“I wouldn’t have to scold you if you acted like a proper young lady.”
Charlotte looked affronted. “The best years of my life are going to be wasted in marriage. Why shouldn’t I experience what life has to offer before then?”
Before Genny could come up with a reasonable response, Charlotte was halfway across the ballroom, weaving through guests and dancers with sure footing. The heavy pleats in Charlotte’s green silk gown seamlessly flowed through the crowd instead of dragging behind her. Heads turned, but her cousin gave no notice to anyone until she reached her friend Ariel’s side. Ariel had on a blush silk gown with pearls sewn right into the fitted bodice, making her look almost like a fairy princess with all that opalescent shimmer and pale blonde hair to give her an ethereal quality men seemed to adore.
Genny looked down at the drab affair she wore with a slight shake of her head; it was better suited for a funeral than a ball. She felt too young to be a spinster and sometimes wished that life could be as easy for her as it was for her cousin.
Genny had been born to a modest family with an equally humble income. But she knew that wealth came with a few disadvantages of its own. She supposed she was lucky to have been sponsored at all and had at least experienced a debut at eighteen. She had not made good use of her great-aunt’s generosity and married well, though.
She blew out a frustrated breath and looked away from the small gathering of debutantes and young, marriageable gentlemen that surrounded Charlotte and Ariel.
Genny was not envious. Well, maybe slightly since she had wanted to marry, just not to any of the men who had offered.
Taking a step back, Genny pressed her shoulder against the wall. Would it really hurt anyone’s sensibilities if a few chairs were placed in the ballroom? She didn’t wish to stand all evening.
Though it hadn’t been that long since she had debuted into society, she was no longer cut out for the late nights and early mornings. Not after playing the role of companion these last three years to her aunt Hilda, the very woman who had sponsored her. Her aunt was in her sixth decade and in bed before the evening clock struck eight once she’d retired from society.
Now, from luncheon to the latest hours of the night, Genny was at her cousin’s side. She swore by the time she closed her eyes to finally sleep that the girl’s grandmother, too aged to escort her granddaughter around Town herself, was ringing that dratted servants’ bell and demanding Genny’s attendance. Sometimes Genny was summoned before the sun even had a chance to rise—like today.
A commotion at the ballroom entrance had Genny standing taller and firmer where she’d perched herself against the wall. Unladylike, she knew, but she couldn’t find it in her to care at the moment. All she needed was one decent night of sleep and she’d be in top form for the remainder of the month.
The clamor came from a great many voices talking all at once. Newcomers to the ball, Genny concluded.
She scanned the candlelit room for Charlotte and spotted her still standing near the punch table. Charlotte leaned into Ariel, her fan flicking rapidly at her reddened cheeks as she whispered something next to her friend’s ear. Both girls laughed then turned their attention back to the gentlemen who surrounded them; two men actually blushed at whatever her cousin said.
Just as Genny turned back to the entrance of the ballroom, the Earl of Barrington appeared, arresting her attention.
Her breath hitched, her heart beat frantically in her chest, and a sound that was a mixture of hurt, anger, and longing welled in her throat. Stepping away from the wall, she clutched her hands in front of her, unsure what to do. Hiding seemed ideal, but not when she needed to keep a sharp eye on Charlotte.
She’d known it was possible that she might chance seeing him about Town now that she was back in society with her cousin.
Four years hadn’t changed him one whit. He was still as handsome and dapper as ever. It was probably better she hadn’t pursued a match with him; she’d look rather plain next to such a striking specimen of man.
He was tall and imposing, at least a couple of inches above six feet. His deep brown hair curled like that of some Adonis of old. She recalled the soft silky texture of it as she’d run her fingers through the curly tresses and held him tightly in the midst of the most earth-shattering pleasure she’d ever experienced in her life.
His eyes were as dark a brown as the most decadent chocolate and his brows were perfectly trimmed, giving him that devil-may-care look. His nose was crooked; he had boasted that it had been broken not once but twice in his younger days. Why she had found it attractive at all was testament to how blinded she’d once been by his dashing looks and charming wit. However, such meaningless things could no longer sway her.
Hair grew down the side of his face along his jaw, which he kept clipped close to his skin. She well remembered the feel of his face rubbing over her bare thighs, her naked breasts …
She had to stop visualizing those memories.
He was a solidly built man. His frame wide, his arms had been well muscled and strong and still looked to be so. She had once traced the blue veins that stood out on his arms as they lay in bed together. She had grasped his wide shoulders tightly as he pushed her up against the headboard and did very wicked things to her.
Closing her eyes to gather her fast scattering imaginings, she mentally chastised herself and focused on the here and now. Though it was hard to forget the pleasure and the mind-numbing delight they had shared so long ago. Goodness, it was nearly impossible to forget him at all. And if she were honest with herself, which she did not want to be, her focus had strayed to memories of him far too many times to count over the years since she’d last seen him. Had things been different, maybe they would have married. She’d been foolish not to demand it of him after everything they had shared.
Three others of his set stepped down from the landing above the grand ballroom. The duchess, and hostess of the ball, emerged from the throng of matrons occupying her attention; a tight, somewhat forced smile formed on her face the moment she caught a glimpse of the Dowager Countess Fallon in a sapphire-blue dress, her red hair knotted back into an intricately braided bun with iridescent green feathers sticking elegantly out the top.
Did the dowager plan on making a scene? Hadn’t the funeral for her husband been held today? Genny wasn’t one to judge but it seemed odd that the dowager would attend a ball so soon after her husband’s passing.
Genny spun back in the direction of her charge. Charlotte was chattering with her friends, unaware of the tension that suddenly thickened the air and lulled the conversations around them.
Focusing again on the entryway, Genny wondered why they had come to a ball with mainly debutantes in attendance. She doubted any of them had marriage in mind—or, for that matter, good intentions.
The host of the ball crossed a short span of the ballroom and took the Duke of Alsborough’s hand in a familiar gesture. The duke had deceivingly angelic features with his blond hair and sharp blue eyes. He was tall and lean, but she could see the strength all but radiating from him.
The Marquess of Castleigh kissed the back of the duchess’s hand. The man wore black from head to toe, except for the stark white cravat about his neck that further sharpened his handsome features and dark slicked-back hair. He was a perfect contrast to the duke … sweet heaven and tempting hell.
And then there was the devil in the Earl of Barrington. Leo—as she had familiarly addressed him so long ago—also kissed the back of the duchess’s hand, offering some pleasantry that had the woman smiling coyly back.
Genny pressed back into the wall, wishing she could simply disappear from view. Not a possibility with her cousin half a room away and in need of an eagle eye to keep her from a danger she couldn’t possibly understand.
Even though a quadrille played in the background, the new guests seemed to capture the attention of most of the attendees milling about the room. Dancers abandoned the dance floor to discuss the turn of events.
>
With added bravery, Genny forced herself away from the wall and took a step in Charlotte’s direction. She doubted she had anything to worry about where her cousin and these men were concerned, but she remembered the temptation Barrington represented all too well. And since her father’s declaration, Charlotte seemed to smell a bad decision a mile away.
Hopefully, Barrington didn’t notice Genny as she made her way around the room.
She snorted.
He wouldn’t.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Barrington would ever take stock of the colorless women that had found a comfortable spot along the edge of the room with only the odd wallflower to offer some color among them.
It hadn’t been hard for him to forget her after he had ruined her for any other man. It was a small blessing she’d been spared the humiliation from society for what she’d done. She’d grown into a spinster of sorts, a steady companion for elderly family members, and now a chaperone to her young cousin. No one knew about Genny’s past—with him.
She’d had other suitors: two to be precise. But she could not bring herself to settle with either of them when her heart had belonged to Barrington. He could not possibly have returned the sentiment; if he had he wouldn’t have left her.
While keeping a close eye on Charlotte, Genny conversed about the weather with Ariel’s mother, Lady Hargrove.
The other woman frowned as she watched the Dowager Countess Fallon’s every move. “It’s unfathomable that the duchess would allow that woman in here. The nerve she has to present herself in society with her husband’s funeral held only this morning proves what incredibly poor taste she has.”
“It is quite scandalous.” Genny nodded her head in agreement, though she could care less what her current companion nattered on about. Genny didn’t miss the tongue wagging or speculation that ran rampant behind everyone’s backs.
“Simply impossible to believe Her Grace would invite the dowager. I heard the earl simply stopped breathing at the end. I’m sure he wanted nothing more than to be rid of that woman.”
Genny didn’t want to know how Lady Hargrove had come by that information.
From that point forward she only paid half a mind to what the woman said. Genny was completely absorbed by Barrington’s presence. She couldn’t help that her eyes strayed toward him like a compass pulled by the magnetic poles.
Had she known all those years ago that he’d leave her after she’d so fully given herself to him, she couldn’t say for sure if she would have refused his attentions, even those of a carnal nature. He was a very hard man to resist and utterly charming when he wanted to be.
Had she never met him, she would never have known the touch of a man. Then again, she wouldn’t have been ruined for all others when she constantly craved the touch from only that particular man. It had always been him in her thoughts. Perhaps that was her own foolishness. She couldn’t fully blame him for her current marriageless state; she’d been an active participant in their affair. He had never needed to persuade her of anything, she’d leaped into the pond with both feet forward, hoping not to hit the bottom too hard. She had fallen in love with him in the two weeks they’d spent together, but she had never been able to utter that truth to him in fear of being rejected. And then he had left and it was too late.
Oh, dear Lord.
All Leo had to do was step into a room for her to become a slavering mess of emotion. Tamping down any flicker of desire for him that lingered, she studied him with a critical eye, as the mothers in the room might, and were very likely doing at this moment.
As a potential husband he had many an attribute. He was as handsome as the devil, as rich as Croesus since the majority of his money came from import. The Caribbean, she was sure. He owned a decent estate in Hertfordshire and a large townhouse in the city. And he was in possession of a title built on the bluest of blood.
If a mother was willing to overlook his greatest flaws—his reputation as a player and his dabbling in trade—he might be considered a great candidate for marriage.
Leo’s gaze went around the room, skimming over the guests with a disinterested mien. He didn’t so much as slow his perusal as his gaze passed over the spot she stood in. Had she expected any other reaction from him?
If she ever thought she could settle down a man like Barrington again, she’d take a step back, pinch herself to the point of bruising, and force herself to walk away without so much as a glance back.
A rake of the first order was what he was. He’d taken her innocence without any qualms. Technically, she’d thrown it at him, but that was beside the point.
With more difficulty than it should have taken, she tore her gaze away from the temptation that man offered and returned her attention to reality.
Charlotte had two new gentlemen at her side. One filled in his name on her dance card while the other made her laugh in her flirtatious, raucous way. Genny knew the young men vying for her cousin’s undivided attention. Both were from decent families and both were of an age with Charlotte. The poor things had no way of knowing she was already spoken for.
Genny shouldn’t begrudge the girl any fun over the next couple of months. So long as Charlotte remained a young woman of purity then Genny’s task would be all but accomplished.
Next year, Genny would either become a companion to her cousin after her nuptials—possibly help Charlotte rear her children should she bear them for Mr. Warren—or she would remain a companion to the girl’s grandmother.
She hated this uncertainty in her life, never knowing what her future held, or where it would take her. However, she always landed on top, so it wasn’t worth fretting over right now.
* * *
Leo thought Jez was nervous to be at the ball with her husband not yet cold in his grave. She’d laughed too gaily when the hostess had met them at the entry. It was also apparent in the way she clasped his arm tighter when they entered the room. Everyone’s attention had swung like a restless pendulum in their direction. Did Jez harbor regrets for going out in society so soon?
He held her close, knowing she’d imbibed a little too freely of his rum earlier this afternoon in a poor attempt to drown her sorrows.
After kissing the ring on the duchess’s hand, he surveyed the room full of debutantes, wondering who the poor chit set to marry the next Fallon was. Before he could choose for himself whom to weed from the herd of unsuspecting young ladies, Jez released his arm, drawing his gaze away from the nervous flock.
“I’m of a mind to try my odds at cards. I’m feeling a spot of luck because of how the day has unfolded in my favor.”
“Tell me about the young lady we are looking for before you leave,” Leo said.
“Lady Charlotte Lindsey.” With a slight tilt of her chin in the general direction of the punch table, Jez fingered the gold pendant that dangled above her décolletage. “The brunette with the green dress, cut low off her shoulders, and the emerald pendant.”
A trickle of unease slid down his spine. “Warren plans to marry the Ponsley girl?”
“There was that card game a few weeks back,” Jez reminded him.
She’d been sitting across from him, and he’d lamented on his dealings in the House of Lords. “The very card game where I expressed a certain amount of interest in crushing the opposition on the new sugar imports act?”
Ponsley’s parliamentary act would destroy Leo’s plantations in the West Indies, increasing his taxes and making it impossible for him to continue profiting on his imports. It was well known that Ponsley had plantations in South America and used slaves to harvest his sugar products, yet the conservative bastard thought to levy a tax in the West Indies where slavery had finally been abolished.
“That’s the one. I knew you’d remember,” she responded.
“Do you honestly think we’ll be able to charm and win the chit over when her father despises me?”
Leo also doubted that courting Ponsley’s daughter would sway votes to his favor.
“I say.” Tristan put his arm around his shoulder and joined their conversation. “I’ll bet you that fine filly you brought back from the Americas last month that I break her in first.”
Before Leo could respond, Tristan headed in the direction of the lady in question. Leo held back, taking Jez’s elbow before she could retreat to the card room.
He still wasn’t sure what to think of this new piece to the puzzle.
“Just think what she’d have to look forward to if she married a man like Warren.” Jez subtly smoothed the back of her hand down her faintly bruised cheek. “This would make everything immensely better for us both.”
“Understood.”
“And also think of it as killing two birds with one stone, dearest.”
“Can Ponsley be brought to heel with his familial connections?”
“In all likelihood, yes. He indulges her every whim.”
That could well work in Leo’s favor. But more importantly, this would ensure the girl’s safety from Warren. “It’s difficult to deny you anything, Jez.”
“I know.” She batted her lashes. “It’s part of my charm.”
Releasing Jez’s elbow, he made his way through the crush of guests and toward the chit. Tristan was already at Lady Charlotte’s side, whisking her away from the admiring beaux who surrounded her. The young lady laughed gaily as Tristan spun her onto the dance floor. His friend was already halfway to seducing her, and she would be deflowered before summer came. Not that Tristan intended to ruin the girl; but that was what happened when a lady found herself charmed by him.
Some moral warning bells went off within Leo. Decisions on the best course of action hampered his forward momentum, until he recalled his stepmother and the life she’d endured before marrying his father. Warren would not treat this young lady like the previous Fallon had treated Jez. Leo simply wouldn’t allow that.
Tristan twirled Lady Charlotte into the next dance—a country gigue. The girl was more than pretty, and it surprised Leo that she didn’t resemble the staunch Ponsley with his bulbous nose, beady eyes, and balding head. He was thankful that she apparently took after her mother in looks.
Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady Page 2