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Spencer meets his Lady Love

Page 3

by Christine Donovan


  Which had her wondering if a certain Mr. Spencer would attend this evening. She would be beyond disappointed if he did not have a membership. But of course he had one. What upstanding gentleman of the ton didn’t? But just because he had a subscription didn’t mean he attended on a regular basis.

  Just as she helped herself to some watered down punch she saw Beatrice stroll her way, her lovely white gown billowing around her legs. Her friend was tall like her, but where Miranda was thin, Beatrice was curvy and plump in all the right places. Pretty as a picture with her dark hair, blue eyes, and creamy white skin. Ever since they were young, Miranda noticed men leering at her friend. It always made her uncomfortable, but not Beatrice who had older sisters and was used to being around young gentlemen.

  “Can you believe we are finally attending Almack’s? My twin sisters did nothing but tease me when they had their first Season. Now they are fat.” She giggled. “Fatter than I and married with babies drooling over them. Now who is having all the fun? We are and they have to keep house, submit to their husbands in bed, and...” She paused and tapped Miranda’s arm with her fan. “Are you listening to me?”

  “Look who just came in the door?” Miranda whispered as her heart began to pound furiously. Oh my. How handsome he looked this evening dressed in black formalwear. When he handed his hat and cape to the doorman his tussled hair made her sigh.

  “Who?” Beatrice squinted toward the entrance.

  “Would you put your spectacles on? You’re liable to trip and stumble into someone. Please sit down with me. I don’t want to look too eager.” They moved to a row of chairs and sat down.

  “Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad idea if I found a certain gentleman who interested me.”

  “Beatrice,” she admonished. “How can you say that? Besides, what about Lord Herman? Have you fallen out of love so quickly?”

  She looked thoughtful. “Perhaps. Anyway, take your Mr. Spencer.” She batted her eyelashes. “Tell me you would not purposely bump into him to get his attention?”

  Would she? “Beatrice, I would do no such thing. Quiet. Here he comes.” The roar of her blood rushing in her ears was deafening.

  “Lady Miranda,” Mr. Spencer said as he bowed over her hand and held it a tad too long. Molten heat spread up her arm and settled deep inside her belly. “It is a pleasure to see you again so soon.” Then he turned to Beatrice and hit her with a dazzling smile. Was no one safe from his charms? Miranda thought.

  “Mr. Stuart Spencer, may I present, Lady Beatrice Stone.”

  Once again he bowed, this time over Beatrice’s white-gloved hand, but Miranda noticed he dropped hers quickly. “How lovely to make your acquaintance. Are you ladies enjoying Almack’s?”

  Before she could say a word her friend began. “Yes. It is just as I imagined it would be. When I was a young girl my sisters used to go on and on about here, and I was dreadfully jealous.”

  “I remember your twin sisters well. They are both married, are they not?”

  “Yes and fat.”

  “Beatrice,” Miranda scolded. “Mr. Spencer does not need to know such things.”

  “Indeed not,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “They broke hearts all over London when they wed.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Beatrice said with a frown as she stood up. “Although I could be wrong. Excuse me, Miranda, Mr. Spencer.”

  “I’m sorry for Beatrice, she tends to speak before thinking.” At the knowing look he sent her, heat scorched her cheeks and she blurted out, “I know what you’re thinking?”

  “Is this seat taken?”

  “No.”

  Spencer sat in the seat vacated by Lady Beatrice. He leaned close to her ear, and she held her breath as he whispered, “Tell me what I’m thinking?”

  “That I do the same thing,” she said on an exhale while his warm breath caressed her ear deliciously.

  The sound of his laughter warmed her insides. “I would never be so forward as to insinuate such a thing even if it were true.”

  “You were thinking it, though.” No matter what he said, she wouldn’t be fooled. He had been thinking it.

  “Perhaps we could find a more intimate corner to continue this fascinating conversation.” The twinkle in his eyes and his carefree expression had her insides churning with something she could not explain. It was uncomfortable and pleasant all at the same time.

  He stood, his arm out, waiting for her to accept his escort. Should I? She stood and placed her hand on his offered arm, prepared this time for the heat that burned her palm, traveled up her arm, and curled around her heart. Before she knew it the sneaky devil had escorted her to a quiet corner and two vacant chairs. If her mother found her in such a cozy, intimate setting, God only knew what she’d do. Force Mr. Spencer to ask for her hand. She frowned. She would never want him to be forced to do something he didn’t want too. She never wanted to be the person who took his carefree existence from him.

  After she sat and rearranged her skirts she allowed herself to look at him, really look at him, and her heart stopped at the intense way he stared at her. He looked at her as though his eyes were trying to peek into her soul. Penetrate inside and find all her hidden secrets. Did she even have hidden secrets? Not that she minded his attention, but at that moment his eyes were an intense dark blue color and she found herself lost into the depths of them. She shook her head to clear her befuddled mind.

  “Stop looking at me like that?” Oh dear, it came out a little more forceful than she intended.

  He blinked, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. “Sorry. Not my intention to make you nervous.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “No? I’m disappointed.” He winked. “I must be losing my touch.”

  “You like to make young ladies nervous?” Her heart stilled. Mayhap he was not the kind person she thought.

  “Truthfully, I don’t. I do, however, like teasing you. I’ve no idea why, except to say it is refreshing to have a conversation with someone about something besides the weather. Don’t you think it’s a pointless and ridiculous subject to talk about? Because really, who cares about the weather. Especially in London when most days are cool and rainy.”

  She fought the urge to giggle. “Mr. Spencer, I believe you just made my first conversation about the weather interesting and amusing. What else can we talk about?”

  His smile, totally and completely focused on her, made her insides melt. “We could discuss gloves and why we must wear them? He glanced around the room, then reached for one of her gloved hands and held it in his. Turning it over, he made small circles on her palm with his index finger, and she sighed at the sensations invading her body. Moisture pooled between her legs and she feared she’d relieved herself a little. How mortifying.

  “Would it be scandalous if lords and lady’s touched, skin to skin? I think not. And what about corsets, a lady should be able to breathe and eat. Besides, would it be so improper for a gentleman, such as myself, to wrap his arms around his lady friend’s waist and actually feel her body beneath his sensitive hands?” More moisture. Perhaps she should excuse herself and visit the water closet. But before she could utter a word, he spoke again. “Or neck clothes? A gentleman can hardly breathe when it’s tied correctly. Can’t be good for the brain or lungs. Not only that, when a lady wraps her arms around his neck, its cuts off his air even more. What is more important than air you ask? The feel of a lady’s warm hands touching the sensitive skin surrounding his neck. Hence, why cravats are expendable.”

  Miranda couldn’t help herself this time and she giggled. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand as several old matrons looked disapprovingly her way. So much for thinking their cozy corner gave them privacy.

  “I believe my mother would be shocked to hear our conversation. Perhaps we should discuss something a little less scandalous.” Not that she wanted to change the topic. This one entertained her and made her feel wicked. Mr. Spencer was a bad influence. She man
aged to get herself into trouble all on her own, she didn’t need someone else helping her. But try as she might, she could not move. If Almack’s burned down to the ground around her and Spencer, she would stay as long as he did.

  “Indeed.” He wiggled his brows up and down, and she bit her lower lip to stop from laughing. “What pray tell should we talk about now?”

  She leaned slightly toward him and lowered her voice. “Tell me about gentlemen’s clubs. What do you do there? Do men flaunt their mistresses in scandalous clothing? Do men get into their cups and fall down? Are fortunes lost and made in card games? It’s unfair that it’s all a secret from the female class. We have nothing more exciting than our sewing circles.”

  “If I confide in you, I might get my membership revoked.” He touched her hand with his and squeezed, sending sparks shooting up her arm. “But I can tell you this, it is not as exciting as you think. Married men I think, attend so they can loosen their neck cloths, use foul language, and drink and gamble to their hearts content without being harassed by their wives. Single men enjoy a reprieve from marriage-minded mamas and their daughters.”

  “Oh.” Her heart dropped inside her chest. Is that how he saw her? Then she lowered her eyes and couldn’t look away from his large gloved hand, covering her smaller one, feeling decadent and improper. When he pulled away she frowned and shivered as all the warmth left her body.

  “Forgive me,” Spencer said as he looked around. “I should not have been so forward as to touch you.” He stood and bowed. “I see my cousin trying to get my attention. I bid you farewell.” He turned, then pivoted back, his eyes focused once again solely on her. “May I call on you tomorrow afternoon?”

  It took all her resolve not to draw attention to herself by standing and twirling around with joy. Instead she nodded her head and smiled. “Yes. I would like that very much, Mr. Spencer.”

  “Until tomorrow then.”

  Her eyes followed his every move until he was around the corner and most certainly out the door. Never in all her life had she seen such a handsome man who was also interesting and funny. Sometimes she found herself nervous around him and other times she forgot herself and enjoyed his company. Probably more than she should. Her eyes scanned the room and wondered if anyone saw him holding her hand?

  What if her mother saw? She inhaled and exhaled. If her mother witnessed it, she would have marched over and made her leave. Placing her hand over her heart she wondered when it would slow. Mr. Spencer made her heart pound and she never wanted the feeling to end. He did other things to her body she didn’t understand, but she hoped to in the near future. With him, of course. As her eyes scanned the other gentlemen in the room, and she compared them to Spencer, they all fell lacking. Not only in looks, but in presence. His presence commanded her attention and his penetrating eyes held her captured.

  ***

  “I was thinking we could stay a tad longer,” Spencer remarked as he approached William. He was breaking all his own rules by spending time alone with one woman, but he couldn’t help himself. Lady Miranda was like a breath of fresh air. Not ruled by strict social etiquette or by her mama. Something not easily found in London. And when you did, it was to be enjoyed and cherished.

  “Are you out of your bloody mind? Almack’s is an eligible gentleman’s nightmare unless one wants to get hooked by the parson’s noose. For those wishing to stay single, such as myself, I prefer other more gentlemanly pursuits. A place where a man can get a real drink, not watered down punch and soft biscuits.”

  “I believe you have me there. If Almack’s really wants to attract more eligible members of the ton, they should serve spirits. Then again, a man in his cups is more likely to find himself in a precarious situation where the word betrothed is attached to his name.” He shivered at the thought. If he’d been under the influence of whiskey or brandy, no telling what he might have said or done to Miranda. Not that he worried he would do something bad to her, even in his cups, Spencer was good-natured. Unlike some men who got downright mean. The only thing he may have done was lead her to a dark corner or behind a potted plant and capture her lips with his. All evening long, he found his eyes drawn back again and again to her pink, lush, full lips. When she’d caught her front teeth on her bottom lip he’d almost groaned out loud. Actually, now that he had time to think about things, perhaps it was time to leave. Because if he stayed he might just give in to his desires, grab her and duck behind the privacy of a potted plant. Though in reality, the plant didn’t truly hide them completely enough from prying eyes. It was all an illusion.

  Laughing, William pulled him out of his contemplations and it was good to hear and see his cousin enjoying himself. Ever since Geoffrey and Katherine’s wedding, William had taken on a stiff demeanor. Come to think of it, Geoffrey hadn’t laughed or been carefree in a longtime either. And Katherine, beautiful, kind, and loving Katherine, always watching the two men in her life with a troubled frown. Oh what a tangled web his cousins lived in. He wouldn’t trade places with either of them for all the crown jewels.

  “You have this odd look on your face.” William took his cloak and hat from the doorman. “Ever since you met Lady Miranda Carlton you’ve been acting strange. And I mean strange in not a good way.”

  “You are jealous because you haven’t a single lady to flirt with.” The moment the words escaped his mouth, and he witnessed the shock on William’s face, he wished he could take them back. “Sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but perhaps if you met someone you could...”

  “Give it a rest. My life is just as I want it to be.”

  Spencer didn’t believe him. If William’s life was as he wanted it to be, he would be married to Katherine. Katherine would, most certainly, not be married to Geoffrey. And Geoffrey would be free to pursue other manly pursuits.

  Once they left Almack’s they settled on a visit to Brooks and found the place quiet which suited Spencer perfectly. While William took a seat to play Faro, he settled in front of the fireplace and sipped a fine brandy.

  As his eyes were riveted to the red, orange, and yellow flames leaping from the logs, his mind ran wild with thoughts of Miranda and how he had nearly leaned into her and kissed her earlier that evening. In front of half the members of the ton and the Patrons of Almack’s themselves. His membership would have been revoked on the spot, and he would be banned for life. Not really such a terrible thing.

  Against his better judgment, he’d wanted desperately to take her into his arms and teach her about the delicious art of kissing. Because he didn’t believe for a moment, she’d ever been kissed before. Heat raced through his veins at the vision of her leaning into him, her full pink lips slightly parted, her eyes closed as she waited for him.

  “For Christ sake, get a grip.” He scrubbed his hands down his face.

  “Talking to yourself, cousin?”

  Spencer didn’t have to look to know it was Geoffrey speaking to him.

  “Geoffrey. Have a seat. What brings you to Brooks this fine evening?”

  “Fine evening? Have you looked outside recently? It started pouring about half ten. My driver could no longer see so I suggested we stop here.”

  When one looked at Geoffrey, all anyone saw was a handsome, debonair earl. A loving husband and brother. If anyone bothered to look closely, which most members of the ton didn’t, would they see what Spencer saw? A tormented man battling his inner demons because he was different. Different because he did not like women. Oh, he liked women well enough, just not enough to bed them. Spencer sighed, it was good most people didn’t pay close attention to Geoffrey.

  “Where is Katherine?”

  “My dear wife is home with a stomach ailment.”

  “Not serious I hope?” Spencer didn’t care for the worried look in Geoffrey’s eyes.

  “No. Not at all. She will be fine tomorrow I’m quite sure of it.”

  “No doubt,” Spencer agreed and he hoped so. Although, she had been dealing with a difficult stomach la
tely. Could she be...? “How is married life treating you?” Damn, but he kept saying the wrong things tonight.

  “As well as can be expected.” Geoffrey set down his glass he’d just been handed on a small round table separating their two chairs. “I’m not complaining. Katherine is everything a man could ask for in a wife. I’m just finding the duties as earl pressing.”

  “They never have before?”

  “No, they haven’t.” He looked across the room and frowned. “My brother seems in a rare mood.”

  William appeared to be winning at cards and drinking overly much. “Shall we drag him out of here while he can still stand?”

  “Why not? It’s time I got back to my wife.”

  Chapter Three

  Miranda flung open the doors to her wardrobe and began tossing day dresses willy-nilly around her feet. “I can’t find my favorite seafoam green day dress. The one with the yellow flowers embroidered around the hemline and down the sleeves,” she said to her maid. She wanted that dress for afternoon callers because it highlighted her green eyes. Spencer had said he would call on her today, and she wanted to look her best. Oh dear, now she was even thinking like a love-sick fool.

  “I’m sorry, milady, you dribbled jam on the bodice and I’ve not been able to get the stain out.”

  “Oh. Yes, I remember now.” Her shoulders fell in disappointment. She surveyed the dresses around her feet, plucked up a buttercup yellow one with green ribbons and shook it out. “This one will do then. I’m sorry I made a terrible mess.”

  “Let’s get you dressed and your hair styled so you can dazzle your gentlemen callers today.”

  Was she being that obvious? In recent memory, Miranda could not ever remember being so fussy about her clothing or hair. Yes, she always looked presentable, but now she wanted to look irresistible. Oh dear, what happened to her not wanting to fall in love or become betrothed until the end of the Season? She’d met a certain gentleman who stole the very breath from her lungs, that’s what.

 

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