Desire? An answering shot of lust flooded his bloodstream.
Taviston took a step backward without breaking eye contact. No, no, no. He did not want this woman. How absurd. Before this week he hadn’t even known she existed.
“Dear little cousin, there you are! I have been searching the ballroom for you.”
Miss Forster jumped back a good eight inches as a sharp-nosed blonde drew near and linked arms with her. The woman’s voice and physical touch seemed to jolt the young lady back to the moment.
“Oh! Louisa, how nice to see you. May I introduce—?”
“Darling cousin, Taviston and I are already acquainted. How are you this evening, Your Grace?” She gave a curtsy and raised her hand.
Taviston reluctantly took her hand and bowed over it. “Mrs. Browne. I am well this evening, thank you. I trust you have been enjoying yourself?”
He released her hand as quickly as possible and turned his gaze upon Miss Forster. She was related to this creature? Now there was an interesting piece of information. He tried to catch her eye, but she had acquired a sudden fascination with the tiled floor.
At the next words out of Mrs. Browne’s mouth, he understood her discomfort.
“Dear, dear Victoria. I had no idea you were acquainted with Taviston. I certainly didn’t introduce you. It makes me curious to know who, exactly, did.” Mrs. Browne turned a pointed look upon her shorter cousin.
Taviston’s insides twitched uneasily. Young ladies such as Miss Forster didn’t introduce themselves to gentlemen, especially not peers such as him. He saw her shoulders visibly slump. Hesitating but a moment, while he searched his brain for an appropriate personage, he finally settled on the only one that made sense.
“My mother introduced us, Mrs. Browne. Just this evening.”
Louisa Browne’s eyebrows rose in suspicion and disbelief, but she didn’t call his bluff. Instead, she grabbed Miss Forster’s arm and said, “Come, dear cousin. Mr. Browne has been asking after you all evening. You know how he enjoys taking you for a spin around the dance floor.”
Surprised by their sudden departure, Taviston could only watch them walk away. Miss Forster glanced back once and gave him a shy smile. His blood instantly heated.
Hell’s teeth. He did not want that woman.
Chapter Seven
After giving Taviston a small, grateful smile over her shoulder, Victoria turned back around and disengaged herself from her cousin. She wanted to laugh in Louisa’s face. Barrett Browne was perfectly happy to pretend his ward didn’t even exist. Victoria had never danced with him before and she doubted she would tonight, if ever.
Louisa, normally the very antithesis of a proper chaperone, now seemed loath to let Victoria leave her side. For the next thirty minutes Louisa hauled her around the crowded room, introducing her to people she didn’t care to meet, people equally unimpressed with Victoria’s acquaintance. Finally, Victoria had had enough and she informed Louisa she needed to visit the ladies’ retiring room.
Once inside, she collapsed into a chair in the corner. This had been a thoroughly exhausting, not to mention disastrous few days. At this time last week, she hadn’t even known there was a Duke of Taviston. Now she couldn’t seem to escape him. While she realized some of the horrendous activities of the last forty-eight hours were most certainly her fault, she laid most of the blame on His Grace’s doorstep. She had been minding her own business, walking her cat, when he approached her. She had been right in thinking he followed her all evening. She needed to focus on her husband hunt. She had no time for naked dukes.
But then his interaction with Lady Julianna had distracted her. Had he been struck by sudden blindness? For he gave the girl only a lackluster greeting, without even attempting to smile. It couldn’t possibly be normal for a man to look upon such beauty and not react. She’d watched with fascination as Lady Julianna drenched the duke with charm, only to receive an indifferent comment here and there. Then again, he’d been searching the room for her, Victoria, and had somehow outflanked her. Hoping to appease him so she could resume her dukeless life, she had apologized.
And then promptly ogled his chest like a loose woman. But what else was she to think of when his words had conjured the image of Arthur curled intimately on his bare torso? The bare, sculpted-in-muscle, black-haired chest she had gaped at and then drawn oh-so-accurately? Lucky cat.
She had to give the duke a nod, though, for his last action. Fully expecting him to leave her floundering with Louisa on the question of their introduction, she had also assumed he would bring up the debacle at his home. Amazingly, he hadn’t. He had saved her from humiliation, and not just to spare himself. Louisa wasn’t concerned about the duke’s behavior. She had only wanted to catch Victoria in a scandal. A minor scandal at that, but her cousin seemed bent on ruining what little reputation Victoria had. Since she had no parents and a very tiny dowry, her reputation was all she did have. Yes, she would give the duke a mark in his favor for his small white lie.
She would also give him a mark for being a handsome devil. She had been surprised to note that beneath his black coat stretched wide by broad shoulders he wore a surprisingly bright yellow waistcoat. His hair was unquestionably black, cut shorter than was the fashion. But his eyes... Victoria suppressed a sigh. His grey eyes were absolutely marvelous. Yes, she had finally been close enough to determine their color. Most people would call them grey; there wasn’t even a trace of blue in them, but another descriptive word hung on the tip of her tongue. His eyes were as grey as... Contentedly daydreaming about the duke, she was certain no one would miss her in the ballroom.
Alas, it was not to be. Louisa barged into the retiring room to fetch her. She was most unhappy to find Victoria staring vacantly at the wall. They returned to the ballroom, where Louisa once again refused to leave her side. Victoria couldn’t fathom Louisa’s motive for such a change in behavior, but she’d bet it wasn’t a pure one. She put on a polite face, but longed for the evenings gone by when she could wander as she pleased. She had never thought she would miss speaking with her old friends—and they were all aged—but she did. Of course, anything else would have been preferable to following Louisa about like a dog on a lead. What was her vapid cousin up to?
TAVISTON HEADED OFF to the card room, where he was sure to find strong spirits. This evening hadn’t gone at all as planned. The hour only approached eleven o’clock, yet he hadn’t intended staying even this long. He had meant to put in an appearance for Northfield and hoped to meet Lady Tessa Colvin. Perhaps after a dance with her, he could have taken his leave and the rest of the evening would have been his to do as he pleased.
There was nothing to stop him from going ahead with his plan now, though. After a fortifying brandy, he set out in search of his host and hostess, intent on finally getting an introduction to the mysterious Lady Tessa.
He found Northfield and his wife off to one side of the ballroom. Taviston approached them and sketched a quick bow. “Good evening again. May I compliment you both on this rousing affair?”
“Taviston, I cannot believe you are still here,” Northfield exclaimed, waving his hand out with a flourish. “Have you nothing better to do this evening? Who would have thought our little ball would be able to provide such entertainment you would never leave?” Here he placed his hand over his heart. “Surely there’s a book at home that would offer more amusement than this dull gathering?”
Northfield’s wild gestures and insincere looks of surprise were nothing less than Taviston would have expected. His friend was given to drama.
Lady Northfield poked her husband in the ribs. “Leave him alone. It bodes well for us that the Duke of Taviston is still in attendance.” She turned to Taviston. “I do hope you’ve been enjoying yourself?”
He wanted to answer in the negative. After all, he’d spent the whole evening traipsing after a small, atrociously-clad woman who made him uncomfortable in the extreme. But in truth, he hadn’t been bored all night and he certainl
y wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
“I’ve had a wonderful time, Lady Northfield. You have outdone yourself.”
“Thank you.” She flashed him a brilliant smile that reminded Taviston how fortunate his friend was. She had light brown hair, but more the color of wheat rather than the color of sand, like Miss Forster. Lady Northfield was probably a good three inches taller too, as well as slightly plumper, but that could be due to the fact she had given birth to a son not two months prior.
“You are welcome.” He deftly changed the subject with his next question. “What can either of you tell me of a young lady named Victoria Forster?”
Damnation. He hadn’t meant to say her name. This evening was supposed to have been all about Lady Tessa.
“Miss Forster? I met her at a musical event last week. We spoke for only a minute or two and she seemed pleasant.” Lady Northfield’s face held a gentle smile, but her dark blue eyes gleamed.
Slightly mortified to be asking such questions, especially considering the stunned look on Northfield’s face, Taviston realized he couldn’t suddenly switch lines and ask about Lady Tessa now. He might as well find out what he could about the pesky imp who had plagued him for the last couple of days. He lifted his eyebrows as if to say, Is there nothing more?
Lady Northfield didn’t hesitate to answer. “She’s the only child of the late Mr. Harold Forster of Leicestershire and the ward of her cousin’s husband, Barrett Browne. He invests heavily in shipping, and Mrs. Browne is making an enormous effort to bring their social position equal to their financial position. She hasn’t tried to hide her unhappiness about having to shepherd her cousin into society. As a matter of fact, upon learning Miss Forster was Mrs. Browne’s unwanted relative, I felt some degree of pity for her. That’s why I included them on the guest list. I wasn’t trying to further Mrs. Browne’s social ambitions, but I thought perhaps her cousin could do with some friendship.” She took a deep breath after this lengthy monologue and smiled blandly at Taviston.
He could but stare at her. “I do believe, Lady Northfield, you could rival Hither and Yon for information about members of society.”
Northfield made as if to speak, and Taviston could only be grateful his friend never had the chance, for they were interrupted by the arrival of none other than his mother.
“Lord and Lady Northfield, good evening. May I commend you on such an enjoyable affair?”
“You may indeed, madam. We most appreciate your attendance. Might I say you are looking resplendent this evening.” Northfield directed a hasty bow in her direction and Taviston noted with chagrin the nasty sparkle in his eye.
He needed to control the direction of this conversation or heaven only knew what words might spout from Northfield’s mouth.
The duchess smiled benevolently on both the marquess and his bride and said, “It is such a delight to see my son’s closest friend settling into married life. I do hope Taviston takes note of your example.”
He didn’t have to worry about Northfield at the moment; his mother was taking her own jabs at him.
“Mother, I—” Taviston’ reprimand died on his lips as Louisa Browne thrust herself and her feathered cousin into their midst.
“Why, Duchess, good evening. Imagine my astonishment upon recently learning you had the acquaintance of my darling little country cousin. Who would have thought such a thing possible?” Louisa punctuated her pronouncement with a triumphant gleam.
Her rudeness astonished everyone into speechlessness. Taviston quickly hid the flash of anger that burned his face. How dare Louisa Browne try to catch him in his lie? Though he stood right next to his mother he could not possibly convey Miss Forster’s identity to her without notice.
He need not have worried. Lady Northfield assessed the situation correctly within seconds. She stood directly across from his mother and Miss Forster’s body shielded her from Louisa’s view. So, she proceeded to mouth the word “miss” and then the word “Forster” while gesturing unobtrusively at the lady under discussion.
His mother took note without ever changing her serene expression. She ignored Louisa, whom she had never met, and inclined her head regally to Victoria, whom she had also never met. “Miss Forster, it is a joy to see you again. I do hope you plan to call upon me later this week, as we discussed.”
Eyes wide with astonishment, Miss Forster somehow mastered a tiny smile. “As I believe I indicated earlier, I would be honored to call upon you, Your Grace. Thank you for the invitation.”
Taviston watched as his mother gave Miss Forster a reassuring nod. Leave it to her to take advantage of this preposterous situation and coax the young lady into calling.
He glanced at Louisa Browne. Her fingers curled into fists and her smile turned ugly. His eyes returned to her as he suddenly noticed the disparity between her gown and her cousin’s. Louisa was draped in a deep green silk that almost gave her the appearance of being pretty. The dress was very fashionable and cut to perfection. He inwardly shook his head and wondered why the dreadful woman didn’t at least share her fashion knowledge, let alone her modiste, with Miss Forster. Surely two such disparate gowns could not have come from the same needle.
Rapidly running out of patience with Louisa Browne and her boorishness, Taviston thought it might be best to remove himself from her presence before his own behavior could be called into question. The sounds of the musicians warming up for a new dance gave him the chance.
He cleared his throat. “Miss Forster, would you favor me with this dance?” He stepped forward and offered his hand. Her blue eyes fixated on it as if he had six fingers.
“She would be delighted, Taviston,” Louisa replied brightly as she shoved her cousin in the small of the back, propelling the lady straight into Taviston.
He pressed his lips into a thin line to keep from bringing the uncouth woman down a peg. When Miss Forster placed her small hand in his, he steered the two of them away from their intimate assembly with more haste than was proper.
Taviston was none too fond of dancing, especially these lengthy contra dances, but right now he would have gladly participated in three or four just to escape Louisa Browne. He glanced down at Miss Forster, who had not spoken so much as a word since their departure from the group. An odd despondency shrouded her face as they lined up for the dance.
For heaven’s sakes, he had never seen a young lady so reluctant to dance with him. As the music whistled around their heads and the other couples gracefully glided down the floor, he watched a rigid paralysis overtake his partner’s body, from head to toe. What was the matter with her?
When the couple beside them finally proceeded past, Taviston reached out and lightly grasped her hand. After a brief second, he instinctively tightened his grip, not wishing to ever let her go. She must not have felt the same for she bowed her head as if concentrating on her feet. He began moving to the rhythm of the music; Miss Forster moved as well, although unfortunately nothing remotely resembling rhythm was involved on her part.
By the time they were halfway down the line she had already stepped on his toes three times. Not that this was painful, as her feet were as small and dainty as the rest of her. But in the next instant those tiny feet became tangled amongst themselves and Miss Forster fell into a headlong trip. Taviston snaked his arm out to prevent her fall and caught her around the waist. Soft breasts on his forearm and aromatic waves of lavender caused a certain unruly part of his body to tense. He was damn lucky he didn’t drop her from the shock of it all. Instead, he effortlessly swung her back into an upright position and settled her on her feet once again. Mercifully, they reached their position in the line within a few more steps.
Taviston stared across at Miss Forster, who eyed her feet as if she wished to chop them off. Two reddening ovals outlined her cheekbones.
“Miss Forster.”
She ever so slowly lifted her head, misery, but thankfully no tears, filling her eyes. “I am so sorry.”
He shook off her apology.
“Try something simpler, like a skip.”
Her eyebrows marched upward, as if to say how is that simpler? But she nodded affirmatively anyway. They promenaded around the other couples and then the dancers began moving through the line again.
Awkwardly, they made it through with only one small stumble on her part, which alas only required that he lift her hand up to help her regain her balance. He would have gladly caught her again and again, if only to touch her and experience the heady pleasure enveloping his body when he did so.
As they took their places again, he attempted to lighten her mood with conversation. “That’s an interesting gown.”
She glanced down and then back up. “I’m not sure ‘interesting’ is the word I would have chosen. I have lived in fear all evening that the staff would mistake me for a fowl to be served up at the midnight supper.”
Taviston couldn’t help it, he laughed. Exactly what he had envisioned, some rustic bird. For a brief moment she looked startled by his laughter, but then flashed him the most brilliant smile. Something tightened in his chest. Her smile gave her face beauty and passion that hadn’t been there before.
They were required to make one more pass down the line of dancers. This they did without Miss Forster tripping even once, though she did bump her hip into Taviston’s thigh three different times. He didn’t mind in the least.
Eventually the music ended and Taviston escorted her off the dance floor. He was reluctant to lose her touch, so he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and they began to walk slowly around the ballroom.
After a few minutes of silence, he sighed. “Shall I return you to Mrs. Browne?”
“I would hope you would be more kind than that, Your Grace,” she said with a weary smile.
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