by Lydia Dare
Gray’s head snapped in the direction of the main entrance to find Livi beside Dash, Cait, and Lady Sophia. His mouth went dry, and he blinked at her as though seeing her for the first time. Radiant would have been an understatement.
“Close your mouth,” Archer muttered softly.
Siddington stood up straight and smoothed a hand down his waistcoat. “I did promise my cousin I would dance with her little friend.” That damned smirk was back in place on the blackguard’s face. “What trials I endure for family.” Then he glanced back at Lord Robert and Lavendon. “Do excuse me.”
Gray was about to block Siddington’s path, but Archer hissed in his ear, “Do not make another scene.”
“If he so much as thinks about Livi straddling any part of his person, I’ll kill him,” Gray growled. He watched closely as Siddington walked toward Livi, who was dressed in emerald green silk that shimmered under the lights of the chandelier like diamonds. He didn’t realize he’d said the word “diamond” aloud until Lavendon spoke.
“A diamond of the first water,” Lavendon murmured, “is nothing more than a lump of coal to some.” He sucked his front teeth in a most annoying manner.
“A duke’s son is nothing more than a lump of body parts, once he’s beaten to a pulp,” Gray muttered back.
“Beg your pardon, Hadley?” Lavendon said, straightening his stance and adjusting his jacket. He looked a bit like a peacock spreading his feathers.
“You heard me, Lavendon,” Gray snarled back, stepping toward the man. As he cocked his fist to punch the much-too-pretty man in the face, Archer grabbed his arm fiercely within his grip. Gray tried to jerk his elbow free, but Archer held it tightly. “Let me go, Arch,” Gray growled.
“You making a scene will not help her,” Archer said low enough for only Gray to hear. Gray and any other Lycan in the vicinity. He could already see Dash’s ears perking up at the comment. He sent one dark amber look toward them, one so fierce Gray almost wanted to tuck his tail between his legs and slink into a corner.
“Thank you,” Gray murmured to Archer as he lowered his arm and adjusted his own clothing. Then he leaned close to Lavendon and said clearly, “That lump of coal, as you so inaccurately described her, is mine. So stay away from her.” Then he bumped Lavendon’s shoulder hard with his and walked toward the lady in question. Lavendon stumbled under the assault but didn’t say another word.
Livi was almost within his grasp when Siddington claimed her for the first dance. She looked at Siddington and smiled, then dropped into a curtsy. It was half a smile, one of uncertainty. Gray wanted fiercely to take her in his own arms and count to her as he led her into the dance. She was probably feeling nervous, and the very thought of her being fearful tugged at his heart. He followed her with his eyes as she walked across the room on the man’s arm.
Dash coughed into his closed fist to draw his attention. “Eynsford,” he muttered with a casual nod of his head.
“Hadley,” Dash greeted him in response. “Behaving yourself?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
“See that you do.”
That would be harder than one might think.
Fourteen
Livi tried to count to herself and listen to Mr. Siddington’s questions at the same time. It was proving to be more than difficult. She wished absently that he would shut his mouth and just dance. But that didn’t seem to be in his plans.
“Do you think Her Grace will grow two heads and sprout a tail tonight? Or just purple scales?” Siddington asked.
Livi heard half of his question. “Purple scales?” she questioned, finally looking up at him.
“It’s easier if you don’t look down at your feet,” he whispered with what she assumed was a kindhearted smile.
“Easier for you,” Livi said. Then she trod upon his toe. He took it gracefully, with barely a wince. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s quite all right. I had no need of that toe,” he said with a smile. He could probably be quite charming, if he tried. She looked up into his blue eyes and couldn’t help but compare the depth and feeling she imagined within them to Gray’s.
“Toes are highly overrated, Mr. Siddington. I hear they’ll be out of fashion within the year.”
He arched a brow at her. “Is that so?”
“Thank you for sacrificing yourself so that I’ll have a dance partner,” she said with a mental wince. He had done it at Sophie’s request, she was well aware. Still, it was kind of him. “Sophie will owe you a favor.”
“I’ll ask her for something splendid. Do you have any requests? Suggestions, perhaps?”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something grand,” Livi stalled.
“I’ll save my favor for later. She’s had a tough enough time of it since her father died.” He turned her effortlessly about the floor. She wanted to question him about Sophie’s life, but doing so would probably be socially unacceptable. Even more so than she already was.
The music slowed and Siddington drew her to a halt. He offered his arm. “Shall we stroll about the room? Or shall I return you to Sophie?”
“You have done your job for the night, I’m sure. You can return me to Sophie and wash your hands of me.”
He grinned. There was a scoundrel lurking behind that exterior, she was certain. But he had done her a kindness, so she would attempt not to judge him.
“How many dances will you make Hadley wait before you grace him with your unwieldy feet? Three? Four?”
Livi hadn’t planned to dance with him at all. “He barely knows I’m here. I’m certain he has no plans to ask me to dance.” Hadn’t he told her that very thing?
“Do you like a good wager, Miss Mayeux?” he asked.
“Much more than a bad wager,” she tossed back with a laugh.
“Smart girl. If we were to wager on it, I’d bet he doesn’t let more than one more man sweep you into his arms before he does so himself. He’s nearly green with envy already. He’s looking positively reptilian.” He tilted his head toward the spot where Gray stood brooding alone in a corner. Gray’s left foot tapped an impatient rhythm, and he looked a bit like a caged tiger she’d once seen in a circus. “By the way, you look positively radiant tonight.” Then he shot her a wide grin, bowed in farewell, and left her standing beside Sophie.
“You did well,” Sophie whispered at her.
“Did I?” Livi breathed back. “I stomped the poor man’s toes so hard he’ll probably have to have them amputated to ease the pain.”
“It’s not the first time a lady has stepped on Henry’s toes, and I’m certain it won’t be the last,” Sophie assured her. “The next dance is a waltz and you’ll need an appropriate partner.” Sophie looked around the Assembly Room, mumbling to herself, “No, no, no, no, maybe… no, no,” as her gaze moved from one man to the next. “Oh, brace yourself,” Sophie whispered fiercely. “The Duchess of Hythe.”
The portly old woman stopped in front of Livi and looked at her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Then her eyes swept back up. Livi told herself not to fidget. She told herself not to worry. But she assumed that having the duchess’ favor would give her entrance to almost any drawing room in Bath. So, she forced herself to curtsy.
“Oh, up with you, gel,” the duchess said as she took Livi’s elbow and forced her to rise. The duchess tapped her fan against her arm for a moment, gnawing on her bottom lip. Then she said, “You’re quite beautiful when you don’t have punch down the front of your dress.” She leaned closer. “And there’s many a man I’ve wanted to tell to nique ta mère, and you can wager I will do so if one ever gets so busy looking down my dress that he dumps punch in my face.”
Heat crept up Livi’s cheeks. “It was a horrible thing to say, Your Grace. And I am woefully sorry for my blunder.”
“Oh, stop the woeful comments. I think it’s wonderful. You’ve knocked the ton on its ear, and it’s about time someone did. Half the mothers in this room are trying to keep t
heir sons from asking you to dance, and the other half are trying to talk them into it. You’ll be this season’s incomparable, my dear. Mark my words. With my help, you’ll be able to take your pick of eligible men at the end of your visit to Bath. If not by the end of the night.” She turned and snapped her fingers. Heads turned her way. “Miss Mayeux needs a partner for the waltz,” she said.
Four handsome, well-attired men stepped in Livi’s direction.
The duchess’ eyes widened a bit as her gaze settled on one of the fellows. “Nathaniel, what a surprise.” Then she turned her attention back to Livi. “My grandson, the Marquess of Lavendon,” She gestured to the gentleman in question. “You’ll find him quite an accomplished dance partner, my dear.”
Livi curtsied before the handsome man. “A pleasure, my lord.”
“Indeed,” Lord Lavendon replied smoothly. Then his gaze quickly flickered to Sophie before returning to Livi. “May I have this dance, Miss Mayeux?”
She didn’t really have a choice, did she? Livi smiled at the marquess. “I would be honored.”
Lord Lavendon offered Livi his arm and then swept her out into the middle of the ballroom. His green eyes sparkled with amusement. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Miss Mayeux.”
“Non?” she asked. With as much as her life had been turned upside down, she wouldn’t have thought herself lucky.
The first chords of the waltz echoed throughout the room, and Lord Lavendon bowed low before Livi. When he rose to his full height, he towed her into his arms and said, “My grandmother likes very few people. She seems to like you. I would say you are very lucky indeed.”
Well, that was fortunate. If the duchess could help Livi in society, perhaps Grandfather would never learn of the awful spectacle she’d caused the previous evening. “She seems delightful.”
Lavendon tipped back his head and laughed. “She’s a dragon.” Then he grinned down at her. “I should know. I’ve lived with her most of my life.”
What was Livi to say to that? Nothing if she wanted the duchess’ support. “I met your brother yesterday in the Pump Room,” she said instead of commenting about Her Grace.
The marquess winked at Livi. “My most heartfelt condolences in that case, Miss Mayeux.”
Livi couldn’t help but laugh. “What a horrible thing to say about one’s brother, my lord.”
“Do you have a brother?” he countered.
Livi nodded. “Oui, I have two brothers.”
“And are they scurrilous reprobates?”
“Non.” They were Lycans, which his lordship would probably find even worse.
“Well, then you see you are lucky. As I have but one brother and he most assuredly is a scurrilous reprobate.”
Livi laughed again. He really was rather charming for all that he wasn’t Gray.
“I understand Lady Sophia has taken an interest in you.”
Livi nodded. “Do you know the lady?”
“Indeed,” he replied and his eyes darted to where Sophie still stood with the duchess.
There was something in his gaze that caught Livi’s notice. A longing, she was certain. But an arrogant one, she was equally certain. “And would you rather be waltzing with her, my lord?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Lavendon’s green eyes focused on Livi and he frowned a tiny bit. “I would have asked her, had that been the case, Miss Mayeux. She is but a lady’s companion. Do you think your company lacks in comparison to hers?”
That wasn’t what Livi meant at all and she shook her head. “Non, my lord. It just seems as though your eyes can’t help but find her.”
“Beautiful and astute,” Lavendon replied as he led her in a turn. “Alas, the lady in question has always been able to keep her eyes from finding me.”
She had? Livi stared up at the marquess. Did he hold a tendre for Sophie? Might Lord Lavendon be Sophie’s escape from the world of poverty and work?
“But if we’re to talk about eyes,” Lavendon continued, “I should warn you—Grayson Hadley is staring daggers at me this very moment with his. Why do his eyes seek me out while Lady Sophia’s do not, I ask you?” He winked at Livi. “You see, I am not quite as lucky as you are this evening.”
Livi’s gaze flashed to where Gray still stood, apparently seething, in the corner. “Am I lucky to have Mr. Hadley’s attention?” And why did she have it now, when he’d avoided her all day?
“I suppose only you know the answer to that,” Lavendon remarked as he cocked his head to one side. “But I do feel I should warn you about Mr. Hadley’s character, as I seem to be warning you about things this evening.”
“His character?” Livi echoed. For all that she was annoyed with Gray, she hadn’t questioned his character. In fact, he’d been quite kind to her since they met, if one discounted his tossing a glass of punch on her in the middle of a musicale.
Lord Lavendon nodded morosely. “You see, his twin absconded with my sister. As the two of them share not only the same blood but occupied the same womb at one time, I can only imagine Grayson Hadley capable of a similar despicable act. So do take a care with the man, my dear, lest you find yourself muttering vows over a blacksmith’s anvil the way my sister did.”
Livi only nodded, because what else could she say?
***
Gray was going to rip Lavendon’s tongue from his head. The blackguard’s words of warning had reached Gray’s ears, just as they had Archer’s and Dash’s. But Gray was the one being maligned, if for no other reason than that Weston was his twin. Hardly sporting of Lavendon, especially as the man wanted to be a part of the Hadley brothers’ gaming venture and had come to ask Gray to support his suit. But that was neither here nor there. All that mattered was the way Livi had winced when she heard Lavendon’s warning. For planting those unfortunate seeds in her head, Gray should do more than rip the marquess’ tongue from his head. He should do much worse.
A fan touched Gray’s arm and he looked down at his sister-in-law, Caitrin, Marchioness of Eynsford, standing beside him. Gray scowled at her. “You should take care, Cait. I’m not my most jovial self at the moment.”
“Nay,” she agreed. “Ye are a rabid wolf if yer expression is ta be believed.”
He narrowed his eyes on his brother’s wife. “You’re not helping.”
She sighed and stared out at the sea of dancers before them. “Is it help ye want?”
“I’d like to be left alone,” he grumbled.
But Cait simply shook her head as though she had no plans to grant his wish. “Why dinna ye ask her ta dance yerself, Grayson?”
He scoffed. “Because she’s here to meet important men, powerful men.”
“Men like Nathaniel Hayburn?” Cait asked softly.
Gray could only growl low in his throat as he watched Lavendon lead Livi around the dance floor.
“Ye will be a powerful man yerself someday, Gray.”
She always spoke in absolutes, as though the future was set in stone. Gray scoffed. “I will never be a marquess.”
“Nay, ye willna be a marquess. Ye will be a wealthy self-made man with a sizable fortune at his disposal.”
“From your mouth…”
Cait gazed up at him, her blue eyes earnest as she said, “Americans prize men who are self-made, ye ken? What ye think of as a hindrance might be an asset in someone else’s eyes.” Then she turned her own gaze back to the pair who had Gray’s attention. “If ye willna ask her ta dance, then perhaps a turn about the room. I’d stay away from the refreshment table, if I were ye, however.”
Even Cait thought to poke fun at him? Gray ground his teeth together. “Hardly amusing.”
“I meant if ye’re walkin’ around the room, it’ll be harder for anyone else ta overhear yer conversation, Gray.”
Oh. Well, she was probably right about that. Still, Gray frowned again. “I haven’t spoken to her since last night.”
“Why no’?”
“I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t.
I completely humiliated her at the musicale…” And then he’d been too dumbfounded to speak when he found himself in her bedchamber.
Just then the waltz ended and Lavendon bowed before Livi. He offered her his arm and then led her back to where Lady Sophia and the Duchess of Hythe still stood together.
“She seems ta have recovered rather well,” Cait said. “Go over and ask her ta walk with ye, Gray.”
Fifteen
Lavendon delivered Livi back to Sophie, where the duchess still lingered. When the old woman raised her head to look for another dance partner, four more well-dressed gentlemen stepped in her direction. “The Earl of Honeywell is on your left,” Sophie whispered.
He looked pleasant enough. Livi hadn’t heard the earl’s name or even a rumor associated with the man before now. He hadn’t made any promises as far as she knew of in regards to seeking her out the way Mr. Siddington did or as the Marquess of Lavendon seemed obligated to do. “Is he poor?” Livi muttered under her breath.
Sophie smiled at her. “So cynical already?” Then she shook her head. “Fortunes are easily won and lost, Livi. But I haven’t heard anything about Lord Honeywell in that regard.”
Then the man had no need of her dowry. It couldn’t be simply that he wanted to meet her, could it?
“The colonel, on the other hand,” Sophie continued in sotto voce, “has buried two wives and has eight children for whom he needs to find a mother.” That must be the rather tall man approaching on her right.
Livi pretended not to see him and turned her back. The Earl of Honeywell bowed before the duchess. “Would you be so kind, Your Grace, as to introduce me to the young lady?”
The Duchess of Hythe cleared her throat. “Honeywell, this is Miss Mayeux, Holmesfield’s granddaughter. Miss Mayeux, this is the Earl of Honeywell.”
“A pleasure,” Livi murmured.
“Indeed, it is mine.” He smiled. “If this dance is not taken…” he began.
“It is,” came a deep voice from behind her, and Livi spun around to find Grayson Hadley standing not a single pace from her.