“I’m honored.” Handing him her dance card, Scarlett smiled charmingly.
When he handed it back she noted with pleasure that he had selected the final waltz of the evening. She could hardly wait.
“Worthe, this is a surprise.” An older gentleman with silver hair had walked up behind Alec, grasping him fondly on the shoulder.
Turning, Alec smiled with genuine pleasure. “Mawbrey, it’s been ages, where have you been keeping yourself?”
“Traveling the globe dear boy and satisfying my quest for adventure. I will tell you all about it later. But, first things first. Kenston, I don’t believe I have had the pleasure,” he said to Colin, with a polite nod toward Scarlett.
“Scarlett, allow me to introduce His Grace, Alistair Morton, the Duke of Mawbrey. Your Grace, this is my sister, Lady Scarlett McPhearson.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Scarlett,” the duke replied with a look of complete sincerity, taking Scarlett’s gloved hand and raising it to his lips.
“The pleasure is mine, Your Grace,” Scarlett responded, dipping into a flawless curtsey. The duke’s eyes were kind and full of warmth and Scarlett liked him instantly. Though he was probably in his fifties, he was still a handsome man and exuded the confident air of someone who held a great deal of power and influence. Yet remarkably, he appeared completely without hauteur or conceit.
“You are an absolute vision, Lady Scarlett. My wife and I knew your parents well, and I can see that you are the image of your lovely mother. They would have been very proud, I am sure.”
“Thank you, Your Grace, that is very kind of you.”
“Kenston,” he said, turning to Colin, “I do believe your sister is the closest thing to an angel these eyes have ever seen. You are going to have your hands full.”
“I fear you are absolutely right about that,” Colin nodded in genial agreement.
“Walk with me Alec,” the duke said then, nodding courteously to Colin and Scarlett in farewell, as he led Alec away.
“What a charming man,” Scarlett commented to her brother.
Colin simply nodded his head in agreement.
Two hours later, Scarlett’s feet were beginning to hurt, as she had danced with each of her brothers and nearly a dozen others throughout the evening. She was definitely glad that she had adhered to Georgie’s suggestion and sat a few out, although, she was still very much looking forward to her upcoming waltz with Alec. She had caught sight of him only twice since his arrival, dancing once with their hostess, and once with Alicia Windham.
Having discreetly questioned Georgie about the countess the day before, Scarlett knew that she was married. However, with her husband bedridden in the country, the fact that she was married was relatively meaningless. She couldn’t help wondering again if she and Alec had been lovers. The countess was a beautiful woman, and with her husband tucked safely away outside of London, it would have been so easy for her and Alec to have had a liaison. The disturbing thought had nagged at the back of her mind as she’d watched them dance, and still did, though she tried her best to ignore it.
Fortunately, she hadn’t had much time to dwell on her suspicions, for she had hardly had a moment to herself all night. When she wasn’t dancing, she had been continuously surrounded by people eager for introductions, as she was even now. For some odd reason, she seemed to have captured the attention of nearly everyone in attendance. It was unexpected and oddly disconcerting.
At present, she was conversing with the Duke of Mawbrey’s eldest son, William Morton, the Marquis of Fordham. They were just coming off the dance floor and despite her tired feet she had enjoyed their dance immensely. Like his father, William was utterly charming and quite handsome as well. Thanks to Georgie’s whispered comments, she was aware that the thirty-year-old, unwed marquis was considered a prime catch. She could definitely understand why. However, unbeknownst to Georgie, she had already surrendered her heart to someone else. She had done her best though, to appear interested as Georgie had spoken of the marquis’ winning attributes, as well as those of several other eligible gentlemen throughout the evening.
Feigning an interest in William Morton, however, wasn’t difficult at all. If she weren’t madly in love with Alec, she might have been drawn to the marquis’ striking good looks and charismatic personality. As he escorted her to Colin’s side, she found herself genuinely interested in their present topic of conversation. Unlike many of the young men she had been partnered with during the evening, some who had merely fawned over her, telling her repeatedly how beautiful she was, the marquis actually seemed interested in more than her physical appearance. Scarlett couldn’t help smiling with genuine affection as he relinquished her to her brother, telling Colin what a delight it had been to converse with a young woman whose beauty was only exceeded by her charm and wit.
As he bowed and took his leave, Colin gave Scarlett a poignant look. “It appears I will have to add Fordham to the list of your prospective suitors. You should be pleased. He is not an easy man to impress.” He looked down at her with an exaggerated sigh. “As I’d feared, you my darling sister are an unparalleled success.”
Scarlett regarded her brother with a knowing smile. She could understand his mood. He was having a difficult time coming to grips with the fact that the young girl he had once bounced on his knee had suddenly become an object of male desire. To imagine and anticipate it was one thing, but to actually see the reality of it was quite another, she was sure. Leaning against him, she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Are you going to be alright?” she asked, with a small teasing smile.
“I’m not sure. Can we return to Grey Oaks and put this off for another year?”
“I think it’s a bit too late for that.”
“Indeed it is,” Georgie said, overhearing the last of their conversation as she’d come up next to them. “I’m afraid they would simply follow you to the country and camp out on your doorstep.”
“I fear you are right,” Colin said, with an exaggerated sigh. “There’s no going back now, is there?”
Georgie gave Colin a sympathetic smile, though she was obviously quite pleased with the way in which the evening was turning out.
When Colin turned to speak with a gentleman whose name Scarlett had forgotten, she leaned toward Georgie and whispered in her ear. “I noticed you waltzing with Mr. Brexton earlier.” Georgie’s cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink as Scarlett raised her eyebrows, regarding her with a knowing smile.
Georgie was saved from having to respond however, as she glanced over Scarlett’s shoulder. “Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, dipping into a perfectly executed curtsey.
Scarlett whirled around and came face to face with Alec, her heart doing a crazy little leap, as it always did when he was near. He was so handsome in his elegant evening attire, looking almost as splendid as he had in all of his naked glory the night before, when she’d unabashedly gazed upon the perfection of his body in wanton admiration.
“Colin, ladies,” Alec said with a courteous nod. Looking pointedly at Scarlett, he held out his gloved hand. “I believe this is our waltz.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I have been looking forward to it all evening,” she said with a gracious smile, placing her own gloved hand in his.
Scarlett couldn’t help but notice the numerous sets of eyes trained in their direction as Alec led her onto the dance floor, most of them female. She could hardly blame them for staring, some wistfully and others with barely concealed jealously. She was well aware of how fortunate she was to be the recipient of the Duke of Worthe’s favor, more aware than any of them could possibly imagine. Well perhaps some of them could she thought, then quickly pushed that disturbing notion to the back of her mind.
Once she was in Alec’s arms however, everything and everyone faded rapidly into the background as her focus became riveted on the man before her. She took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of his cologne. She loved the smell of him. It made
her feel almost lightheaded. She longed to press her body up against his, to trail her fingers along the back of his neck and rest her cheek against the base of his throat so that she could simply breathe in his scent and imprint the delicious smell onto her memory for eternity. Instead, she forced herself to keep her body an appropriate distance from his as he led her through the motions of the waltz. It was even more difficult than she’d imagined it would be.
Despite the watchful eyes around them, Alec was fighting the urge to pull Scarlett more closely against him. Holding her in his arms without being able to kiss her or to caress her silken skin was akin to torture. Her magnificent hair fell in soft waves and curls and made a brilliant contrast against the white of her gown and the flawless perfection of her creamy white skin. He longed to bury his fingers within its fiery-hued depths. “Is it my imagination or have you gotten even more beautiful since the last time I saw you?”
“I don’t think I have changed much since last night,” Scarlett responded lightly, though her pulse quickened at the warm, almost caressing tone of Alec’s voice. Though no one could have detected it from his decorous expression, his eyes held a smoky glint that sent a tiny shiver racing down her spine.
“You look like an angel.”
Surprisingly, she had been told that on more than one occasion that evening, but coming from Alec, it made her heart flutter nonetheless. “I think it’s the dress,” Scarlett replied with a charming, slightly self-conscious smile.
Sometimes Alec wondered if Scarlett had even a clue as to how lovely she really was, for her unassuming demeanor was so different from the supercilious vanity of the majority of women who had even an inkling of their physical appeal. “I think it’s you.”
Scarlett merely smiled in response, content simply to be held in Alec’s arms as they twirled across the dance floor. Alec was a marvelous dancer, and surprisingly graceful considering his large frame, as well as the fact that he rarely made an appearance at any of the Season’s numerous balls. For the first time that night, Scarlett felt like she was almost floating across the highly polished marble floor. She could have danced with Alec for hours, despite her tired feet.
Alec couldn’t help but notice the blissful expression on Scarlett’s face as they waltzed. She had to be pleased with her enormously successful entrance into the midst of London’s high society. She was the talk of the night. Everyone wanted to meet her, and those that had couldn’t stop raving about her. The men were fawning all over her and the women, though outwardly welcoming and exceedingly polite to the new unrivaled beauty, were inwardly seething with envy. They didn’t dare show it however, for each and every one of them secretly hoped to befriend her, and thus share in the circle of her success. It was all so false and inane, but such were the ways of the aristocracy. Sadly, he knew that it was only a matter of time before Scarlett became a willing participant in the artificial and pretentious lifestyle. Mentally thrusting the distasteful thought aside, he regarded her with a leisurely smile.
“Are you enjoying your night?”
The words spilled from her lips as though they had a will of their own. “Not nearly as much as I enjoyed last night.”
Her seductive whisper and beguiling smile indicated she wasn’t referring to the dinner party, and nearly caused Alec to miss a step. As of yet, Scarlett was still unjaded and refreshingly honest. Despite the warnings of his subconscious, he couldn’t help feeling a growing sense of affection for her that wasn’t just physical. Before last night, he had intended to end their scandalous affair, but now, he knew that would be something far easier said than done. She was a fire in his blood, and until his passion for her cooled, which it assuredly would with time; he feared that his reason would continue to be overcome by his desire.
“Enjoyed yourself did you?” Alec teased, with a devilish quirk of his brow.
“Immensely,” Scarlett replied, meeting his gaze boldly. “Do you think anyone would notice if we disappeared for an hour?” she asked with a saucy grin, raising her brow in a wicked quirk similar to Alec’s.
“Considering your enormous popularity, I’m afraid they would.”
Scarlett gave a little pout that reflected her disappointment. “How unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate indeed my little temptress, for I would like nothing more right now than to carry you off and ravish you until dawn.”
“We are attending the new exhibit of Greek and Roman artifacts at the British Museum tomorrow night. We should be home relatively early.”
He wanted to say no, this is madness, we have to stop. He didn’t. “I’ll be waiting for you at half past twelve.”
As the dying strains of the waltz brought them to a halt, their courteous, carefully restrained demeanor belied not a hint of the scandalous topic of their discussion.
Minutes later, after Alec had politely returned her to Colin’s side, Scarlett’s eyes followed his departure from the ballroom. Tomorrow night seemed so far away. Thankfully, the current evening was coming to its close. Though she had enjoyed herself, she was more than a little relieved when Colin set out to round up the others. She was exhausted, not only due to the late hour, but also from the mental strain of making sure her behavior had been nothing less than absolutely proper and above the slightest reproach. She’d had no idea that her entrance into Society would be quite so draining. She longed to return home, escape the confines of her gown, fall onto her soft mattress and think about Alec as she drifted off to sleep. Lost in thought, she failed to notice the woman who had come up beside her.
“Lady Scarlett, don’t you look lovely this evening.”
“Good evening Lady Windham, it’s so nice to see you again,” Scarlett said, turning to face the lovely Countess of Devon. The countess was garbed in an alluring gown of richly embroidered burgundy satin, making Scarlett feel suddenly young and childlike in her own cream satin and lace. “Your gown is exquisite,” she said with forced politeness. “The color looks lovely on you.”
“Why thank you dear. Yours is lovely as well. The color is quite fitting, and the style, well it’s simply the perfect choice for someone fresh out of the schoolroom,” she said, looking Scarlett over with a slightly condescending smile.
Fresh out of the schoolroom, Scarlett gritted her teeth and forced herself to smile. Obviously, the older woman was attempting to make her feel unsophisticated and immature. “As does yours madam, suit you I mean. Burgundy is such a lovely color. I’m sure it must be a challenge to find a shade that doesn’t overemphasize your advanced years, and yet you have managed it beautifully.” She delivered the backhanded compliment with such an air of innocence, that if not for the icy glint in her eyes, it might have been perceived as a thoughtless, yet unintentional slight. However, she could tell by the slight tightening of the older woman’s features that Alicia Windham had gotten the message.
“I noticed you dancing with the Duke of Worthe,” she said, the tone of her voice dripping with false, syrupy sweetness while her eyes were cold as ice. “That’s quite a coup my dear. Alec rarely devotes any attention to the latest crop of debutantes. But then, he and your brother are longtime friends aren’t they.”
Scarlett bristled at the countess’ overly familiar use of Alec’s given name, but even more so at the insinuation that Alec had only danced with her as a favor to her brother. Before she could respond however, the countess continued on, her next comment equally as grating.
“I wouldn’t place any significance upon it if I were you. He is quite set on avoiding the marriage trap, at least for the time being.” Her sugary smile did little to disguise her patronizing tone.
“Do you speak from experience?” Scarlett asked, unable to keep the edge from her voice, despite her own forced, saccharine smile.
“Alas no,” the countess replied, with a slight shrug. “I was betrothed to Devon long before I met Alec, before I had my come out even. However, Alec and I have become quite good friends over the years. And lately, well, he has been such a comfort since
Devon’s been confined to the country.”
Scarlett didn’t miss the intentional inflection on the word friends, nor did she misunderstand the type of comfort the countess had implied, and thus decided to dispense with the false civility. She’d had quite enough of the Countess of Devon’s company.
“I had heard the earl was ill,” she said with a pointed look. “Perhaps in the future you should consider spending more time tending to your husband, and less time dispensing unsolicited advice.” With that, she turned on her heel and left the countess without so much as another word.
The following morning, or afternoon rather, for she had slept in well past noon, having not arrived home until after three, Scarlett made her way downstairs. Her empty stomach was rumbling and she was glad to find a fully laden buffet set up in the dining room. Her brothers were all up, and like her, had sought out some of their chef’s hearty fare. “Good morning,” she greeted, as she moved toward the buffet.
“Good morning sleepyhead,” Gavin said, as he happily munched on a buttered scone.
“We thought you were going to sleep all day,” Rory chimed in with a teasing grin.
Scarlett glanced over her shoulder with a sardonic expression. It was a rare occasion when the boys were up before her. However, they were much more accustomed to the late nights than she was.
Once she had filled her plate and accepted a cup of steaming chocolate from the footman at attendance, she took a seat at the table and immediately bit into a warm apple tart. “Mmm!” She cast her eyes heavenward, her taste buds relishing in the delicious flavor.
“I think our little angel is hungry,” Colin said, stating the obvious, as he watched Scarlett quickly devour the delicate pastry.
Scarlett didn’t miss the emphasis Colin put on the word angel. Her brothers would forever be teasing her now. Though her hoydenish behavior had lessened with age, they knew quite well that she was a far cry from angelic. The fact that so many gentlemen had referred to her as such last night, was apparently a source of amusement. “I shall never wear white again,” she vowed emphatically, reaching for her cup of hot chocolate.
The Hellion and The Heartbreaker Page 14