by Dawn Brower
“You wound me.” His gaze lit with mischief as he turned away from her once more.
Though she could not deny that the gentleman had captured her interest, she had no intention of being pursued by him. She caught his gaze as they turned back toward each other. “You should know that I have no interest in marrying this season.”
“Nor do I,” he drawled.
His seductive tone caused Tabitha’s cheeks to warm and she found herself grateful for the mask that hid them from his view. She graced her partner with a smile as they approached the top of the line. “I wish to guess your identity?”
“Do go on.” He brushed his hand against hers, sending a pleasant chill up her arm.
Tabitha studied him for a moment, hoping to gain some clues from his build. Her eyes traveled across what she could see of his face, down to his wide shoulders and tapered waist. He was rather tall and she discovered a few wayward locks of sandy brown hair peeking out from beneath the hood of his domino. Still, she had no idea who the gentleman might be. “Lord Cabot?” she guessed.
“Try again, my lady.”
“Mr. Warthington?” She met his gaze with a small smile.
“I am not nary that old.” He gave a roguish grin.
“Lord Gareth? Lord Huffington? Or Mr. Haroldson?” She tossed out a string of guesses, then laughed as he shook his head, denouncing each one. “Very well. I haven’t a clue, though I would very much like to know.”
“I am your fondest admirer,” he said as they parted to take their places in line.
When the set concluded, he led Tabitha back to her sister.
“Until we meet again.” He gave a slight bow, then turned and walked away.
Tabitha watched as he disappeared into the crush of lords and ladies, his words ringing in her mind—until we meet again.
“Who was that?” Priscilla nudged Tabitha with her elbow.
“I have no idea.”
Chapter 3
The ton is all agog, attempting to figure out who the mysterious masked gentlemen who disappeared from the Baxtor masquerade shortly before the unmasking were. One cannot help but wonder if a certain duke’s daughter knows the answer. She and one of the mysterious gentlemen seemed to be enjoying each other immensely as they danced. Might love be on the horizon?
-Whispers from Lady X
Tabitha inhaled the sweet scent of the single red rose that was delivered moments ago. While she was accustomed to receiving flowers and small trinkets no one had ever sent her a single red rose before. Lowering the silky blossom, she flipped the card over to read the words printed upon it.
Meet me in Hyde Park near the Serpentine at noon.
-Your fondest admirer.
Her pulse sped as she wondered if she should dare go. He could be dangerous. Perhaps a blackguard looking to steal her innocence? For reasons she could not understand or explain, the thought thrilled her. But what if she were entirely wrong and he was hunting for a wife?
“Should I send it back, my lady?” the footman asked.
She snapped her gaze to his. “No. I’ll keep this one.”
“Very well.” The footman bowed and retreated from the room.
Tabitha strolled from the parlor, walked down the hall, then ascended the stairs on her way to her room. She held the rose, glancing down at it occasionally as she made her way through the house. Rounding the corner into her chamber she started at the unexpected sight of Priscilla seated near her window. “You scared me. I wasn’t expecting to find you stashed away in my room.”
Priscilla laughed. “I am sorry. That was not my intent. Though I must admit, watching you jump was humorous.”
“Indeed.” Tabitha shot a half-hearted scowl at her sister.
“Did you chance to read Lady X’s gossip column today?”
Tabitha angled her head toward Priscilla, peering. “What did you do?”
“Not me”—Priscilla placed her glove covered hand on her bosom—“You.”
Tabitha’s eyes rounded as her sister's words sank in. “Me?”
“Yes, you. It seems that Lady X believes you may know who your mystery dance partner was.” Priscilla grinned. “She even speculated that love may be on the horizon.”
“Nonsense.” Steeling her features, Tabitha moved to her vanity and dropped the rose on its polished mahogany surface. “Not only do I not know who he was, but I couldn’t care less either.”
“Where did that come from?” Priscilla stood and strolled to the vanity.
Tabitha turned to block the rose with her backside. “It’s nothing.”
Priscilla reached around her and retrieved the bloom before reading the card. She met Tabitha’s gaze. “You never keep flowers.”
“This one seemed too perfect to cast away.” Tabitha pretended nonchalance. “I am surprised you were not the topic of Lady X’s column considering you danced twice with Lord Fairchild.”
Ignoring her, Priscilla sat the rose back on the vanity. “Are you planning to go?”
“No. Yes… Maybe.” Tabitha sighed. "I admit that I am mildly intrigued."
Priscilla grinned, her whole face lighting.
“Do not go getting ideas. I only wish to discover his identity. Nothing more.”
“Very well,” Priscilla said.
“I am not the least bit interested in being courted,” Tabitha said with conviction in her tone. She did not care how much the gentleman captured her interest. Even if he proved to be the handsomest man in all of England, with the most charming personality to boot, she would not allow him to court her. This was her season, her chance to experience life before settling into the role of wife, and no doubt, mother. She would not compromise it.
“I cannot help but wonder if we are going about this all wrong. Perhaps allowing gentleman that interest us to come calling would add to our season rather than proving detrimental.” Priscilla smoothed her skirt. “Courtship is part of the experience, after all. Is it not?”
“Courtship leads to marriage. We will have time for all that next season.” Tabitha opened her dressing room door and strolled inside.
Priscilla followed, then pulled Tabitha’s plum riding habit down. “Wear this one. It makes your eyes stand out.”
“I am not trying to make any of my attributes stand out.” Tabitha reached for her plainest habit of dull grey velvet.
“Oh, Tabby. You’ll look like an old matron in that one.” Priscilla yanked it from her arms. “Wear the plum.”
Tabitha could not stop the laughter that bubbled up. “Since it matters so much to you, I will.” In truth, she did want to look nice for the mysterious gentleman. Just because she did not want to be courted didn’t mean that she did not want to be admired.
Dressed in her favorite half boots, the plum riding habit, along with matching kidskin gloves and a wide-brimmed bonnet, Tabitha strolled along the Serpentine. Noon had come and gone some time ago with no indication that the mysterious gentleman was near.
Had he lured her here with no real intention of meeting her? Why would he do such a thing? She appraised her surroundings once more. Perhaps he was about and simply did not recognize her. She pulled the now wilting rose from her reticule and began plucking g its petals one by one. If he were around, he should recognize the clue. If he were not, well then she had something to take her aggravation out on.
After dropping the final petal into the water of the Serpentine, Tabitha released a huff of breath. She’d wasted enough of her time. With annoyance heating her blood and souring her mood, she returned to her chaperone and mounted her horse to return home.
Her fondest admirer could stuff his nonsense up his arse!
“You're truly not going after her?” Reginald looked aghast. “How do you expect to woo her if you do not spend time with her?”
“Stop fretting.” Colin grinned. “One must have patience with a woman like that.”
Colin had watched Lady Tabitha from the moment she’d arrived. He studied her as she strolled along the Se
rpentine and chuckled as she’d decimated the rose he’d sent her. He had no doubt at all that he’d piqued her interest. Now he need only keep it long enough to entice a kiss from her.
Reginald turned his mount toward rotten row. “I should not be encouraging you at any rate. Still, curiosity will not allow me to keep quiet, so I must ask…what is your next move?”
“She will return home to a note along with a fresh rose.” Colin set his stallion into a cantor. “I had it sent at the same time we left for the park.”
“Oh? And what does it say?”
“I’m not going to tell you all of my secrets.” Colin chuckled as they joined the masses of lords and ladies out for an afternoon ride.
“Your secrets would be of no use to me anyway.” Reginald tipped his hat to a passing rider. “I see no benefit in the games you play.”
Colin had a smart retort on the tip of his tongue but swallowed it back. He had good reason for behaving as he did. For one thing, it worked. He’d yet to meet a lady who he could not conquer using his tactics. More importantly, by maintaining a distance, he was able to protect his heart. Tease, please, leave. The formula had never failed him.
Chapter 4
There is no better occasion than a ball to provide fodder for the gossips. One can hardly wait to see what will happen at the Loxton ball. Fear not, I will be watching with a keen eye toward the Duke’s most sought after daughters.
-Whispers from Lady X
Colin studied Lady Tabitha from the corner of the Loxton’s ballroom. The clock would soon strike midnight, after which she would sneak off to meet him in the conservatory. He spared a glance at Reginald who at this very moment danced with Lady Priscilla. He had been paying an absurd amount of attention to the lady this evening and Colin could not help but wonder at the reason. Perhaps he wished to see which of them could secure a kiss from the sisters first?
The clock chimed, bringing his attention back to Lady Tabitha. She stood near the ballroom door with her fan concealing part of her face as she gazed out at the crush of guests. Her eyes narrowed as she swept them over the room. Lowering her fan, she turned and disappeared into the hallway.
Colin began toward the hall, pausing at the refreshment table to retrieve a flute of champagne. He took his time drinking the bubbly contents. He did not wish to leave Lady Tabitha waiting overlong but did want to grant her a few minutes to speculate before his arrival. Would she drink the champagne he had set up in the conservatory? Would he find her mouth sweet with the flavor of strawberries she’d enjoyed as she awaited him?
Setting his flute on the refreshment table, he strolled from the ballroom. Confidence filled him as he made his way to the conservatory. He had little doubt that Lady Tabitha would be ripe for his taking. He slid into the floral scented room and made his way through the mass of potted ferns, flowers, and fruit trees. As he neared the fountain in the center of the conservatory, he stopped behind a rather large fern to watch his quarry.
Lady Tabitha stood with her hip cocked and her arms folded across her chest. She did not hold a flute in her gloved hand, nor did she appear to have eaten any of the berries. In fact, she appeared to be rather cross. Not at all what he’d expected.
“My lady.” Colin stepped out from behind the fern. “I thank you for accepting my apology and joining me this evening.”
“I’ve accepted nothing.” Lady Tabitha pivoted on her heel and began marching down the path toward the exit.
“Then why are you here?” He caught up to her and placed a hand on her elbow, stilling her.
“Sheer curiosity.” She tossed the words over her shoulder.
He stepped in front of her, staring into her captivating gaze. “And the mere sight of me has quenched it?”
“Indeed it has.” She notched her chin in defiance but made no attempt to leave.
He gave a roguish grin, finding encouragement in her failure to leave. “Might I enquire as to how?”
“I have no wish to start a scandal.” Despite her words, Lady Tabitha’s eyes danced with mischief.
“Mores-the-pity,” Colin said in a lazy, drawn-out tone.
Lady Tabitha released a huff a breath and turned from him. “I am well aware of your reputation, Lord Harcourt.”
“Then you are also well aware that I have no intention of being caught.”
She turned back, her brow furrowed. “What exactly are your intentions?”
“Come indulge in a glass of champagne. Allow me the pleasure of your company for a few moments.” He found himself suddenly looking forward to becoming better acquainted with the stubborn beauty. He’d thought her prudish and proper, but now… The twinkle in her eyes belied something much more and he desired to explore it.
“I do not think it wise.”
“You are most likely right in your assessment.” He chuckled, leaning his hip against the stone fountain. “However you could have fun, and if you leave, you will always wonder what might have come of it had you stayed.” He lifted a flute from the silver tray resting on the edge of the fountain and held it out to her. “One glass.”
He watched as her stance softened; her chin lowering, shoulders rounding. She took a tentative step toward him as the hint of a smile crested her lips. “Perhaps one will prove tolerable.”
Chuckling at her antics, he handed her the flute. Had he known she would be so amusing, he would have made her acquaintance some time ago. He had the sudden urge to discover more about her, a true wish to understand her—to know her. “Tell me why it is that you turn away all of your suitors.”
“That isn’t any of your business.” She tossed back the champagne in one long drink before handing the flute back to him. “Good night, Lord Harcourt.”
He watched the sway of her hips as she sauntered away. That had not gone at all as he’d imagined. Somehow the minx had turned the tables on him and now he found himself without anymore tricks up his coat-sleeve – and utterly captivated. Well, perhaps he had one ace yet to play.
Colin pushed away from the fountain, determined not to let her get away so fast. He quickened his pace as she pushed open the door to the corridor, catching her by the elbow as she stepped through it. “Wait.”
“For what?”
He brought his lips down on hers, and to his surprise, she yielded for an instant before pushing him away.
“What the devil do you think you're doing?” she said through clenched teeth.
He grinned, amusement overriding his passion. “Do not tell me that you’ve never been kissed.”
Her cheeks stained with color, betraying her innocence. “Again, that is none of your business and I’d bid you never to do that again.”
“What? Ask a personal question? Or this?” He brought his lips back to hers, pulling her against him. Heat ignited within him as she opened, allowing him to taste her succulent mouth. Kissing her was proving far more enjoyable than he’d believed it would.
He skimmed one hand down her back toward her rear, then gave a gentle squeeze.
Lady Tabitha released a yelp and pushed out of his embrace before racing down the corridor back to the ballroom.
Colin remained where he stood until she was well and truly out of reach. He needed the distance as much as she did, for the woman had sparked a fierce longing in him. One that begged to be satisfied. Perhaps he should find Reginald then depart for one of his clubs—or better yet, a house of ill repute where his desire could be satiated.
With his mind made up, Colin went in search of Reginald. It did not surprise him that his friend failed to be in the ballroom, or the card room for that matter. He’d no doubt snuck off to some secluded spot with a warm and willing lady. Lucky devil! Well, he’d not ruin Reginald's good fortune merely to keep him apprised of his intention to leave.
Chapter 5
Is love brewing? Or is it simply a delicious scandal? Only Lady Tabitha and Lord Harcourt know, but after the kiss shared between the lady and rogue at the Loxton ball, it will not remain a secret for lo
ng.
-Whispers from Lady X
Tabitha spent most of the night reliving the kiss she’d shared with Lord Harcourt. Not the first one, but the second—that was delicious. She could not help but wonder what it would be like to enjoy him without restraint. No doubt the rake was a skilled lover.
“Whatever has you so distracted this morning?” Priscilla asked, one brow arched.
Tabitha’s cheeks warmed. “Nothing.” She took a bite from the biscuit she’d been holding.
“Rubbish. I can tell when you are lost in thought. You get that faraway look in your eyes and fiddle mindlessly with whatever you can get your hands on.”
Tabitha sighed, searching her mind for something to tell her sister—anything but the truth would suffice. A small smile tugged her lips when she met Priscilla’s gaze. “Very well. If you must know, I was speculating as to why you allowed that wastrel, Lord Lovell, to escort you onto the terrace last night.”
Tabitha had meant to ask Priscilla about the incident sooner, but she’d been so busy woolgathering that she’d forgotten all about it. The two of them ought to be more careful. Spending time with renowned rakes could only get them in trouble—and not the good sort.
Priscilla’s hand froze halfway to her mouth, her fork suspended over her plate. “He is not a wastrel.”
“The devil if he isn’t. He is one of London’s best-known rogues.”
Priscilla narrowed her gaze, dropping her fork back to her plate. “That does not make him a wastrel. Besides, I am rather fond of Reginald.”
“You are on a first-name basis? This is worse than I suspected.” Tabitha leaned forward, propping her elbows on the mahogany table. “Please, tell me you haven’t allowed him to compromise you?”
“Of course not!” Priscilla looked indignant as she reached for her tea. “I am not bird-witted, as you well ought to know. I have no intention of becoming ruined before my wedding night, but while we are discussing it…” She angled her head, studying Tabitha. “Where did you get off to last night?”