“I cannot believe I let you talk me into attending this ridiculous ball, with that ridiculous chandelier.” The Earl of Marlton blistered at Thomas.
Thomas smirked. “Don’t point at the thing. We’ll end up spending the entire night fending off stories of crystals from Austria. I have other plans for this evening.”
“Yes, so you said, a goddess with a gift for humor. So, where is this icon of beauty and merriment? What did you say she does, juggle? Most unladylike.”
“She is an excellent mimic, as I’m sure you remember. She is there.” Thomas nodded toward the right. “Standing with Lady Dorothea and Elinor Burkenstock.”
“The chit who was caught with Michael?”
“Indeed.”
He nearly stopped in his tracks and forced his feet forward before anyone took notice of his awe. She was tall for a woman, with hair so dark it looked black, except the candlelight from the grotesque chandelier set off shimmers of red and gold. Her skin was like honeyed cream.
Completely out of sorts and out of character, Daniel clung to control before he made a fool of himself.
Thomas bowed to the ladies. “May I present Daniel Fallon, The Earl of Marlton. Marlton, I believe you know Miss Burkenstock and Lady Dorothea. This is Miss Sophia Braighton from America.
Daniel bowed, his heart racing. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Braighton.”
Her gown revealed the swell of perfectly round breasts as she curtsied. “My lord. It’s nice to meet you.”
“My friend has spoken of nothing else since meeting you.” He ached to touch her and discover if her skin was as soft as it appeared.
“I’m sure he has exaggerated.” She would not meet his gaze, the floor and her shoes seeming more interesting.
Daniel wanted to continue the conversation, but she excused herself and pulled Thomas aside. The two spoke in hushed whispers. Beating his lifelong friend to a pulp was not out of the question. He clenched his hands into tight fists, battle-ready.
Thomas frowned, but then adjusted his face to a gentlemanly smile and bowed before, of all people, Elinor Burkenstock. He asked the girl to dance. She accepted politely, and the two swept off to join the other dancers while the crowd whispered and twittered. No doubt over how the popular and wealthy Thomas Wheel had chosen his first dance partner of the evening, a girl ensconced in scandal.
Daniel hated these events. However, there was some symmetry in one of them cleaning up Michael’s mess.
In spite of her American accent, her whisper near his ear set him on fire. “Will you also dance with my friend, my lord?”
He looked into eyes, golden like a tigress’s. “Would that please you, Miss Braighton?”
“It…It would please me very much.” Her voice was musical, low, and warm.
At least he wasn’t the only one out of sorts. His palms itched to wrap her up and calm every worry until she was pliant in his arms. “Then I shall claim the next dance, if you will agree to add me to your dance card this evening.”
She nodded and cast her eyes down depriving him of her gaze.
He ached to touch the rosy flesh and see if it was as warm and soft as it looked. He knew he was wearing a stupid grin. Waiting to hold her for the dance would be the death of him. Desperate to cover his ridiculous desire for the American, he turned toward Lady Dorothea. “Lady Dorothea. I have not seen you in years. You are obviously well. How is your brother?” A crooked grin brightened Dory’s face. She looked from him to Sophia and back again. “Markus married while you were abroad, as I’m sure you’ve heard. He and Emma are happily ensconced in the country. They prefer the country house to London. I believe they will spend only a fortnight here all season and that is only because my mother insists. You should visit them. I know my brother would be happy to see you.”
He nodded. “I will visit them as soon as I can.”
She stepped closer. “You are also a good friend of Sir Michael Rollins, are you not?”
Her brother, Markus, and Michael Rollins were part of his inner circle of friends. They, with he and Thomas, had been inseparable throughout school. “You are aware that I am.”
“Would you happen to know where he has taken himself to?” Dory asked.
“My lady, I’m sorry to tell you I do not. Even if I did, I would not divulge the information. If Sir Michael does not wish to be found, then we shall leave him in peace.” His tone broached no argument.
Sophia said, “Your friend is a coward.”
He stared her down, expecting an immediate apology from her, but the tigress only looked back at him.
“Miss Braighton, while you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever encountered, I’ll not allow you, or anyone, to slander my friends.”
“It’s only slander, if what I say is untrue, my lord.” Something flickered in her honeyed gaze when he’d called her beautiful. Perhaps joy, but likely vanity. All women love a compliment.
He didn’t know why he flattered her. He had no interest in the girl, or any other untried debutante, for that matter. She was beautiful, but they were all the same. Jocelyn had taught him that. He wouldn’t be made the fool ever again. “Since you have only just arrived in London, you may not be aware the Sir Michael is a war hero. He is most certainly not a coward. I think it would be best if we changed the subject. I would not wish to argue on our first meeting.”
She shrugged. “Next time perhaps? Or must one wait until the third meeting? I always forget that rule. There are so many here in London.”
She was delightful, and he laughed.
Many in the crowd turned at the sound.
Lady Dorothea stepped a few feet away.
“Where in the Americas did you live, Miss Braighton?”
“Philadelphia.”
He smiled. “I quite liked the city, and I did not notice a lack of rules to be found in society at large.”
When she smiled, her face was so bright with joy he struggled not to stumble over his own feet. Part of him wanted to move toward her, but his brain signaled danger. She intrigued him, but he stood his ground.
“You’re right. Rules, rules and more rules.” Her voice lilted. “You have traveled to America?”
“I spent a year there. I was in Philadelphia for several weeks. I only arrived back in London last month. How I miss the open sea.” He breathed deeply, recalling the smell of the ocean.
Her nose wrinkled and all the pleasure went out of her face. “You did not enjoy the voyage?”
“I’m afraid I was ill the entire time. I must have lost a stone during the crossing.” She pressed her fist to her stomach and pulled a face. Though she was slim, her gown revealed curves.
“If this is the result of your illness, I think you should travel more often, Miss Braighton.”
Her blush started in her cheeks and spread to the root of her hair and down until it disappeared beneath her intriguing gown. His mouth turned dry as a desert. “I must embarrass you more often, Miss Braighton. The effect is the most charming thing I have ever seen.”
She touched her cheek. “I wish I could stop that. I’m out of practice, not being out in society much the last few years.”
“No? How strange. Were you ill on land as well as at sea?” His gut tightened and not with lust as it had since first spotting her, but genuine concern for her health.
Thomas and Miss Burkenstock returned and Sophia let out a long breath. The stiffness of her stance eased as if she’d been saved from having to answer. Every thought in her head was clearly readable in those stunning eyes and kissable lips.
Daniel kept his word and asked Elinor for the next dance. Relief and longing washed over him as he walked away from Sophia.
“Will you grace me with a dance now, Miss Braighton?” Thomas asked.
She inclined her head, and they walked to the dance floor. It was a minuet and they had little time to speak. Sophia was glad for the time to think. What was happening to her? The earl walked in and her mind drifted toward thoughts of him. Her heart pounded and heat infused her cheeks. The dance ended too soon. She would have to dance with Daniel Fallon.
Escape seemed the only option. “Shall we get some lemonade, Mr. Wheel?”
“As you wish.”
They walked to the refreshment table. “How long have you known the earl?” The heat of the ballroom or the fine weather would have been much safer subjects.
“Which earl do you mean, Miss Braighton? I know quite a few gentlemen with that title.” He smiled.
“You know perfectly well which one.”
“Have I lost you already? Well, it would not be the first lovely woman I’ve lost to Daniel, but perhaps, you will be the last.”
“Don’t be absurd. I barely know him. He was very gracious to dance with Elinor.”
“I also danced with the silly girl.”
“You did it as a favor to me and don’t call her silly. She’s a lovely girl and if your friend hadn’t abandoned her, she would not be in this position.”
From across the room, her eyes filled with fire and she gestured right and left as she spoke to Thomas. He shouldn’t care about their conversation. It would be easy enough to leave the ball and go to his club as he and Thomas originally intended for the evening. Daniel wound his way through the crowd toward her.
As soon as she saw him, she frowned.
Seeing him displeased her, yet she was happy and animated with Thomas. Perhaps he had interrupted an intimate conversation. Friendship be dammed, he was going to pummel Thomas.
“Have you abandoned poor Elinor?” Her tone was like a mother scolding her child.
“Poor Elinor? Pardon me, Miss Burkenstock had a long line of dance partners awaiting her availability. Your plan seems to have worked.” He accepted a glass of lemonade, choked on the sour libation and put it back on the table.
“Oh, how wonderful.” She clapped her hands and smiled. His heart might explode.
“Now explain to me why your friend would leave in such a rush?” She looked from one to the other. “Does Mr. Rollins often make promises to young women and then run for the hills?”
“Never before that I’m aware of,” Thomas said.
A waltz began. “I believe you have promised me a dance, Miss Braighton.”
Her hazel eyes grew as large as saucers. She scanned the room. “I…I don’t have permission to dance a waltz.”
He followed her gaze to where Lady Collington sat amongst a group of dowager-aged women.
The Countess of Grafton watched with an unreadable expression.
He offered his arm. “It will be fine. I’m a great admirer of your aunt.”
Once she was in his arms and spinning around the floor to the count of three, she quieted.
Most young unmarried women spent the entire dance trying to impress him with all of their accomplishments. Sophia didn’t look up and bat her eyelashes or smile and try to press closer. Her warmth seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. The newest fashions left little to his imagination. He was on fire. She sparked in him feelings he’d sworn never to entertain again.
She cleared her throat. “What did you mean when you said you are an admirer of my aunt?”
“She is unique. I like someone who is not a sheep in the crowd and Lady Collington is an original. Some call her the cruel countess and perhaps they have some cause. She can be quite biting if vexed. She can also be a fierce and loyal ally. I quite like her.”
“The cruel countess. I suppose I can see why she’s gained that moniker.”
“Is she unkind to you?” He had no right to worry over her wellbeing but he couldn’t deny the spark of distress.
“No. Aunt Daphne has been very kind and thoughtful in her way. I just wish she would not have to be disappointed.” Sophia sighed heavily. Her breasts swelled over the low neck of her gown.
“Why would her ladyship ever be disappointed in you?”
She shook her head and her silken curls swished from side to side. “You will not tell me? Then I’ll guess. You are not the woman you appear to be. You are really the scullery maid from the Braighton house in America? No? You are her nephew, not her niece?”
She giggled.
He shook his head. “No, that cannot be it. You are already married?”
As he guessed, her mouth and eyes grew wider until she burst into a fit of giggles. She was adorable. “Enough.”
The sound had his heart beating so rapidly, he might have an episode, as if he was one of those horrible characters from a bad novel.
“I’ll tell you, if you promise to keep my secret.”
The dance ended, Daniel took her arm and walked swiftly to the veranda. His hand on her elbow left only his white glove separating skin from touching skin. The idea of actually feeling her flesh was heady. The cool night air helped to cool his desire.
She breathed deeply, causing her breasts to lift dangerously close to the edge of her gown’s neckline.
So much for the cooling effect of the night air.
She leaned over the veranda wall and looked out into the shadowy gardens, lit only by torches.
There were a few people lingering on the veranda—ladies getting away from the heat of the crowded ballroom and a few couples hiding behind Greek statues and Roman pillars.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” Her voice was small and far away.
He yearned for her thoughts. “You were going to tell me a secret.”
Heart-wrenching sorrow filled her eyes, and they glistened though no tears fell. She straightened her posture and raised her chin. This woman held herself as if she was a queen.
He wanted her more with every second spent in her presence.
She spoke for his ears only, but her whisper shook with intensity. “My secret is I shall never marry. I should have told my aunt, but my mother made me promise to try to enjoy the season and not ruin it with such thoughts.” As she said the last words, her voice had dropped into a lush Italian accent.
He supposed the accent was her mother’s. Thomas had said her mimicry was amusing, but there was no joke here.
Her face was open, and she absolutely believed she wouldn’t marry. Of course, it was ridiculous. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and quick-witted. He had gleaned all of this in only a short time in her presence. She had the body of a goddess. She would marry and probably well. He was sure she would have offers before the end of the month, if not sooner.
“I think you will marry.” Regret dripped from his voice.
“No.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she moved away to hide in the shadow of one of the pillars surrounding the veranda.
His mind screamed at him to apologize and walk away, but his body disobeyed, and he followed her into the shadows. He tugged the glove from his hand and gently caressed the soft skin from her elbow to the cap sleeve of her gown. He dropped his hand.
She turned, only a breath away. The warmth of her body reached him though they didn’t touch.
“Please do not cry.” The soft tone hardly resembled his voice. She moved him in a way no one else ever had.
“I won’t. I’m sorry to make such a scene.” She dabbed at her eyes. Once again, the tigress returned, sad, fierce, and distant. The tears made her seem even fiercer, somehow making her even more perfect. This was no stuffy debutante, with little thought for anyone but herself. She was soft, emotional, filled with life, and he wanted nothing else in the world but to pull her into his arms, to watch her tigress’s eyes close as his lips covered hers.
“I think I’m going to kiss you, Miss Braighton.” He inched closer.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped as he rubbed his lips lightly against hers.
“No.” The word was less than a whisper.
“Are you sure?” He asked, pressing his cheek to hers.
“I cannot like you.” Her voice was tight and the pitch high.
He was curious as to why she believed such a ridiculous thing, but had no opportunity to press further. A feminine throat cleared, and he stepped away from her.
“Sophia, there you are. Hello, my lord.” Dory Flammel stood only a few feet away. She pulled the Burkenstock girl behind her. “Lady Collington is looking for you. I believe she is tired and would like to go home.”
“Of course.” Sophia curtsied. “Thank you for the dance and the chat, my lord. Congratulations on a successful evening, Elinor. Dory, will I see you tomorrow?”
“I’ll call in the morning and we can go riding in the park.” Dory winked.
Sophia frowned at Dory, gave another hasty curtsy, and rushed into the ballroom to find Lady Collington. The Burkenstock girl chased after Sophia and they both disappeared in the crowd.
His stomach churned as he watched her go. She had said she would never marry and she specifically couldn’t like him? Unacceptable.
When he looked away from the windows, he found Lady Dorothea Flammel watching him. He narrowed his eyes at her assessing ones. “What is it you’re looking at, my lady?”
“I’m looking at a man smitten.” Her directness was out of order and yet refreshing among members of the ton.
“You see too much for your own good, my lady.”
“Some would say I see only what I wish to see, my lord. My brother, Markus, is quite fond of you.”
Daniel smiled. “Markus, Thomas, Michael and I were quite inseparable throughout our time at Eton. I still consider all three my closest friends. I do not see Markus much, as I have been away and he is happily settled, but I would bleed for him, should he ask it of me.”
Dory cringed. “Let us hope it does not come to that. Will you break my new friend’s heart? I have only known her for a few days, but I’m already quite fond of her. I would hate to see her harmed in any way.”
“Are you asking me to extend my friendship with your brother to you, my lady?”
“I’ll not ask you to bleed.”
“I have no intention of pursuing Miss Braighton.”
“I see.” Her tone held just the right touch of doubt.
“As I said, you see entirely too much.”
She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. The smile might have been for his benefit or the group of people who stepped onto the veranda. She waited for the group to move away. “Did you know Jocelyn was a close friend of mine? I know much of what transpired between you two was kept quiet, but she came to me after you broke off the engagement.”
His body stiffened at the mention of the woman he’d once planned to marry. Rage replaced his earlier emotions.
She smiled more kindly at him. “She came to my home and cried out her story. When she was finished, I told her I was very sorry for her. I was sorry. Sorry she had been such a fool. Sorry she had such low character, she thought so little of herself, and she would give herself away with no thought of honor. Sorry I had misjudged her. I asked her to leave my house and cut off our friendship. She called me terrible names before my brother intervened. It was an ugly scene. Until that moment, I had not realized how important it was to be able to judge a person’s character.”
His anger ebbed. “A valuable lesson.”
“Indeed.”
“I had not realized anyone else was hurt by Jocelyn’s behavior.”
“We have something in common, my lord.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Dory waved a gloved hand and pushed back a wayward curl. “None of what transpired was your fault, my lord. You should forgive yourself and perhaps, find someone you can trust to marry.” She turned and left him on the veranda, giving him no chance to respond.
White’s Gentleman’s Club was crowded when Daniel and Thomas arrived late in the evening. They found a small table in one of the parlors and ordered brandy.
“So, what did you think of my goddess?” Thomas’s eyes twinkled with mirth.
Daniel lowered his glass and looked at his long-time friend. “I think I do not care for you calling her that.”
Thomas laughed. “I suspected as much. You, my friend, are smitten. The question is, will you do anything about it, or will you continue to let that light-skirt you were engaged to ruin your life?”
Pure fury bubbled in his chest. His instinct still told him to defend his ex-fiancée, but he shrugged and steadied his emotions. It was, after all, the truth. “I’ll marry eventually. I have to, but it will not be Sophia Braighton.
“I will find someone with whom I can have an agreeable marriage. I shall leave Sophia for someone else. I would just prefer if it were not you.”
“You are a fool, Dan. I saw the way you looked at her and the way she looked at you. She is going to haunt you for the rest of your life as your one big mistake if you do not pursue your interest.”
His gut tightened and a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his neck. “You may be right.” He took a long swallow of brandy. “However, I should rather be a fool privately, than to have my stupidity displayed before all of London once again.”
Thomas shook his head. “What do you suppose possessed Michael to leave London? You don’t really think he would run because of being caught with the Burkenstock girl, do you?”
Daniel sipped his brandy. “I spoke to him a few days before the incident, and I had the impression he was going to offer for that silly chit. She is quite rich and not terribly hard to look at. I’m not sure why he ran. He did mention something about an opportunity with some grain he was going to buy, in hopes of raising enough money to do some work at his estate in Essex.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he wants to come to the marriage negotiations with more than empty hands and no prospects. He had better hurry. She is rich, quite pretty, and none too smart. She may find herself another before he returns.”
“If she is so fickle, he is better off without her.”
Tipping back his glass, Thomas finished his drink. “The girl has no reason to wait. From what I know, he left her no assurances. It’s not at all the same as what Jocelyn did to you. You had signed a contract. She knew you would marry her. Hell, I think you loved her. She was not the kind of woman who would ever have been faithful, and she was not smart enough to be discreet. You are right about one thing—you are better off without Jocelyn.”
“I did not love her,” he said softly. “I thought I did for a moment, but it was only lust and desire. She was beautiful and charming. She might have been discreet, but I was just too diligent in my desire to see her. If I had kept away, I would never have discovered them. She claimed to be under the weather. I thought to surprise her and spend the evening in her company, even if it was playing backgammon in the parlor, anything to be near her. What a fool I was. When I arrived, I found her in the parlor, but she and Swanery were not playing backgammon. Their game has been played between men and women since the beginning of time.”
“My God, man, you never said anything about having caught her red- handed. What did you do?”
Old anger boiled. He still saw his beloved under that sod on the chaise. “What any English gentleman would do. I bowed, punched Swanery in the jaw, turned and left the house.”
“What did Jocelyn do?”
The ugly hatred he still harbored for the woman bubbled to the surface. “She screamed horrible names at me. She used words I had never heard a woman utter, even in the gaming hells from women of questionable virtue.”
“I don’t think there was much question.” Thomas referred to the whores’ virtue.
“No, and neither was there in regard to Jocelyn. She was every inch the harlot that those women in the gaming hells were. At least with a prostitute you know what you are getting. Jocelyn was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And you are correct, I’m much better off without her.
“Michael will turn up at some point, either to claim Miss Burkenstock, or to find a new chit with a fortune. He has no choice. He must repair the damage his father has done.”
“You’re right, of course.” Thomas called for another brandy.