The Earl of Trent and his partner laughed. Trent said, “If you want to hold a discussion, Your Grace, I suggest you leave the dance floor.”
“Your Grace? Do you mind?” Cicely asked. Embarrassment and reprimand colored her voice.
The nerve of the chit. She was looking up at him with those velvet brown eyes, and a little pout forming on her full mouth—not that he had ever noticed that either, until now. He pulled her back into his arms and started to waltz again. The steps were automatic. He didn’t hear the music. He no longer noticed his surroundings. She demanded his attention—her and her damned question. He forced his grip to gentle and his expression back to bland, which was not easy to do with his heart beating the way it was—or the rush of blood to his groin. Something he had never experienced in her presence before now.
“You needn’t look so appalled, Your Grace.”
So he had not succeeded with his card face. “I’m not appalled.”
She laughed. He realized he hadn’t heard her laugh that carefree before this night. The sweet sound captured him and almost had him stopping again on the floor. “Your Grace, I know better than that. The expression on your face was beyond priceless. Do not worry, you have schooled it well.”
Another bubble of laughter rose from her throat. Douglas knew he should be mad at her amusement at his expense but he couldn’t. In the time he’d known the young woman, he’d not often seen her smile, let alone laugh. He was pleased to see that she seemed to be moving on from her past. And her pleasure was the reason for the delight that wound through him, curling into his heart.
But if he let her know how it had affected him she’d use it to her advantage. It was what women did. Retreating into his role of duke, he said, “Lady Cicely, I doubt very much that Lady Victoria would approve of your suggestion.”
She didn’t laugh, but she did smile. “I think at my age I can make my own decisions about this. But, since you appear to be so appalled by the idea—”
“I didn’t say I was appalled.”
She continued as if he hadn’t said a word. “Then I shall mark you off my list.”
The music drew to a close when she made that comment. They stopped and he released her from his arms, but noticed they were near the French doors that led to the terrace. He should walk her back to Lady Victoria, but her last statement piqued his interest. Against his better judgment, he took her by her elbow and ushered her out into the night.
The dimly lit area was perfect for liaisons, and he had used it to his advantage more than once before. He knew a corner where they would be left alone. He pulled her along in a not-so-gentlemanly fashion.
Once there, he ushered her into the darkened corner. He backed her up against the wall, stepping close enough that the skirts of her gown brushed his legs. They hadn’t been this close when they had been waltzing. There was a hint of lavender in the air. He didn’t know if it was from her or the garden behind them. Resisting the urge to lean closer and sniff, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his best “I am the duke” stare. Bloody chit just smiled at him.
“Really, Your Grace, it is fine. I completely understand. I am a bit plain and not at all to your normal tastes.” She licked her lips nervously and he followed the movement. Aggravation burned a hole in his gut as he realized he was wondering how she would taste.
He shook his head, trying to focus. “What I want to know is what you mean by propositioning me while we are waltzing, and what do you mean by mark me off the list?”
She frowned now. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Lady Cicely was reserved, but Douglas had always sensed something just below the surface. He knew there were many times, probably through habit, that she refrained from making any comments on a subject. Her intelligence was not unknown, but he wondered how much of it she did hide.
“It really isn’t important now that you took yourself out of the running, Your Grace. You offered a boon, I simply asked for what I needed fulfilled. I understand you not wanting to. So this conversation should be closed.”
The calm, rational tone of her voice had him grinding his teeth. “I think I need to know just exactly what you are talking about.”
She stepped back and came to an abrupt stop when she hit the wall behind her. Narrowing her eyes, she placed a hand on each hip.
“Since you have declined participation, it isn’t any of your business.”
She noticed something over his shoulder and her eyes widened. He turned to look and saw nothing, but had left just enough room for her to scoot around him and out of the corner. Before he realized what she was about, she’d stepped far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to grab her arm without some of the other occupants of the terrace noticing.
Without turning around she said, “No worry, Your Grace. I will see myself inside. Thank you for the dance.”
So the little minx thought she could get away that easily? Irritation lit through him. He was not used to people ignoring his requests.
Suppressing the urge to shout, he said, “Lady Cicely.”
She stopped and glanced back at him, one eyebrow cocked. The fire that flashed in her eyes did nothing to cool his reaction to her.
“I would like to discuss this further.”
Sighing, she turned completely around to face him. “Your Grace, I know you are accustomed to throwing out orders and having them followed.” She drew closer. At first, he thought she might have been a bit apologetic until they made eye contact. Irritation and anger colored her brown eyes, darkening them. “But, you see, you turned me down, so therefore it is none of your business. I am neither your family nor your charge. And I doubt that your ducal powers would encompass my list.
We are through here. Now.”
With that pronouncement, she turned on her heel and marched back into the ballroom. At first, he couldn’t think. He was too stunned. He’d never in his life had a person refute his command. And Cicely, who nary said boo to him in the two years he had known her, had the nerve to tell him no? Then walk away from him?
He stalked toward the French doors, barely able to keep from growling. As he stepped into the ballroom, a wave of heat swept over him and he tugged at his collar. Damn crowds. Even as the mixture of scented perfumes and body odor reached him, he knew his discomfort was more from the social environment than the actual temperature.
Matchmaking mamas and their clinging, simpering daughters bored him to tears. He had come tonight because Lady Victoria had asked him to attend. He could never turn down Colleen’s mother-in-law. He had a weakness for pretty women, but it went beyond that. Since the discovery of his relation to Colleen, Lady Victoria had treated him as one of the family. To him, that meant the world.
He spotted her talking to Lady Bridgerton in the corner with the other matrons and decided to seek her out. Normally, he would avoid most of the women in that area. More than one of them had a family member they were trying to foist upon him. He took a deep breath. He could take it.
“Your Grace.”
He ground his teeth together when he recognized Bridgerton’s voice.
Douglas repressed the urge to tell the earl to bugger off. He’d gained Bridgerton as a friend when he was accepted as part of the Penwyth family. Just a few years older than Douglas, Daniel still had the matchmaking mamas after him too. With his title, looks, not to mention his ready wit, he was considered a great catch. The same age as Sebastian, he had taken another path than his happily wedded friend.
Daniel seemed as disinclined to marry as Douglas was.
“Bridgerton.” Douglas nodded as he completely turned to face him.
This had better be short. He was on a mission. “Is there something you need?”
He couldn’t stop from clenching his teeth. Aggravated didn’t begin to describe what he was feeling. His friend’s eyebrows rose all the way to his hairline and Douglas silently cursed himself for revealing his feelings. He just could not accept that he had been dismissed, and by a woma
n who was known for being even-tempered and soft-spoken.
Daniel noticed his state, but didn’t comment. “Sebastian wanted me to make sure you came for Jane’s baptism tomorrow.”
He sighed, thinking of his cousin’s newest addition to the family. “I take it that it was my cousin and not Penwyth who asked?”
Daniel’s grin grew as did Douglas’ irritation. “No. But then, Sebastian lives to make Colleen happy, so I am sure she is behind his request.”
Douglas hated family gatherings of any sort. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to quell the uneasiness that had risen. “I told them I would try to make it.”
“Not good enough.” Daniel grabbed a glass of champagne as a waiter walked by. “Colleen apparently wants you front and center, and you are to ride there with the family. And, before you complain, I have to be there, too.”
Sighing, Douglas looked out over the sea of dancers trying to locate Lady Cicely. When he spotted her, standing in a corner sipping champagne and talking to Dewhurst, panic set in. He didn’t have time for this.
“I will be there, what time?” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he asked his question. What the devil did she think she was doing with Dewhurst? He was a rake of the first order. When he saw her smile up at the earl, looking through her long lashes, his stomach muscles clenched.
Why had he never noticed her smile before tonight? And why was she flirting with Dewhurst? Was he on the blasted list? Whatever that list meant.
Daniel’s amused voice broke into his thoughts. “Eleven.”
“Eleven what?”
Laughter laced the words, but it had not yet come bursting forth from Daniel’s ear-splitting grin. “You asked me what time you were to arrive at the Penwyth townhouse.”
“Right. I will see you there.”
Without another word, he strode across the ballroom, never taking his eyes off his quarry. He would not allow Lady Cicely to go off making advances on the male population of the ton. Since Sebastian wasn’t there, it would have to be he who stepped into the role of guardian and protected the chit. He reassured himself it had nothing to do with his own strange reaction to her this evening. If she were left to her own devices, which apparently she was, she would find herself ruined. He was only trying to save her from herself.
Chapter Two
In which Lady Cicely requests aid from an unlikely source.
The evening had been painfully long and it was not even remotely close to being over. Cicely smiled at the Earl of Dewhurst and wondered, not for the first time in the last few moments, why women were so fascinated with him. He was attractive enough, with his dark brown eyes, strong jaw and ready smile. Dressed always in the first stare of fashion, he certainly cut a fine figure. Debutantes whispered about his prowess, his masculinity. All Cicely could think about was just how boring the man truly was.
Awareness feathered across the back of her neck, as if fingers trailed against her skin. She shivered. She didn’t have to turn around to know who approached. As before, her body reacted to the duke’s nearness. Her heart pounded even as she silently admonished herself. The man was just not interested. In truth, he had been appalled by the idea of bedding her. She knew that would be a deterrent to any help he might give in that area. If he could not even fathom the deed, how on earth could he help her secure another who might?
It was then that she realized Dewhurst had broken off talking about himself—and wasn’t that wonderful—and was gaping at something over her shoulder. She sighed, knowing Douglas stood there behind her. She didn’t like confrontations and she would rather at this point Dewhurst not know about the list and what it was for.
Slowly, trying to appear as if her nerves weren’t hopping, she turned to face Douglas. She hoped he couldn’t tell how he affected her. Even as she felt a flare of heat warm her cheeks, she met his frank gaze. She would not be pitied again. But what she found shimmering in his grey eyes made her breath catch in her throat. It was not pity she saw there.
It was anger. She’d never seen Douglas angry, but there was no mistaking the emotion shadowing his eyes. No wonder Dewhurst had suddenly stopped talking about himself.
“Your Grace.” She curtsied. “You know the earl, do you not?” She waved her hand in front of Dewhurst’s chest, almost smacking him.
“Yes,” Douglas said, his voice cold and hard. “I believe we have met on occasion.”
“Y-Y-Your Grace.” Dewhurst bowed and when he righted himself, he looked from side to side. He smoothed his richly tailored plum jacket, removing unseen folds and wrinkles. “Ahh, I see my mother has arrived.”
After excusing himself, he practically ran away.
She watched the earl’s retreat with a cross between amusement and astonishment. “Well, Your Grace, you seem to know how to keep the conversation going.”
“You’re definitely not wasting any time, Lady Cicely.”
At first, she couldn’t believe he had made reference to their earlier conversation, especially as loudly as he said it. Embarrassment, even though no one knew what he was talking about, and anger intertwined and caused her voice to rise to a level matching his own.
“Your Grace, I was just chatting to Dewhurst about the next Historical Society meeting.”
She hoped he didn’t realize she was lying. She actually had been talking about that, as Dewhurst did attend some meetings, but he’d had no interest in her discovery. About five minutes into the conversation she had acknowledged the only subject Dewhurst liked to talk about was Dewhurst. Then she’d done no talking. He talked enough for both of them.
“Chatting is a relatively inane name for what you were probably saying to him.”
“What makes you think you know what I was saying to him?”
He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Seeing how you asked me while dancing, I figured you went to the next name on the list.”
Of all the nerve! “First of all…” She lowered her voice when she noticed it had risen enough to catch bystanders’ attention. “First of all, I asked you then because you said you owed me. That is the only reason I presented the query to you. Second of all, Dewhurst isn’t that far up on the list, if you must know. And third of all, it isn’t any of your business.”
“It is my business. You asked me first. But then, my family connection to you makes it imperative that I watch over you.”
Once again, she was knocked speechless. The man had to be one of the most arrogant people on the face of the earth. Granted, he was a duke, but what made him think he could tell her what she could and could not do?
It briefly flitted through her mind to tell him he had not been the first one she had asked, but that was simply petty and it would do no good to lie to him about that. He was angry enough as it was. She tried a different approach. “While I understand your concern, I really don’t think there is any need for it. I have changed my mind.”
His eyebrows rose slightly, and he studied her. “And what brought about this change?”
Cicely pulled her lower lip between her teeth, trying to think of a lie plausible enough to fool him. She wasn’t very good at the whole game of lying. Blushing profusely while telling falsehoods tended to alert people of one’s deception. Understanding now just how far his arrogance went, she decided guilt might work. Drawing in a deep breath, she prepared her performance, knowing the threat of tears worked on most men. She’d seen Anna perform this task at least a half dozen times in the last month.
“Truthfully?”
“That would be nice.”
“Very well. When you seemed so appalled by the idea, I realized what I was up against.” She shook her head dramatically and blinked a few times.
“Lady Cicely—”
“No. No, don’t say any more. I completely understand. I do. I see why you would not want me, but please spare me the words. It was foolish to ask you, to even think… Anyway, I wish to put the whole thing behind me.” She lowered her head and pitched her voice in such
a way that there was no mistaking her horror. If Douglas bought this act, Anna was right. Men were terrified of female tears.
He sighed, and she couldn’t help glancing up from beneath her lashes at him. For the first time since Cicely had met him, Douglas not only looked confused, but a tad bit bewildered. She almost felt sorry for him, but she was more worried about diverting his attention. She didn’t need another big brother. Certainly not one she thought of with such…adoration.
“Lady Cicely, I apologize for upsetting you.”
She looked up, waiting for his next comment, but the bell for dinner rang.
He paused. Cicely watched, amused in spite of her situation. The mixture of emotions that swept over his features ranged from suspicion to irritation to uneasiness. His eyebrows drew down as he narrowed his eyes, studying her as if she were a creature he had never seen before.
After a few moments, he released a breath and the tension in his body drained. He may not believe her, but at that moment, he wasn’t going to press for information. Holding out his arm, he said, “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me into dinner?”
She smiled at him, relieved he had chosen this path. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Forgetting the need for tears, or a demure manner, she placed her hand on his sleeve and walked beside him into the dinner room. Her hand warmed, his body heat seeping through the sleeve. Her pulse tripped as she thought of what it would be like to glide her hand up the bare skin of his arm, feeling his warmth without barriers. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed he had pulled his wits back together, his society face firmly in place. It was a travesty that she had to act like a ninny and cry, but there was no other way. She glanced at him again, her gaze following the strong line of his jaw. He would have been a wonderful choice, if only he’d accepted to honor the boon.
As he held out the chair for her to be seated, she thought, not for the last time that evening, it was an utter shame the man had no interest in ruining her.
Once Upon an Accident 02 - Lessons in Seduction Page 2
