Just a Kiss

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Just a Kiss Page 3

by Ally Broadfield


  Lord Marley took her hand, sending an unfamiliar sensation buzzing through her. They both froze for an instant before he bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Lady Lightwood has assured me you are available for the next dance. Please soothe my nerves by confirming she is not mistaken.”

  Elizabeth nudged her, and in a whisper that could surely be heard on the other side of the ballroom, said, “Lord Marley is one of the most eligible bachelors on the market this season. He requested the introduction, though I can’t imagine why.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I am not engaged, my lord.” She surreptitiously glanced around them to see if anyone had heard Elizabeth.

  Lord Marley clenched his jaw before leading her onto the dance floor. When the warmth of his touch penetrated the fabric of her gown, she inhaled the scent of sandalwood with a hint of citrus, and her pulse thrummed. She couldn’t prevent herself from flashing him a smile. The noise of the ballroom faded into a harmonious cacophony as they settled into the waltz.

  Overly wealthy, overly charming, overly good-looking, he could have any woman he desired. As she lacked both title and dowry, she could think of no reason why Lord Marley would have any interest in her. She narrowed her eyes.

  Lord Marley nodded to the couples surrounding them, but when he met her gaze, his serene countenance disappeared. “Why do you look at me with such abhorrence? I assure you I have no nefarious designs upon your person.”

  “I’m certain you have no designs, nefarious or otherwise, upon my person.”

  He smiled widely, but made no response.

  She lifted her brows. “Which begs the question, my lord, why did you request to dance with me?”

  He deftly swung her away from a collision with an encroaching couple. “Miss Lightwood, you are one of the most beautiful and sought-after ladies in attendance. I merely seek my turn to be the object of your attention. You must stop frowning at me or everyone shall think I’ve said something inappropriate.” His knee brushed against her leg through the thin silk of her gown, and the intimate touch sent a shiver through her.

  Though she couldn’t discern what he might want from her, she knew she couldn’t afford to alienate one of the richest and most powerful men in London. She softened her expression and immediately became lost in his clear blue eyes.

  His gaze captured and held hers for several heartbeats before he cleared his throat and spoke again. “I have a proposition for you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t fathom anything he might offer that would be proper for her to accept.

  “I thought perhaps we could be of assistance to one another.” He studied her face as if waiting for a response.

  Charlotte swallowed. “Please continue.”

  “I have heard that you are coming out under less than ideal conditions.” He inclined his head, and she nodded in agreement. Less than ideal was certainly one way to put it. “I propose to show you my favor, which will attract the attention of other suitors.”

  She stiffened. “They will think you are courting me.”

  His smile widened. “Exactly, and they will view you as a potential match because of my regard.”

  An image of Horace popped into her head. “I agree to your proposition.” She held her breath, hoping her quick response hadn’t made her appear desperate.

  Lord Marley laughed, a sound as crisp and refreshing as the first autumn breeze. “Wait. I haven’t finished yet.”

  Her stomach dropped, and she took a deep, steadying breath. “Of course there’s more. What do you expect from me in return?”

  “You needn’t look at me with trepidation. I saw you speaking with Princess Tarasova earlier, and thought you might be willing to assist me with my plans to court her.”

  His words left an indelible gash on her heart. Of course he couldn’t actually court her, and the princess was an obvious choice for him, but it still hurt to hear him say it so pragmatically. “What, precisely, do you expect me to do?”

  He shrugged. “Give me some insight into her, what she likes and dislikes. Provide me with the type of information that will assist me in winning her hand. Information that other suitors won’t have.”

  She studied him before responding. She would be foolish to refuse him, but she felt a pang of guilt over feeding him information about the princess, the only person who had made any attempt to show her friendship since she’d arrived in London. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her kindness, Charlotte would have run from the ball after those girls made such disparaging remarks about her. On the other hand, Lord Marley’s attention would attract the notice of other men and could be her only chance to avoid having to marry Horace. “I believe I shall need more time to consider your proposition.”

  “Naturally,” he agreed.

  The music had stopped, and they were the only ones still standing on the dance floor. Lord Marley took a step back from her, tucking her arm through his and escorting her to Elizabeth.

  “Until we meet again, Miss Lightwood.” He bowed and kissed her hand. Excitement fluttered in her stomach.

  The moment he left her side, three other gentlemen approached Elizabeth for an introduction. After more than an hour of nonstop dancing, Charlotte had to acknowledge that Lord Marley’s plan could work. Unfortunately, all the gentlemen she had met were quite proper and accommodating, but none affected her the way Lord Marley had. No quickening of her pulse or tingle of excitement. Her cheeks were sore from forcing a smile for so long a time.

  She was debating whether it was too early to leave when a small dog darted past her. Puzzled as to how a dog had gained access to the ballroom, she followed him through a maze of exceptionally inobservant people and managed to scoop him up just before someone trampled him.

  “Do be careful, my dear,” said a male voice from behind her. “That one will remove your hand without so much as the civility of a by-your-leave.”

  Charlotte turned to the tall, handsome gentleman who had spoken. “You wouldn’t happen to know to whom he belongs?” she asked hopefully.

  “Of course.” He reached over, as if intending to grasp her arm, but the little dog growled and snapped at him. He cringed away slightly and pointed toward an elderly lady sitting in a large chair at the edge of the ballroom. She wore a deep green velvet gown, her gray hair dressed in a style that had gone out of fashion many years ago.

  Charlotte strode toward her, and the lady’s eyes widened when she saw Charlotte holding her dog. “Oscar, you naughty boy. Where did you wander off to?”

  Charlotte placed him on her lap.

  “I suspect he was helping himself to the refreshment table,” the gentleman who aided Charlotte said dryly.

  The lady narrowed her eyes. “You may leave us, Ashdown.”

  He stiffened momentarily before bowing. “My lady.” He winked at Charlotte before turning to leave. She wasn’t certain whether he meant to fortify her, or if it was simply an acknowledgement that he had escaped and she hadn’t.

  The lady turned back to Charlotte. “You are Miss Lightwood, the half sister of Sir Richard Lightwood.”

  Information certainly traveled quickly in a London ballroom. Since the lady hadn’t introduced herself, Charlotte didn’t know how to address her, so she smiled and remained silent.

  Perhaps realizing the reason for Charlotte’s silence, she said, “I am the Dowager Countess of Marley.”

  Charlotte quickly deduced she was Lord Marley’s grandmother. “I’m very pleased to meet you, my lady.” She dropped into a curtsy.

  Lady Marley’s brows rose. “How did you manage to catch my dog?”

  “I saw him crossing the dance floor and feared he would be trampled by the dancers, so I simply picked him up.”

  “And he didn’t attempt to bite you?” she asked incredulously. Lady Marley gestured to a footman who placed a chair for Charlotte next to her.

  “Oh no, my lady. In fact, he licked my chin.” Charlotte scratched Oscar behind the ear. “What is his pedigree? He
has the coloring of a beagle, but more closely resembles a spaniel.”

  “His ancestry is unknown. He came to me in my garden the very day after my dear Marley passed away. Fate brought us together.”

  Charlotte locked gazes with the countess. “But…you don’t think he is your Lord Marley?”

  She raised one brow. “You certainly don’t mince words, do you?”

  Charlotte turned away. “So I’ve been told. I meant no offense, my lady.”

  “And I have taken no offense.” She stroked Oscar’s back. “I am not yet old and foolish enough to think my husband has returned to me in the form of a dog, but I do believe my dear Marley sent him to keep me company.”

  Lord and Lady Marley must have loved one another very much. Charlotte liked the idea that he’d sent his wife a companion. She smiled at the dowager.

  “You know something, Miss Lightwood? I can see why Oscar decided not to bite you.”

  Considering her abrupt dismissal of poor Lord Ashdown, Charlotte rather thought that was the highest compliment Lady Marley could have bestowed on her. “I am exceedingly fond of dogs, and they generally take to me. I was devastated when my guardian forbade me to bring my dog to London.”

  “Lady Lightwood,” she muttered, rapidly fanning herself. “I have yet to form an opinion of her.” The venom in her voice was evidence enough of her assessment thus far.

  Charlotte bit back a smile.

  “Have you set your cap at a particular gentleman?” Lady Marley asked, her gaze fixed on the dance floor.

  Lord Marley passed in front of them, dancing with Princess Tarasova. “No, my lady. It’s much too soon for me to determine who might be a good match for me.”

  “Nonsense. I knew from the moment Marley first took my hand I would marry him.”

  Charlotte cast a startled glance at Lady Marley.

  “So there is someone.” Lady Marley smiled. “You don’t have to tell me. I will deduce it soon enough.”

  On the dance floor, Lord Marley and Princess Tarasova laughed. Self-assured and beautiful, the daughter of a Russian prince and the niece of an equally wealthy duke, Princess Tarasova was a good catch by anyone’s definition.

  And Charlotte had nothing to offer but herself.

  Chapter Three

  Sebastian nodded to acquaintances as he made his way through the ballroom to Ashdown.

  “Will you be joining us at White’s this evening?” Ashdown asked. “I’m curious to see how high the bets have risen on your wager that Lord Mills will marry this season.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I had forgotten about that wager.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if you would forget your own name if I wasn’t here to remind you.”

  Sebastian raised a brow. “I’ll have to escort Gran home first, but I’ll be there. I expect she’ll be ready to leave soon.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” said Ashdown. “She’s been deep in conversation with Miss Lightwood for some time.”

  “With Miss Lightwood?” Sebastian walked to the edge of the ballroom and searched until he spotted his grandmother. “How did that come about?”

  “Miss Lightwood managed to capture that little demon of a dog without being injured.” Ashdown gazed at him questioningly. “I assume you’ve met her?”

  Sebastian nodded.

  Ashdown followed Sebastian’s gaze to where Charlotte sat. “I say, what on earth is she about?”

  “She appears to be rearranging the flowers on that table,” Sebastian said softly. The flowers reminded him of the pleasant lavender scent emanating from her during their waltz.

  “How odd.” Ashdown leaned forward.

  “It is indeed odd. However, I do believe it is an improvement over the previous arrangement.

  “She’s quite intriguing,” Ashdown said, “and must be a very accomplished young woman to handle that dog and engage your grandmother for such a long period.”

  “She has no dowry.” What the devil had prompted him to say that? He glanced at Ashdown, who had schooled his features and was most decidedly not glancing at him.

  He cleared his throat. “Perhaps not, but her father was a baronet, so she’s not entirely beyond the pale.”

  Sebastian was fascinated by the way the flickering candlelight highlighted the auburn in her hair. She tilted her head back to laugh at something his grandmother said, and his stomach tightened as he imagined how soft and silky the skin of her throat would be against his lips.

  “Marley? Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Err…no,” answered Sebastian without turning away from Miss Lightwood.

  “Well I certainly hope you recover from whatever’s ailing you before you arrive at the club tonight. In your current state you’re likely to lose your entire fortune in a game of piquet.” Ashdown clapped him on the back and moved off.

  …

  “Did anyone catch your fancy this evening?” Lady Marley asked when Sebastian finished tucking a lap robe about her legs and had settled on the seat opposite her.

  He responded by raising a brow, knowing better than to give her ammunition she could use against him later. He had decided to pursue Princess Tarasova, but he wasn’t ready to reveal that to her yet.

  “I met two charming young ladies,” she continued.

  Though Gran’s fondest wish was to see him married, she had little tolerance for most people, and she didn’t suffer fools quietly. “Why Gran, you must be going soft in your old age. I cannot remember the last time you were able to find one, let alone two, new acquaintances you found intriguing.”

  “I ask you, who wouldn’t find a Russian princess intriguing? As for the other one, Oscar likes her very much, and he’s an excellent judge of character.”

  Sebastian met her gaze. “Oscar doesn’t like anyone.”

  “As I said, he’s an excellent judge of character.” She pulled the dog into her lap and smoothed a tuft of fur beneath his collar.

  Knowing he had no hope of winning this argument, Sebastian bowed out. He gave Oscar a pat on the head. The beast growled at him. Unfortunately, Gran wasn’t finished yet.

  “Since you haven’t found anyone to strike your fancy yet, perhaps you could show your favor for Princess Tarasova and Miss Lightwood. Throw them into the path of other men so they are sure to make advantageous matches.”

  Her suggestion was so similar to the proposition he’d offered Miss Lightwood, it gave Sebastian pause. He cleared his throat. “Gran, I know I promised you I would find a suitable bride this season, but surely you don’t expect me to choose one of your new favorites?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, smoothing the lap robe over her legs. “I’ve long since given up hope you will ever follow any of my suggestions. Besides, surely the Earl of Marley cannot marry a destitute, untitled girl, can he? No matter how pleasing she might be. However, he can help her to find an appropriate suitor. Of course, the princess won’t have any trouble making a match, but being unfamiliar with our society, I’m sure she could use some guidance.”

  He crossed his arms. Lost in her zeal to meddle in the affairs of others, Gran conveniently forgot that the princess was the niece of an influential duke. “What, precisely, do you wish me to do with them?”

  She shrugged. “Dance with them. Be seen with them in the park. Discuss them with your acquaintances. Use your influence to help them secure good matches.”

  “I believe you are overestimating my influence and underestimating your own. I’m certain you could have them both betrothed by the end of the week if you applied yourself.”

  “Balderdash.” She whacked her fan against the seat. “You must show them your favor to attract the notice of others.”

  “Very well, Gran. I am at your disposal. I shall seek them out at every available opportunity.” Gran’s lids fluttered shut, giving Sebastian time to contemplate the evening. Or so he thought.

  “Oh, and you will have to invite Miss Lightwood and Princess Tarasova to a house party a
t Marley. And host a ball while they are there,” she ordered without opening her eyes.

  “Naturally.” Though he found Miss Lightwood captivating, he could not forget his duty to his title. Princess Tarasova was beautiful, wealthy, and would be an ideal countess. He would do what was expected of him.

  Chapter Four

  Amelia took a sip of her tea and gazed at Charlotte expectantly. “What about Lord Ravensdale? I’ve heard he’s quite wealthy.”

  Charlotte walked to the sideboard to add more eggs to her plate, nodding to the footman stationed at the door as she passed. “Well, aside from the fact that he’s a known rake, he frightens me. His lips are too thin, and his eyes are set too closely together. He reminds me of a bird of prey.” She sat across from Amelia.

  “Perhaps you’ve discerned the origin of his family name.” Amelia dabbed her mouth with a serviette. “Nevertheless, I think it’s safe to remove him from the list. What about Lord Sunderland?”

  “He seems nice enough, but I believe he must marry for money.” Charlotte spread a generous portion of jam on her toast.

  “Then we’ll cross him off the list as well. Isn’t there anyone you like who’s capable of supporting you?”

  Heat rushed to Charlotte’s face.

  Amelia grinned like a small child who had just been given a chocolate biscuit. “I knew it! Who is it?”

  “Lord Marley, but he…” She stopped speaking as someone approached the door.

  Elizabeth stormed in. “Do you actually think Lord Marley will make an offer for you?” She sat at the head of the table. “Lord Marley, the most eligible bachelor in London? The one who can take his pick of any girl in Britain? How provincial you are.”

  Amelia’s eyes flashed. “Mama, you assume too much. We were merely discussing the relative merits of Charlotte’s prospects.” She tossed her fork on the table, pushed back her chair, and left without excusing herself.

  Relations between Amelia and Elizabeth had been steadily declining, and Elizabeth’s insistence that Charlotte marry Horace was not helping matters. Whenever possible, Charlotte avoided being with the two of them.

 

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