Lady Wicked: Notorious Ladies of London Book 4
Page 30
“I do not dance,” she warned him.
“Excellent.” He grinned, revealing his dimples and a neat line of teeth. “Neither do I.”
Dear Dorset. The handsome fellow was not taking a hint. Where was the footman with the champagne when she needed him?
“I want to drink,” she elaborated, “and watch my guests in their revelries. That is all, my lord.”
“My dear duchess.” His grin turned to a smirk. “I know not what rumors you have heard about me, but allow me to reassure you that I have no wish to do anything aside from drinking and watching. Indeed, watching is a favorite indulgence of mine.”
There was no doubt that he had issued a double entendre, and that the watching he referred to did not involve ballroom quadrilles but rather bedchamber romps. Once, when she had been younger, wilder, and more desperate to escape the misery of her circumstances, she may have been intrigued. But no longer. She was free now, but her heart was still trapped in a gilded cage of its own making.
Tilly was about to change the subject and steer their conversation into safer territory when her eye caught upon a man whose back faced her. He stood across the crush of the ballroom, scarcely twenty paces, and when her gaze settled upon him, it was as if all the breath had been thieved from her lungs. There was something about the way he stood, the breadth of his shoulders, and his uncommon height, a head above all the men and women surrounding him, that was familiar.
Too familiar.
Desperately, achingly familiar.
Her heart sped up. Her mouth went dry. Hope, long dormant, flared to life.
“Robin.”
His name fled her lips as a whisper and a prayer, all its own.
“I beg your pardon?” Dorset was asking at her side, likely as flummoxed as she felt.
It could not be. Could it? She had spent all her pin money, had sold jewelry, and risked her husband’s wrath to hire investigators to find him. Her good friend the Earl of Sinclair and his wife had aided her. Every hint, each clue, regardless of how initially promising, had eventually led nowhere.
The man she loved had vanished.
“Forgive me,” she murmured to Dorset, unable to tear her gaze away from the other man. “I see a friend I must greet.”
She did not wait for the marquess to respond. Her feet were moving. Her body was careening forward like a carriage set into motion. The distance was closing between herself and the stranger who possessed a bearing so similar to Robin’s.
His hair was different, she noted. Longer. Lighter.
It was not him. How could his hair have changed? She was seeing what she wanted to see. The champagne had rendered her quite mad.
Unless she was mistaken in the particular shade of Robin’s formerly cropped locks? She had not even a picture of him to recall him by, something she would forever regret. So much time had passed since she had seen him. Too much. A lifetime, it seemed.
And still, she was moving, the lights and the colors and the sounds swirling around her. She remained intent upon her course, on proving it was him. Or that it wasn’t. Either way, she was beyond the ability to control herself…
He moved. His gait was labored, stiff. And that was wrong, too. Robin had not limped. He had moved effortlessly, fluidly, with a gracefulness few possessed, as if the world had been fashioned for him alone.
That was when she noticed the walking stick the mystery gentleman clutched. When she took note of the long, elegant fingers clasping the gold handle as he leaned on it for purchase. When she saw the ring on his smallest finger.
Her heart stopped.
Her breath stopped.
The whole bloody world stopped.
Because she recognized that ring. She had gifted it to him. The gold glinted beneath the light of the chandeliers. So, too, the sapphire that matched his eyes. A lion’s head with the jewel in its mouth, the very design she had commissioned for Robin.
She reached the man, her hand landing on his elbow. The barest hint of a touch. But the awareness she had always felt for Robin skipped up her arm like sparks, burning, fiery, bright. A brand of the most painful and delicious sort. One she felt on her heart.
Recognition hit her before he turned. Before those stormy blue eyes she had gazed into so many times clashed with hers. Before she saw the mouth that had kissed her senseless all those nights.
But then, he was facing her. And it was him. It was Robin. Her heart knew it. Her body knew it. There was a roaring in her ears. Her vision grew dark around the edges. Shock kept her still, rooted to the parquet floor. Everyone and everything else fell away.
There was only the man she had wept over. The man she had believed dead.
“Robin,” she whispered, clutching him as if she feared he would disappear if she did not maintain her hold on him, familiar and improper though it was.
“Mr. Adrian Hastings, madam,” he said, his voice the same and yet different. Colder. Harsher. Unfamiliar and yet so heartbreakingly the same. He bowed. “I do not believe I have made your acquaintance.”
Adrian Hastings? Who was this man? This stranger who was familiar and yet…different?
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More by Scarlett Scott…
Complete Book List
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Heart’s Temptation
A Mad Passion (Book One)
Rebel Love (Book Two)
Reckless Need (Book Three)
Sweet Scandal (Book Four)
Restless Rake (Book Five)
Darling Duke (Book Six)
The Night Before Scandal (Book Seven)
Wicked Husbands
Her Errant Earl (Book One)
Her Lovestruck Lord (Book Two)
Her Reformed Rake (Book Three)
Her Deceptive Duke (Book Four)
Her Missing Marquess (Book Five)
Her Virtuous Viscount (Book Six)
League of Dukes
Nobody’s Duke (Book One)
Heartless Duke (Book Two)
Dangerous Duke (Book Three)
Shameless Duke (Book Four)
Scandalous Duke (Book Five)
Fearless Duke (Book Six)
Notorious Ladies of London
Lady Ruthless (Book One)
Lady Wallflower (Book Two)
Lady Reckless (Book Three)
Lady Wicked (Book Four)
Lady Lawless (Book Five)
The Wicked Winters
Wicked in Winter (Book One)
Wedded in Winter (Book Two)
Wanton in Winter (Book Three)
Wishes in Winter (Book 3.5)
Willful in Winter (Book Four)
Wagered in Winter (Book Five)
Wild in Winter (Book Six)
Wooed in Winter (Book Seven)
Winter’s Wallflower (Book Eight)
Winter’s Woman (Book Nine)
Winter’s Whispers (Book Ten)
Winter’s Waltz (Book Eleven)
Winter’s Widow (Book Twelve)
Winter’s Warrior (Book Thirteen)
Stand-alone Novella
Lord of Pirates
Reprieve (Book One)
Perfect Persuasion (Book Two)
Win My Love (Book Three)
Coastal Heat
Loved Up (Book One)
About the Author
USA Today and Amazon bestselling author Scarlett Scott writes steamy Victorian and Regency romance with strong, intelligent heroines and sexy alpha heroes. She lives in Pennsylvania with her Canadian husband, adorable identical twins, and one TV-loving dog.
A self-professed literary junkie and nerd, she loves reading anything, but especially romance novels, poetry, and Middle English verse. Catch up with her on her website http://www.scarlettscottauthor.com/. Hearing from readers never fails to make her day.
Scarlett’s complete book list and information about upcoming releases can be found at http://www.scarlettscottauthor.com/.
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