She went into his arms with a coy glance. You’d like me on my knees again, wouldn’t you, Willy? I’ll hold out the possibility as a lure. You were easy to hook, but the trick will be keeping you on the line until you are caught. “You showed me some exciting dance steps. You are a wonderful teacher . . . I quite enjoyed my lesson.”
“We both seem to enjoy the same things. If we practice, we may achieve perfection.”
“Yes, I agree we are a well-matched pair.” She licked her lips suggestively.
“Shall we see if we can find a secluded spot where we can . . . communicate?”
“How can I resist such an alluring proposal? But first, let’s indulge in a drink.”
“ ’Tis said that champagne lowers the inhibitions.”
“And tickles the tongue.”
Burlington’s cock bucked at mention of her tongue and he led her into the crowded supper room to ply her with champagne.
Georgy accepted the glass he offered and toyed with it in a provocative manner. She ran her finger around the rim, dipped it into the wine, then popped it into her mouth and sucked on it. “Mm, delicious!” She repeated the provocation, then drained the glass.
Burlington reached for her hand.
“I’d like another, before you lead me into temptation,” she murmured seductively. She accepted a second glass. “Thank you. This will really whet my appetite.” Georgy glanced around the supper room looking for a plausible excuse she could use for not following through on a sexual encounter with Burlington. Tonight she did not want to leave him satisfied; she wanted to leave him craving for her luscious mouth.
“Teddy, please forgive me. I completely forgot I had promised the next waltz to you. I am so sorry you had to come looking for me.” She drained her champagne glass and murmured to Burlington, “He’s a close friend of the family. I don’t dare disappoint him.” She glanced down at the bulge in William’s trousers. “I’ll smoke that cigar later.”
Teddy led her from the supper room. “What was all that about?”
Georgy decided to play one against the other. “He’s totally captivated. I have reason to believe he’s considering a match with the Duke of Bedford’s daughter.”
“Damn good thing he doesn’t suspect what we were up to earlier.”
“Oh, I don’t know. He might find a wife with experience extremely rewarding.”
It wasn’t until the last dance in the early hours of the morning that James Hamilton offered to partner Lady Lu. She had fully expected him to seek her out all night. When he did not, she asked herself if she felt relief or disappointment.
His eyes smiled down at her. “I’ve saved the best for last.”
“Flattery, begod.” She gave him back his own words. “You must have an ulterior motive.”
“Self-preservation. If I’d asked you earlier, you would have turned me down.”
“You are an astute devil.”
“Is that a criticism or a compliment?”
“I suppose it is both. I admire your shrewdness yet detest the fact that you know me so well. Your powers of observation are much keener than those of other men.”
“Here is what I have observed about you, Louisa. Though you have your mother’s exquisite beauty, you are not a social butterfly. You don’t really enjoy these balls.”
“I find having a season offensive. Debutantes are presented on a tray like fancy desserts so that gentlemen can take their pick. To me, it is demeaning.”
“You prefer dancing alone on a stage to dancing in a crowded ballroom with a man partnering you and forcing you to follow his steps. You like to be admired from afar.”
“And here is what I have observed about you, Abercorn. Your charming surface masks a will of iron. You have a dominant and determined nature, and you enjoy being in control. Yet underneath it all, you yearn to be part of a large, loving family.”
“Then you may as well say yes now, and have done with it.”
She caught her breath. Are you proposing to me? She saw the teasing light in his eyes. No, you are laughing at me, you Irish devil!
Chapter Eleven
“Madame Madeleine’s, on Bond Street.” Georgy gave the Russell coachman the address of the fashionable modiste. Since she had ruined the lavender silk by spilling something sticky on it, she was to be fitted for a new ball gown.
“I’m not coming in with you,” Louisa informed her sister.
“You sly puss, you have an assignation! Who are you meeting? Not Teddy, I hope.”
“Don’t be daft, Georgy. If you must know, I’m going to the theater to see the matinee performance of The Brigand. When the coachman drops us off, I’ll take a hackney to Covent Garden.”
“But you’ve already seen it.”
“I could see it every day for a month and still not tire of it. I love everything about the theater.”
“But I wanted you to help me pick a style and a color. You have better fashion sense than I have. Besides, Mother would be furious if she knew you were wandering about London on your own.”
“I’m trusting you not to tell her. But I’d wager that when Mother was my age, she went wherever she pleased.”
“Well, you can return the favor when I have something to hide. But I still think it’s selfish of you to abandon me to Madame Madeleine.”
The sisters alighted on Bond Street and the coachman went to find a nearby place where he could park the carriage. As soon as he drove on, Louisa crossed to the opposite side and hailed a hackney.
“Kathleen . . . Kitty, you seem to have settled in quite nicely.”
“James, how will I ever thank you for providing me with such a fine place to live?”
“I consider it my duty to make sure you are safe while living in London, Kitty.” He looked around the apartment he had leased for her in the respectable house on Maiden Lane. He didn’t tell her that he had paid the landlady to keep an eye on her. “I’m glad you like it here. Since you have a matinee performance this afternoon, why don’t I escort you to the theater? I believe Covent Garden is within walking distance.”
“That’s one of the things I love about it. Maiden Lane is handy to everything.”
James helped her with her cloak then watched her lock the door with her own key. They walked past Rules Restaurant at the end of the street. “I believe this is the oldest eating house in London. I’ll take you to dine here one night after your performance.”
“That would be lovely. It’s very elegant. Lots of famous people dine here.”
James smiled. “You may be famous one day. I’ll be able to say that I knew Kitty Kelly when she was in the chorus.”
Kitty laughed, imagining herself the toast of the town, and perhaps Lord Abercorn’s mistress, if she were lucky enough.
As they crossed Covent Garden toward the theater, James was surprised to see Louisa Russell alight from a hackney cab. As he watched her approach the box office, he realized she would be attending the performance. Moreover, she was entirely alone. He escorted Kitty to the stage door entrance and bade her good-bye.
As he walked back to the front of the theater, it didn’t take him long to decide to buy a ticket to attend the matinee performance. He entered the theater and gazed up at the Russell family’s box. It was empty and he concluded that Louisa must be sitting in the audience. He waited until the lights went down and the curtain began to rise; then he walked down the aisle, scanning the patrons. He saw her sitting close to the stage in the front row and quietly took a seat behind her. She was completely focused on the performers on the stage and totally oblivious of the people around her.
James smiled to himself as he heard her quietly singing the lyrics. He knew that she longed to be up there performing. She was enjoying herself, so he decided to wait until intermission to make his presence known. As the curtain came down and the audience clapped and whistled its appreciation, he bent forward and murmured, “Lady Lu is obviously stagestruck.”
Startled, she turned and glared at him.
“You simian dolt! I almost jumped out of my skin.”
He grinned. “Because I caught you doing something wicked.”
“I have never done anything wicked in my life,” she hissed.
“Not yet you haven’t . . . but wouldn’t you just love to?” he teased.
“I’d love to stab you in the eye with my hatpin!”
“Bloodthirsty wench. Wouldn’t it be more exciting to go backstage after the performance?”
Louisa caught her breath. “Would that be possible?”
“I might be persuaded to arrange it.”
She raised her chin and challenged, “At what price?”
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “What price would you be willing to pay?”
“You devil!” She turned her back on him and made her mind up to completely ignore him. Could he really take me backstage?
She sat with her back straight, staring at the maroon velvet curtain. She wasn’t looking at him, but that didn’t mean she was unaware of him. How dare he follow me into the theater! His presence behind her was both compelling and disturbing. What is it about Abercorn that arouses my anger? She knew the answer. He was far too perceptive . He can read me like a bloody book!
After the intermission, the lights went down and the curtain rose. Once again she became so absorbed in the performance that she almost forgot he was there. Almost.
His presence, however, did not detract from her enjoyment. If anything, it was engagingly provocative and added a certain piquancy.
When the musical ended and the final curtain came down, Louisa applauded with great enthusiasm. She became aware of Abercorn clapping behind her and glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I take it you don’t wish to go backstage?”
She hesitated for long moments, then blurted, “You know damn well I wish to go.”
James masked his amusement. “Then I shall take you. Without any strings attached . . . this time.”
Her pulse raced with excitement. They stood together in the aisle until the audience filed out. Then Abercorn led the way backstage. Her heart hammered as she gazed about, drinking in the behind-the-scenes magic. There was a clutter of ropes, scenery, stage props, and costumes. Actors and performers of both sexes mingled about, laughing, cursing, and singing. All seemed a blur of vivid, colorful confusion that filled Louisa’s senses with exhilaration. Just to breathe the same air as the performers filled her with excitement. She inhaled the exotic scents of makeup, sweat, and musty garments as if it were the elixir of life. “It’s all so thrilling!”
James watched the wonder on her face and it filled him with pleasure. He knew he had made her happy and he realized he wanted to do it every day for the rest of her life. “This way.” He walked a direct path to a door marked dressing room and knocked.
“Enter,” a chorus of female voices sang out.
Abercorn opened the door and ushered Louisa inside where a bevy of females were in various stages of undress. Mirrors lined one wall and in front of the mirrors was a long shelf that held makeup and wigs. Costumes were strewn about everywhere.
“James! You stayed for the performance.” Kitty was clearly delighted.
“Yes. I brought my friend . . . Jane . . . to meet you. The stage fascinates her.” He looked at Louisa and again used her middle name. “Jane, I’d like you to meet Kitty Kelly.”
Louisa gazed at the pretty girl’s lovely red hair. “I’m thrilled to meet you. It must be so exciting to sing and dance before an audience. I’ve seen The Brigand twice and fully intend to come again. I already know all the words to the songs you sing and all the dance steps.”
“Sure and I’m glad you enjoyed it, Jane.”
She heard the lilt in the girl’s voice. She’s Irish. That’s how he knows her. Perhaps she’s more than a friend. Louisa’s blood slowed in her veins as her sister’s words came back to her: A dancer can’t manage without a man to pay her bills. Girls on the stage have lovers to pay for their rooms, and clothes, and carriages. She felt her heart constrict. Kitty is his mistress! She told herself that all young men had mistresses. It matters naught to me . . . I don’t care if Abercorn has a dozen!
She was covered with chagrin as it dawned on her that he hadn’t followed her into the theater after all. He had come to watch Kitty Kelly perform. Louisa turned to address Hamilton. “Thank you for bringing me backstage. It was very kind of you. I mustn’t take up any more of your time. Good afternoon, Abercorn. Good-bye, Kitty.”
She turned and walked from the dressing room. It was a full minute before she realized that James was following her. “Please stay. I don’t wish to interfere with your plans.”
“Kitty and I have no plans.”
“Kitty . . . what a perfect name for an Irish chorus girl,” she said lightly.
It suddenly dawned on him that Louisa was jealous and his heart began to sing. “I do have plans, however, to see you safely back to Belgrave Square.”
“That isn’t necessary. I’m not a child, Abercorn.”
“I don’t think of you as a child, Lady Lu. To me you are a desirable woman. One who shouldn’t be walking the streets alone.”
“I have no intention of walking.”
“You’d trust yourself alone in a carriage with me?”
“Don’t be absurd.” She tried not to laugh but failed. “You are insufferable. Why do you enjoy tormenting me?”
“For the sheer pleasure of watching your face. When you are angry, your green eyes glitter like emeralds. Your nostrils flare, and you draw your lips back from your teeth, as if you are going to bite me. You have a wild beauty that I cannot resist.”
“You are a madman!” She pretended outrage, but she was extremely flattered. She watched him hail a hackney and her pulse raced as she wondered if she could trust him in a carriage. When he took the seat opposite her, rather than sitting beside her, she wasn’t sure if she felt relief or disappointment.
Silence stretched between them, as James looked out the window. A passing church jogged his memory. “My stepfather, Aberdeen, has a house on South Audley Street. When I was a boy, he made us walk to his church in Drury Lane and back home again. He was a strict Presbyterian and the use of a carriage on Sunday was strictly forbidden.”
“South Audley to Drury Lane and back? That’s several miles.”
“It didn’t harm Claud or me, but it was very taxing for my mother, at certain times.”
He means when his mother was with child. Louisa felt outrage. “Aberdeen is a monster, and all in the name of religion. Why is it that husbands feel the need to exercise complete control over their wives?”
“Not all husbands, Louisa. I warrant your father doesn’t control his wife.”
She laughed. “He sometimes tries, but he seldom succeeds.”
“You are very fortunate, Louisa, that your parents have a loving relationship. I would wager that is the secret of a happy marriage.”
“Marriage doesn’t appeal to me,” she said quickly in an attempt to erect a barrier between them.
“You’d rather be a dancer on the stage than a wife and mother.”
“A thousand times over! But that’s impossible,” she said wistfully. “Do you still live on South Audley Street when you are in London?”
“Not a chance! I have my own townhouse on Half Moon Street.”
The hackney stopped in Belgrave Square and James opened the door, stepped down, and helped Louisa alight. “I take it you will be attending the matinee performance again next Wednesday afternoon, so why don’t you allow me to escort you?”
“How can you so easily discern my intensions?”
He smiled into her eyes. “Irish intuition, I suppose.”
She hesitated, but the lure he held out was too tempting to resist. “I shall accept your kind offer. You may call for me next Wednesday.”
Louisa had been home for an hour before she remembered the sugared mouse he had offered her at the Carlton House party when she was a child. He offered
me something I couldn’t resist and today he did it again. You are a shrewd Irish devil, Abercorn!
At dinner John Russell addressed his daughter. “Louisa, was that James Hamilton who escorted you home this afternoon?”
Louisa blushed. Damnation, he must have seen us from the library window. “Yes, Father.” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t ask where she had been.
“Why on earth didn’t you invite him in? That was rather ill-mannered of you.”
Georgy was furious. “You said you didn’t have an assignation!”
“I didn’t. Abercorn and I met by accident.”
“How very clever of you, darling.” Georgina threw her daughter an approving glance. “Have you arranged any more accidental meetings?”
“No!” Louisa had to backtrack immediately. “Actually, Abercorn is escorting me to a matinee performance at the theater next Wednesday.”
“How lovely. Having a marquis pay his addresses is a feather in your cap. Did I mention that after your debutante ball, the Marquis of Lansdowne called to ask if his son Lord Kerry could pay his addresses to you?”
Louisa stole a quick glance at her sister and saw her face was like a thundercloud. She could not bear the thought of Georgy’s feelings being crushed. She improvised quickly, “Yes, Mother, you did mention that Lord Kerry asked if he could pay his addresses to Georgy and me.”
The Duke of Bedford smiled. “Did you girls know that Henry Petty, Marquis of Lansdowne, once proposed to your mother? Now it seems the Pettys are after my daughters.” He chuckled. “I suppose hope springs eternal.”
Georgy looked somewhat mollified, but the duchess was aware that her remark had hurt her eldest daughter and she deftly changed the subject. “The Royal Masquerade Ball is next week. We really must see about costumes tomorrow.”
“I can wear my Spanish dancing costume,” Louisa offered.
“But darling, everyone will know it is you,” her mother objected. “The whole point of a masquerade is to hide your identity.”
The Irish Duke Page 14