by Lydia Dare
He moved so effortlessly, like he’d been spinning ladies about the dance floor since he was in short pants. “When did you learn to dance, Gray?” She was growing a bit breathless at the exertion.
He cleared his throat before he spoke. “I feel like I’ve never danced before, Livi Mayeux.” One corner of his mouth quirked, his grin a bit self-deprecating. “In fact, I feel as unwieldy as a newborn colt myself.”
“Clumsy,” she corrected.
“I most certainly am not clumsy.” He chuckled loudly, the sound warm and rich as it hung in the air between them.
“No, I’m the clumsy one.” He wasn’t counting for her anymore. He was talking. “Will I be expected to dance and carry on a conversation tomorrow night? All at the very same time?”
“That depends on the dance, your partner, and how much he’s enthralled by your beauty.”
She snorted. And immediately regretted it. “Apologies,” she murmured. “Sophie would flay me for that.” She tried to get past it. But it was damn hard with him looking down at her with that quirky grin. The one that made her heart skip. “Can you hear it?” she whispered without censoring her words.
“Your delicate little snuffle?” he said with a laugh. “Yes, I heard it. I’m not deaf, you know.”
She hadn’t been referring to that social blunder. She was referring to the frantic beat of her heart.
He continued smoothly, “I think it’s adorable. And hope you never, ever become too cultured to do it.”
If he were one of her brothers, she would slap him. But he wasn’t. There were so many different social restrictions at play here. And she didn’t know which way was the right way to continue. “May I speak my mind with you, Gray?” she asked, her voice full of more emotion than she’d intended to share.
“That is my most fervent wish,” he said.
And she believed him.
“I’m scared to death.” The words just rushed from her mouth. They came out harsh and without any care.
His hand spread on the center of her back, his fingers widening as he pulled her slightly closer to him. He held her against him as he continued to waltz. He hadn’t counted for quite some time. And she was dancing as though she had been doing it her whole life.
“You’re not scared of me, are you?” He looked slightly taken aback.
“Terrified,” she whispered back. She may as well be honest. “Admit it. I know you can hear it.” She squeezed his bicep. “My heart, you dolt. You can hear the beat of my heart.”
He stopped dancing, which momentarily unsettled her. She fell against him. A moment before, she wouldn’t have thought she could get any closer to him. But now she was. Much closer. “I assumed the rhythm of your heart was because of your excitement to find out you’re such a beautiful dancer after all.”
“You know that’s not the case, but thank you for trying to preserve my feelings.”
He swiped a hand down his mouth, an act of frustration if she’d ever seen one. And she’d seen plenty with her brothers. “I think we should stop our lesson now.”
“Stop?” She sounded like an addled parrot, even to her own ears.
“Yes, stop,” he said firmly. He stepped several paces back from her and spun to look out the window.
“Are you vexed at me, Grayson Hadley?” she asked, punching her fists into her hips. She’d opened up, told him what she was feeling. He’d said it was his most fervent wish. How dare he dismiss her so easily?
“I’m not vexed,” he said to the window. “I’m…” He stopped and shook his head fiercely.
“You’re…” she prompted him to continue.
“I’m intrigued, Livi.”
Livi’s heart kicked up again.
He spun back to face her, his look harsh and direct. “I’m so intrigued that all I can think about is the beat of your heart, and I want to search your body to find all the places where you’re ticklish. All the ways to make you giggle and, yes, even snort.” He stalked past her toward the door.
Where the devil was he going? “I never took you for a coward,” Livi taunted, hoping to say something that would make him stay.
“And I never took you for a whore. So, don’t entice me to treat you like one.” And with that last comment, he turned on his heel. But then he turned back at the last moment. “Know this well, Livi. If you give me even the slightest bit of encouragement, I’ll act upon it. And I am the last thing your grandfather, and probably your father, wants for you.”
“What about what I want?” she whispered.
“How far have your wants gotten you? You’re stuck in England, far from your home, searching for a life your grandfather wants you to have.” He tilted his head and said slowly, enunciating each word, “So much for your wants.”
***
Gray stared into his tankard, wondering where his ale had gone. Damn it all, he needed another just to take his mind off Livi. Just as he lifted his head to catch the tavern wench’s attention, a hand clapped him on the back with more force than was necessary. It was a good thing his tankard was empty.
“Have you even had a chance to sober up after last night’s indulgences?” Nathaniel Hayburn, the Marquess of Lavendon, dropped into the seat across from Gray’s.
“Bugger off, Lavendon.”
The marquess chuckled. “Charming as ever, Hadley.”
“Well if you don’t like my company, you don’t have to stay. I don’t recall having invited you to join me.”
“I didn’t say that I don’t like your company. Besides, we are relations of a sort these days, aren’t we?”
Not really. Lavendon was Wes’ brother-in-law, not Gray’s. No matter how similar they looked. Gray gestured to the taproom at large. “This place is well beneath your usual fare. What brings you to lower yourself to this point?”
Lavendon shivered dramatically. “Hiding from my grandmother. What else?” Then he grinned and leaned forward in his seat. “Radbourne said Sophie Cole is in Bath with the rest of you.”
“She is Mother’s companion. Where one is, the other can usually be found.”
“And you sound so happy about it.” Lavendon laughed again. “I would gladly take her off your hands, you know.”
“You mean Mother’s hands,” Gray corrected. “And I’d be glad to see her go. Perhaps you could make her a proper offer this time around.”
Lavendon shook his head. “And give the little minx that satisfaction? Hardly. She had her chance to be my marchioness well before her fall from grace. Besides, I’m patient. She’ll come begging soon enough.”
Lady Sophia beg? Gray doubted she’d ever done such a thing in her life. She could be living on the streets without two farthings to rub together, and she’d still possess a refined air of superiority. “Do let me know when that happens.”
Lavendon sat back in his chair and gestured for the barmaid. “As long as it’s not blue ruin, I’ll have whatever Mr. Hadley is drinking.”
Gray nodded at the woman. “I’ll have another as well.” And he’d need it. If not to keep his mind off Livi, then to block out Lavendon’s ramblings. The marquess could bluster with the best of them, and he looked as though he was prepared to stay the rest of the evening. Just Gray’s blasted luck.
“Your turn. Why are you hiding here, Hadley?”
Because it was that or sit in his room and think about all the ways he could take Livi’s virtue. “I’m not hiding. It’s just better than being at Holmesfield’s.”
Lavendon nodded. “Almost word for word what Radbourne said last evening when we left the card tables.”
“Well, we are brothers.”
“True. Though Robert and I have never been accused of being remotely similar.”
With the exception that both men had apparently proposed to Lady Sophia before her father lost his fortune, and both gentlemen had offered her a different kind of position all together once they learned of her penniless state.
After the barmaid deposited two tankards on the table, Lav
endon eyed Gray as though he was sizing him up. “So,” the marquess began, “this gambling establishment you’re pursuing. Are you looking for investors?”
Gray shrugged. “We haven’t been. Archer seems to have more than enough funds at his disposal.”
“Easily obtained, easily lost,” Lavendon replied. “Especially as recklessly as he plays.”
Except that Archer seemed to have acquired some sort of Midas touch as though it was impossible for him to lose any game, match, or wager, no matter how ridiculous the odds.
“My sister is wrapped up in all of this now. I’d feel more comfortable if you’d let me in on this deal. To ensure her future, mind you.”
Gray heaved a sigh. “Then you should probably be having this conversation with Weston.”
“Ah, but Weston listens to you.”
That explained the marquess’ sudden chumminess. “Turned you down flat, did he?” Gray asked.
Lavendon’s smirk reappeared. “Said it was an endeavor for the brothers Hadley.”
“Well, there you have it then.”
The marquess shook his head stubbornly. “You don’t have a sister, Gray. You can’t possibly understand my worry for Madeline.”
What could he say to that? Gray didn’t have a sister, well, other than by marriage. It couldn’t possibly be the same thing. He had no idea the worries one might have if one did possess a sister by blood. Still… “She does have a husband to worry about her now.”
“You can’t blame me for questioning his judgment. He did abscond with Maddie, after all.”
“Something she is quite happy about, as I’m sure you know.”
“Love is blind.”
“But lust is not,” Gray muttered to himself as an image of Liviana Mayeux flashed once again in his mind. Had he ever lusted after a woman the way he did her? Not that he could remember. Damn it all.
“I beg your pardon?” Lavendon looked more than mildly affronted.
Gray shook his head and forced a smile to his face. “Sorry, something Archer used to say. I wasn’t impugning Maddie, just finishing the line. ‘Love is blind, but lust is not.’”
The marquess relaxed back in his seat and lifted the tankard to his lips. “Something I imagine you know a thing or two about.”
“Lust?” Gray couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I’m sure I have just as much experience with lust as you do.” Despite Lavendon’s good name, he was a notorious rake, after all.
“I imagine so, living in the same home with Sophie Cole. I’d have to take icy baths on a daily basis, were I you.”
At that Gray snorted. What an absurd thing to say. “I can assure you, Lavendon. Never once have I had a lascivious thought about Lady Sophia.” She wasn’t the sort that appealed to Gray. Not in the least. She was pretty, of course, but she was too delicate. She was too prim. She was too… tame. There was the word again. Tame. Liviana Mayeux wasn’t tame in the least. He had a feeling Liviana Mayeux would be more spirited as a bed partner than any woman he’d ever known.
Gray downed his ale in one gulp.
“Getting foxed so early in the evening, are you?” Lavendon chortled. “And here I thought you had a musicale to attend or some other such nonsense.”
The musicale. What a torturous affair. Listening to pedigreed ladies warbling out tunes or pounding on piano keys. Gray groaned and signaled the barmaid for another round. “I’m certainly not foxed enough to attend a bloody musicale.”
“Well, in that case,” Lavendon lifted his own tankard in a mock toast, “do drink up, Hadley. I’m not certain I’ve ever been foxed enough to attend a musicale.”
Ten
Livi accepted Lord Radbourne’s hand as he helped her alight from the carriage. “I am sorry,” the viscount winced a bit, “about this afternoon.”
But she hadn’t given the dancing incident with Lord Radbourne any further thought. Not since Gray had rushed from the room earlier, anyway. Livi shook her head. “Are you sure you don’t know where Mr. Hadley is?”
Lord Radbourne looked at once apologetic. “I wish I did.”
“Archer!” Lady Radbourne called from inside the conveyance. “You mustn’t forget Lady Sophia or myself.”
The viscount rolled his eyes. “As though either of them would ever allow that,” he whispered. Then he released Livi’s hand and reached back in the coach.
A moment later, the four of them climbed the front steps to the Longboroughs’ fashionable Georgian home. From outside, Livi could already hear someone playing Schubert’s “Ave Maria” and her heart started pounding in her chest. Bon Dieu! What if someone asked her to play something or sing? She couldn’t do so, certainly not with an audience.
A cold chill raced up her spine, and she glanced at Sophie just as the Longboroughs’ door opened before them. She caught her tutor’s eyes and shook her head slightly. “I can’t sing,” she whispered.
Sophie grasped Livi’s hand and smiled. “I won’t throw you to the wolves, Livi. Just stay beside me and you’ll be fine.”
But Livi couldn’t help wishing that Gray was there as well. Where had he gone after he’d fled her that afternoon? And why hadn’t he come back? Was it because she’d called him a coward? She probably shouldn’t have done that, but it’s what she would have said to either Armand or Etienne. Then she would have shoved them and they’d have shoved her back, and they’d have ended up sparring with each other and rolling around on the floor…
Good heavens. Now all she could think about was rolling around on the floor with Grayson Hadley, but not in the same way she used to play with her brothers. Not in the same way at all.
“Are you overly warm, dear?” Lady Radbourne asked, her brows drawing together ever so slightly. “You look a bit flushed.”
As cold as it was in England? The likelihood of that was somewhere between slim and none. But she couldn’t admit that her pallor was due to the fact she was thinking about Lady Radbourne’s son, could she? Certainly not. “Perhaps a bit,” she said instead.
The viscount arched a brow at her, as though he knew she was lying. He couldn’t, could he? Certainly not.
He muttered quietly to her, “I’ll see if I can introduce you to a few upstanding fellows tonight so you can get him off your mind.”
Livi tripped over her own toe. He did know she was lying. How was that possible?
The viscount reached out to catch her, but another pair of hands secured her, grabbing her tightly by the shoulders. Livi sucked in a breath as she glanced behind her to find Grayson Hadley’s dark eyes boring into hers.
“Speak of the devil,” Lord Radbourne said quietly. He regarded his brother with a scathing glance. “You’re late.”
Gray shrugged his shoulders and adjusted his waistcoat. “Couldn’t be helped.” He tilted his head at Livi and let his gaze rake down her dress. She thought she heard him murmur “lovely,” but she couldn’t be completely sure.
The viscount leaned closer to his brother and sniffed quietly. “You smell like you’ve had a busy afternoon. Perhaps you should go back to Holmesfield’s and sleep it off.”
Gray avoided his brother’s comment and held out an arm to Livi. “May I escort you inside?” he asked pleasantly. But Livi had a brief flash of remembrance. Of his caustic comments that afternoon. Of his abrupt abandonment. So she reached for Lord Radbourne’s arm instead.
“You get the harpy,” the viscount said with a grin as he tucked Livi’s hand into the crook of his arm and smiled down at her. “And I get the lovely Miss Mayeux.”
He really didn’t have to compliment her to get back into her good graces. He could do so simply by thwarting his brother. Besides, he obviously enjoyed doing so, and it was mildly entertaining to see the look on Gray’s face when she chose Lord Radbourne’s arm over his.
Sophie stepped closer to them and whispered harshly, “When the three of you are done with whatever it is you’re doing, we should probably move forward. A line is forming behind us.”
Ra
dbourne took a step toward the door. Livi drifted along beside him. “Nervous?” he asked with a conspirator’s grin.
A little. But not as much as she’d expected. That was, until she stepped into the Longboroughs’ home. She was so startled by the crush of people that the floor could have tilted a little beneath her.
“Something wrong?” Lord Radbourne murmured, leaning closer to her ear.
“I had no idea this musicale would be so well attended,” she admitted.
“Consider it practice for tomorrow night.”
Goodness, would there be dancing tonight? “They simply play music, correct?” she hissed at him. “No dancing?” Heavens, she wasn’t nearly ready to dance in public.
He sighed heavily. “Alas, tonight will be all about a room full of screeching cats, and we’re expected to at least make a good show of enjoying it.”
“Screeching cats?”
“If we’re lucky.”
It couldn’t be that bad, could it? Radbourne introduced her to their hosts, the Longboroughs. Lord Longborough looked down his beak-like nose at her and scowled. “You’re Holmesfield’s granddaughter.”
Livi curtsied politely. “Thank you for inviting me, sir,” she said quietly. Wasn’t that what she was supposed to say?
“Radbourne,” he grunted. Evidently, their host was a man of few words.
“Longborough,” the viscount grunted back.
The Longboroughs’ footmen ushered them through the receiving line and into their home.
“Care for something to drink?” the viscount asked.
“I would,” Gray declared as he stepped up beside them.
“It appears as though you’ve had enough,” Lord Radbourne said caustically. He leaned toward his brother. “If you cause any grief for me with Lady Sophia or Mother, I’ll make your life hell.”
“How would that be different from any other day?” Gray shot back.