity as she had to be well known in Society. No woman of fashion with that much beauty and charm could remain anonymous for long. He escorted Louisa back to the basset table and lounged against the wall as she resumed play. Her cheeks flushed with excitement and her eyes glistened as she placed her bets. Adam watched her indulgently.
"Adam, dear, could you fetch me something to drink?" she asked eventually. "I am so thirsty."
"Of course, my dear." Adam, who had begun to feel slightly bored, was glad to have the opportunity to stroll about. As he approached the refreshment table he saw one of the gentlemen who had clustered about the unknown woman earlier. He laid a hand on his shoulder.
The man looked up inquiringly. "Oho. It is the fellow who cut us all out. It seems you have a silver tongue, you lucky dog."
Adam laughed. "Perhaps it was simply the allure of an unknown face. The lady seems to be easily bored. But I have a question for you. I have no idea of the name of the charming woman we both so admire."
The man gaped at him. "You must truly have been far from London not to know the Toast of the Town! That enchanting creature is the latest rage. All the men of London are at her feet."
"I can see why," said Adam. "But you didn't answer my question. Her name?"
The man shrugged. "You will hear it often enough if you stay in London. She is the Duchess of Gravesmere."
"The Duchess of Gravesmere?" repeated Adam, stunned.
“Indeed.” The man chuckled and leaned in with a conspiratorial air. “And can you believe that her husband hasn't seen her in four years? He has been on the Grand Tour, and they say he is enamored with some widow, years older than himself. Not that I care. A husband would be most awkward to deal with. But the man must be a fool, leaving a woman like that all alone!"
Adam stared across the room to where his wife was dancing with a tall young man, her brilliant eyes lit with laughter as they circled, their hands clasped.
"A fool, indeed," he said.
Chapter 2
A Public Spectacle?
London's latest rage was perched on a settee against a wall, fanning herself and watching angrily as her husband and Lady Manning entered the ballroom. Adam fetched Louisa a glass of negus, and Allegra observed with eyes narrowed behind her mask as the older woman smiled and gently touched his cheek. Allegra hunched a petulant shoulder at the gentleman who sat next to her, possessed of her hand and gushing praises of her beauty. She sighed.
"How you bore me, Sir Anthony," she snapped. "My eyes are stars, my eyes are pools of water, my eyes are like a sunlit sky. Have you no original thoughts?"
The gentleman blinked, taken aback. Allegra wrenched her eyes off the sight of Adam leading Louisa out to dance, and turned to her companion. She mustered a smile.
"Do forgive me, Sir Anthony," she said. "I am afraid the closeness of the room has given me a headache. It is shameful of me, however, to blame you for it. Please, oblige me by finding my brother; I think I should go home."
The gentleman beamed, happy to be restored to his goddess's good graces, and took himself off in search of her brother. Another gentleman approached as Allegra swung her fan back and forth pettishly and bowed gracefully before her. She looked up into the darkly handsome countenance of Lord Gresham.
"My lord," she exclaimed, a genuine smile lighting her face. "How good to see you. And how kind of you to single me out."
"All of London is anxious to single you out," Lord Gresham pointed out, kissing her hand. He seated himself next to her with a lazy grace, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
"Don't talk fustian to me, my lord," said Allegra. "You, I know, are no frivolous young man. I can only be complimented that a gentleman of your intelligence and worldly experience would care to converse with a mere butterfly such as myself."
Lord Gresham eyed her shrewdly and laughed. "Your Grace, you may be a butterfly but you will never be 'mere'."
Allegra was pleased that she had made him laugh. Lord Gresham was older than most of the men who flocked to her side, and was notorious in Society for his wicked ways. There was something of a mystery about the baron. It was said he had run through an entire fortune in his youth and now made his living at the gaming tables, though he never seemed to want for money. His family was an ancient one and his name respected, but there were hints of a scandalous past and whispers of his dangerous attraction for women of all types, who invariably ended up ruined and alone. He had only recently returned from several years abroad, in a swirl of rumors concerning his doings. Allegra was flattered that he seemed to find her worthy of his notice. It was easy enough to keep the attention of the young bucks; all she needed for that was beauty and a bit of wit. But Lord Gresham was a man who required more than just frivolity and charm in a woman.
"You were looking quite put out when I approached you," he observed. "Is something troubling you?"
The smile died on Allegra's face and her eyes turned to the revolving dancers, her eyes singling out her husband and his mistress. "'Tis nothing," she said.
"Nothing?" asked Lord Gresham. "Come, my dear. ‘Tis clearly something."
Allegra's lips tightened. "It's just that my husband seems to have returned."
"Gravesmere?" Lord Gresham looked faintly amused. "Is he here?"
"He is indeed. I just had quite a conversation with him."
Lord Gresham grinned. "And was it a happy reunion, ma'am?"
"He did not know he was speaking to his wife," said Allegra shortly.
Lord Gresham took her little hand in his and patted it. Allegra was clearly distressed. "And why didn't you tell him?"
Allegra's face twisted. Lord Gresham observed with pleasure that even when sulking, she was still beautiful. "I don't know," she said slowly. "I think perhaps I wanted to play a trick on him. I haven’t seen him in four years, you know."
Lord Gresham was aware, as was all London, of the circumstances of the Gravesmeres’ marriage. He was also aware of the company Gravesmere had kept on the Continent and now, in London. The gossips had early on ferreted out his presence in Half Moon Street with the delectable Widow Manning, and Gresham didn't doubt that their tales had reached the duchess by now.
"I am sure when he realizes that the beautiful woman he met tonight is his wife he will be very pleased," said Gresham gently.
Allegra smiled a little at that. "Do you think so, my lord? I do not know him, but I would like it if we could be friends at least. I fear my temper got away with me tonight."
Gresham tried to encourage the smile. "Any man who would be sorry to have as lovely a woman as you to wife would be a fool. I am sure Gravesmere is not that."
"You reassure me, my lord," said Allegra. "You are very kind."
Lord Anthony returned at that moment with the distressing news that Allegra's brother was drunk and in no state to escort his sister home. "I’ll be dashed if I know how we’ll get him home, Your Grace," he said.
Lord Gresham arose and bowed to Allegra. "Permit me to escort you home, my lady. I believe you can trust yourself to so serious and staid a gentleman as myself."
Allegra bestowed a beautiful smile on him. "You are too kind, my lord. I am sure I can trust you completely." She stood, accepting his proffered arm gracefully. With one last cold glance at Adam and Louisa, she allowed herself to be led from the room. She was unaware that Adam glared angrily after her as she left with Gresham.
The next morning Adam was on his mother's doorstep at an unfashionably early hour. The butler opened the door, and when he saw who had been pounding so relentlessly on it, he was immediately wreathed in smiles.
"Your Grace! It's so good to see you, my lord. We have been expecting you, as your luggage arrived some days ago. If you will permit me to say so, Her Grace will be very happy to have you home."
A Most Unusual Situation: A Traditional Version Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 1) Page 3
