Seeing that entrancing smile bestowed on the nobleman, Jack felt an inexplicable pang of jealousy. Absurd, since he had no claim to Miss Fortin’s affections whatsoever.
The duke might have felt a touch of jealousy as well, for he cast Jack a sharp look before offering the lady his arm.
“Who was that pirate fellow?” Dunmore asked as he led her away.
“I am not certain,” Jack heard her say as they took their positions on the grass dance floor.
When the music began for a waltz, Jack watched their progress with bemusement, wondering what Miss Fortin saw in the Duke of Dunmore other than his illustrious title and fortune.
They did not appear to be well-matched as dance partners, for Dunmore was remarkably uncoordinated and kept treading upon her toes. Her expression remained serene until the third time he ground down on her foot, and then she couldn’t conceal a grimace.
Dunmore seemed to realize he had hurt her, for he halted in his tracks and began apologizing profusely. “My dear, pray forgive my clumsiness.”
Miss Fortin forced a smile. “It is no matter, your grace. There are all manner of people who find the waltz difficult to negotiate, since it is so new. But perhaps we should not attempt it any longer?”
When Dunmore readily agreed, they moved back to the sidelines and stood conversing until the dance ended. A short while later, she excused herself.
When she turned toward the house, Jack could see her struggling to hide her limp. She was putting on a game face but was clearly in real pain.
With some thought of helping her, he followed her inside in time to see her hobble down a corridor and slip through a doorway. Curious as to what she was about, he pursued her.
She had taken refuge in the library, of all places, Jack realized upon pausing at the threshold. A table lamp had been lit, no doubt for the convenience of the ball guests, and Jack watched as Miss Fortin sank gratefully onto the sofa nearest the lamp.
Bending down, she raised her skirts to her knees, then removed her left dancing slipper and stocking. She muttered something inaudible before taking off her mask, perhaps the better to see as she examined her toes.
When she grimaced again, Jack stepped forward. “May I be of assistance, Miss Fortin?”
She gave a start of surprise and eyed him warily as he crossed the room to her. Without waiting for her agreement, Jack knelt before her and took her bare foot in his hands.
“Allow me,” he said, ignoring her sharply indrawn breath at his boldness.
Her smallest toe was bleeding, he could see. “Does it hurt to bend it?” he asked, gently prodding.
“Yes, but not excruciatingly so.”
“Then it is only bruised, not broken,” he pronounced. “It should heal in a week or so. Trust me, I speak from experience, having been injured by many an iron-shod hoof in my youth.”
Finding the end of his waist sash, he tore off a strip of fabric and used the makeshift handkerchief to blot the blood on her toe.
“You can wrap a piece of cloth around your wound until you can fashion a proper bandage.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
At her genuine expression of appreciation, Jack made the mistake of looking up. Her face was so very close that he froze.
She had stunning eyes, he realized. Luminous and thickly lashed. That dark shade of blue was almost violet.
Who had violet eyes? Jack thought irritably, struggling to resist her allure. This near, she was even more of an enchantress than he first realized, and his body reacted accordingly. The stab of desire that shot through him was as powerful as any he could remember.
In self-defense, he summoned a gruff voice. “Why did you allow Dunmore to trample your feet and half cripple you?” he demanded.
She had frozen at his nearness as well, but she looked taken aback by his inquiry. “I was being courteous, if you must know. It would have been unkind to point out his shortcomings. Dunmore cannot help it if he is a terrible dancer. Some people are cursed with two left feet.”
“I suppose his rank and fortune can excuse myriad deficiencies,” Jack said sardonically. “Isn’t that the chief reason for your compassion? And why you wish to marry him?”
She stared at him. “Not at all. The duke is actually a very kind man. I didn’t wish to hurt his feelings.”
At Jack’s skeptical silence, her gaze narrowed. “Why is it any of your concern?” When he didn’t answer, she made a demand of her own. “Who are you?”
Jack reached up to remove his own mask.
“You,” she exclaimed, obviously recognizing him. Oddly enough, she seemed relieved to learn his identity rather than apprehensive as he’d expected, for she settled back on the sofa and regarded him thoughtfully.
“I gather you know me?” he asked.
“Everyone knows of the scandalous Lord Jack Wilde.”
“But we have never met? I think I would remember you, Miss Fortin.”
“No, we have never met directly. I saw you at the Perry’s ball last season, but you never noticed me.”
“I cannot imagine why,” he said honestly.
“Perhaps because I was dressed in white. You avoid debutantes like the plague.”
He grinned at that. “Ordinarily, yes.”
“I avoided you that particular night as well, since I had been warned about you.” When his eyebrow lifted, she expounded. “Our families have been locked in a blood feud for two generations, remember?”
“Ah, yes, the feud,” Jack said. His great-uncle had killed her great-grandfather in a duel over a woman, and then fled to the American Colonies with the prize.
“I always regretted that prohibition,” Miss Fortin said wistfully. “I would have enjoyed knowing Lady Katharine and Lady Skye, but I was forbidden to associate with them.”
His mouth curved. “Do you always do as you are bid?”
She sidestepped the question. “Do you never do as you are bid? No, you needn’t answer. From all reports, you live to break rules.”
“What reports have you been heeding?”
“Oh, the gossip about you is universal. You are said to be an outrageously irreverent rake who can charm the birds from the trees—at least female birds. If only half the stories are true, I should fear for my virtue.” As if suddenly becoming aware of the impropriety of the situation, she smoothed her skirts down over her knees. “I should not even be speaking to you now.”
“So do you mean to run away screaming?”
Her luminous eyes sparked with an appealing levity. “No. I have been a dutiful daughter all evening. And I am curious to know why you are speaking to me. Why are you here at my aunt’s ball, my lord? What do you want?”
I want you, lovely lady, came the unbidden thought.
His fierce attraction boded ill for his plan to dislike her, Jack acknowledged, laughing inwardly at the irony, but all his possessive male instincts were now keenly awake.
Deciding the truth was his best defense, he fixed his gaze on her luscious mouth. “I am here because I promised my cousin I would kiss you.”
Table of Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Epilogue
Excerpt from Lover Be Mine
Princess Charming Page 28
