“Lady Abigail, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
Abby stopped daydreaming and looked up. The man bowing before her had to be at least forty. He was slightly portly, but apparently refused to acknowledge it. His clothes were at least a size too small and outrageously bold in color. He looked like a smug, overstuffed peacock.
Martin, no doubt, she decided at once, then reminded herself to refer to him as the Earl of Drake or be considered quite impudent. She truly would have spent a lot of time in disgrace had she lived in this Regency era for real. As for recalling all of this nonsense about dukes and earls and ladies and when to use which, it was becoming quite taxing.
“To be sure, my lord,” she said and unwillingly placed her hand in his. His damp touch gave her the most unpleasant goose bumps. She wanted to shrug him away, but knew at once that such rudeness would cause a scandal. She saw her mother standing nearby, looking on approvingly. She could do nothing to upset that sweet woman.
“I have spoken with your father, you know,” Martin whispered, his hot breath fanning across her cheek.
“Yes, my lord.”
“I believe a fall wedding would be just the thing.”
Abby’s heart sank. “Don’t you think that’s a bit hasty? People might suspect...” Her voice trailed off as she realized that proper young ladies no doubt didn’t even know about unplanned pregnancies.
His bark of laughter had an indecent sound to it. “Let ‘em think what they will. With the money I have, they won’t risk offending us by talking of such things aloud.”
“May I ask you a question, my lord?”
He beamed at her demure manner. “That’s the ticket,” he declared approvingly. “I knew the minute I laid eyes on you that you would do quite well. I can see you intend to be a most biddable wife.”
Abby hated to disabuse him of that notion, so she kept her lips clamped tightly shut. Biddable was not a word she intended to let anyone apply to her ever again. If she ever got back to her own life, she was going to take charge of it once and for all. There would be no marriage to a man she didn’t love.
“Of course you may ask a question,” the earl said grandly, his arm tightening around her waist.
“What is it you see in me? Surely the room is filled with girls younger and more beautiful than I,” she said, glancing around to prove the point. “Why I am practically on the shelf. I’m sure my mama despaired of ever seeing me wed.”
“Then you shall be more grateful for my attention, isn’t that so?” he said with a leer.
That expectation of her undying gratitude for being saved from the life of a spinster infuriated her. Didn’t he know women could live quite satisfactory, if untraditional, lives on their own? Abby deliberately planted her foot smack in the middle of his, then smiled up at him prettily. “I’m so terribly sorry, my lord. I’m afraid I’m very clumsy tonight.”
Fortunately, the waltz ended just then and Abby sped away from the Earl of Drake as quickly as she could. She had learned by some careful eavesdropping that the name of her companion from the garden was Elizabeth Henley, known as Lizzy to her intimate acquaintances. Scanning the crowded room, Abby finally spotted her and made her way to her side. She latched on to her arm and tugged her into a secluded alcove.
“It has to be tonight,” she whispered. “I simply cannot bear another minute with that awful man thinking he’s going to lay claim to me like a piece of meat chosen from the market.”
Lizzy regarded her worriedly. “But what will you do?”
“I’ve told you that,” she declared impatiently. “I will create such a scandal that the Earl of Drake will throw me over at once or lose face in society. Now, who is the most daring, most outrageous rake in the room tonight? I need someone who won’t blink an eye no matter what I say or do.”
Lizzy pursed her lips thoughtfully. Finally her expression brightened. “There is one my brothers say will do absolutely anything for a wager. His heroics in the war are practically legendary. He is heir to a shipping fortune, which they say he is gambling away.”
She tugged Abby closer to confide. “And when they think I’m not about, I’ve heard them say he has a perfectly scandalous mistress, whom he flaunts in polite London society. My mama says no decent woman would dare to be seen with him, but it looks to me as if quite a few here tonight are taken with his charms.” She pursed her lips, looking faintly confused. “Perhaps mama has it wrong about that. Surely Lady Honoria wouldn’t have invited him here, if he was so terribly dangerous.”
He sounded perfect, Abby thought with delight. “He is here tonight? You are certain of that?”
“Yes. In fact, Lady Honoria was actually bragging about her coup in getting him to come down from London. They claim he’s much too jaded and far too consumed with his other interests, if you take my meaning, to want to idle away his time on a country estate.” Again she looked puzzled. “Though he seems quite fascinated with the women here. Perhaps it matters not so much where he is, but the company he keeps.”
“Have you met him?”
Lizzy looked horrified. “Oh, never! My brothers would call him out if he came near me.”
Abby grinned. “Wonderful! Now tell me his name and show me where he is.”
“His name is Riley Walker, the Earl of Wilton,” Lizzy announced dramatically. She stood on tiptoe to peer through the crowd. “I do believe that is he over there.” She pointed to a circle of women clustered around one dashing young man, who looked extremely bored by all the attention.
“Riley Walker,” Abby murmured, an undeniable flare of excitement stirring deep inside her as she contemplated what she was about to do, as well as the man Lizzy had targeted.
Oddly, she felt immediately drawn to him, a connection she could in no way explain. Surely they had never met. She would have recalled anyone this handsome. There was nothing foppish about his chiseled features. And for all the fancy clothes he wore with such careless ease, even with the froth of ruffles at his wrists, she thought she’d never seen anyone in her life who exuded a greater aura of masculinity.
He would do, she thought at once. He would most definitely do. She couldn’t have conjured up a more perfect candidate for her scheme if she’d tried.
Abby started determinedly across the room, only to be stopped by a vehement protest from Lizzy, who was apparently a lot less fragile than she appeared, especially when it came to enforcing the absurd rules of propriety.
“Lady Abigail,” she said in a surprisingly stern tone, “what on earth are you thinking? You can’t mean to just go up to him and announce yourself.”
“You practically said yourself that no one would be likely to introduce me and risk my parents’ wrath.” She set her chin willfully. “It seems I must manage this on my own.”
“But he will think you quite brazen.”
Abby grinned and patted Lizzy’s hand. “Isn’t that the point of all this? It will all turn out just as I planned. Never fear. When you see us go out onto one of the balconies for a breath of air, see to it that the Earl of Drake follows.”
Lizzy balked, her expression aghast. “Oh, I couldn’t. If this turns out badly, I would never forgive myself.”
“You must,” Abby insisted emphatically. “If he doesn’t catch me in a compromising position, nothing will have been accomplished.”
“Abby, you will be sent away,” Lizzy said with a little moan of dismay. “I’m sure of it. And then whatever will I do for excitement?”
“Wherever I am, I shall write you of my daring exploits,” she promised. “Now just do this one thing for me, Lizzy, I beg of you.”
Though she still looked deeply troubled, Lizzy finally nodded. “I will do my best. I promise.”
Abby had more difficulty making her way to the Earl of Wilton than she had anticipated. Several gentlemen stopped her along the way and begged for a dance. The requests were made so earnestly she couldn’t find it in her heart to refuse. Besides, she loved to dance and it was said b
y all of her friends that she had exceptional grace, that her tall, willowy body was made to float about a dance floor.
She had just thanked her most recent partner when she saw that she was standing practically in the shadow of the Earl of Wilton. His back was to her, but there was no mistaking the breadth of those shoulders or the streaks of sunlight in his hair. Already it seemed she had learned to detect the rich sound of his laughter as yet another of the ladies sought to enchant him with a witty bit of gossip, which seemed to be the only thing anyone discussed.
Foolish girls, she thought irritably. Hadn’t they learned anything at all about playing hard to get? Perhaps she could show them how successful such a technique could be.
She chose a spot within the earl’s line of vision. Affecting a bored expression, she idly raised her fan to create a gentle breeze. With every studied gesture, she grew more vividly aware of the man she was seeking to impress. She knew the precise instant when she caught his attention, the exact moment when he fell silent as he contemplated her more intently.
Then she heard a whispered exchange, a mild protest, a counterargument. At last he moved her way accompanied by an obviously reluctant Lady Beatrice, to whom Abby had been introduced earlier.
“Lady Abigail, I would like to present Riley Walker, the Earl of Wilton,” Lady Beatrice said stiffly. Her expression said she didn’t like making the introduction to a prospective rival one bit.
Abby smiled demurely. “My lord.”
“Would you care to dance, Lady Abigail?” he said as the first notes of another waltz began.
Ignoring Lady Beatrice’s petulant expression, Abby moved smoothly into his arms. When she stepped just a fraction closer than propriety called for, his startled gaze met hers.
“Intriguing,” he murmured.
“What, my lord?”
“I was just thinking what a pleasure it is to dance with someone who feels the rhythm of the music as if it is a part of their soul.”
“Since you have danced with absolutely scores of women, if the rumors are to be believed, I shall take that as a high compliment.”
His green eyes glittered with barely concealed mirth. “You listen to gossip, my lady?”
“It is most prudent to listen, is it not? Perhaps not always so wise to believe.”
He laughed aloud at that. “A sound philosophy. What else have the gossips told you about me?”
“That you are a scoundrel. That you have had absolutely fascinating adventures. That you are a danger to all decent women.”
“And you are not afraid of being held in my arms?”
She lifted an innocent gaze to meet his. “In front of all these people, my lord? What harm could possibly come to me?”
“None, I assure you,” he said, though a wicked gleam of amusement in his eyes said otherwise.
“I would like to hear of your adventures sometime, my lord. I have always longed to see something of the world.”
“If I were to have my lady’s permission to call, perhaps we could talk of faraway places while we go for a carriage ride. The weather is fine now.”
Abby lifted her gaze to his, her glance deliberately bolder than before. “Perhaps you would share one such tale with me now. I long for a breath of air. The room has grown quite close.” She regarded him imploringly. “If you wouldn’t mind escorting me to the balcony, my lord? There is one quite nearby.”
He remained silent for some time and Abby thought for sure that her scheme was unraveling. When she dared to meet his eyes again, she saw that he was studying her thoughtfully.
“I wonder just what it is you are up to, my lady?”
“Up to, my lord?” she repeated, feigning what she hoped was just the right touch of indignation. “Do you accuse me of scheming?”
“I accuse you of nothing,” he protested. “It is just that I find your request most intriguing, especially in light of all the warnings you have obviously had about me. Who is it that you are defying?”
“I defy no one, my lord.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I seek only to please myself.”
The laughter she had heard so often as others charmed him filled the air again. The sound warmed Abby in a most unexpected way. She began to wonder if she had taken into account the possibility of her own susceptibility to the Earl of Wilton’s charms.
“Then by all means, let us go outside where it is cooler,” he said, tucking her arm through his and leading the way.
Abby saw, with a sense of satisfaction, that several eyebrows lifted at the sight of their departure. There was a sudden silence along their path, then a flurry of startled murmurs. It was all quite gratifying. It seemed she had judged the situation quite correctly. There was no way that the Earl of Drake would not be made aware of what was happening practically under his very nose. Hopefully he, and not her papa, would choose to remedy the situation. It was the one aspect of all this that she had not considered too closely.
Outside, standing in the shadows, she breathed in the sweetly scented summer air and congratulated herself on the success of her plan thus far. Now all that was left was to persuade the Earl of Wilton to steal a kiss.
The timing, of course, was everything. It wouldn’t do if the kiss came too soon, before Drake’s arrival. Nor would it do for them to be just on the verge of such a brazen act when interrupted. There would be no scandal at all in that. In fact, Drake would be considered quite the hero for having rescued her and thereby preventing a disaster.
She realized now that she had counted on the Earl of Wilton’s reputation to carry them forward from this point, but what if he did not? What if he was no rake at all? Worse and not to be borne, what if he didn’t find her the least bit attractive, the least bit desirable? Perhaps he was only humoring her, because for the moment he found her intriguing, a bit of a puzzle, but nothing more.
She met his gaze and a sudden chill sped down her spine. A woman could lose herself in the mysterious depths of those green eyes. No doubt scores of women had done just that, finding their hearts conquered before they knew what he was about. She had no intention of losing her heart to him. The only thing she intended to lose tonight was one unwanted fianc;aae.
Unfortunately she couldn’t get even a tiny glimpse of what was happening inside the ballroom. The Earl of Wilton had deftly maneuvered them in such a way that the interior of the house was not in view. Nor could they be seen from inside, no doubt. The Earl of Drake could be rushing toward the balcony even now. Or he could be happily chatting with his cronies, unaware that his betrothed was about to allow herself to be seduced. Abby prayed to heaven that Lizzy had the wits necessary to send him hurrying to his lady’s defense.
“Now that we are here, my lady, I cannot help but once again wonder what is on your mind?” the Earl of Wilton said, regarding her with evident curiosity. The steady, intense appraisal gave her very pleasant goose bumps, not at all like those Martin had aroused.
“Nothing more than the summer air, my lord,” she assured him, while gazing purposefully at his well-formed mouth in the hope that the direct stare would set him on the right path.
“Is that so?” he said softly, doubtfully, his gaze locked on her lips exactly as she had planned. “I wish I knew for certain if you know precisely what you are about?”
“Most assuredly,” she responded, suddenly surprisingly breathless.
His lips curved in a devastating smile that revealed a most beguiling dimple. “One thing you should know about me, Lady Abigail, is that I cannot abide disappointing a lady.”
Thank heavens, Abby thought to herself. “Is that so, my lord?” she whispered in a choked voice.
He raised a hand until his fingers could trace the contours of her face, the touch gentle, persuasive. “Is this what you would like of me?” he inquired lazily. “A tender caress and no more?”
Stunned by the wild pounding of her heart, she could only shake her head.
“Not that? Is it not enough?” he inquired as the pad of his thumb swept
boldly across her lower lip.
Abby was quite certain she was going to faint in his arms, swooning like some lovesick child. She kept herself from it through sheer force of will.
But this sweetly provocative touch was not nearly enough to cause a scandal. Nor, she found, was it nearly enough to satisfy this unfamiliar yearning deep inside her. Trembling, she stepped closer and tilted her head in a way that invited the kiss he so stubbornly withheld.
He smiled. “Ah, so that is it,” he said, clearly reading her invitation correctly.
Her pulse skittered wildly as he slowly, slowly lowered his head until there was the merest whisper of breath between their lips. Abby thought she would die if he did not close that infinitesimal distance at once. But he knew, it seemed, the seductive power of anticipation. He kept her waiting, taunting her with the promise of a kiss.
Finally, finally, just when she thought she could bear the anticipation no longer, his mouth slanted over hers, sealing it with a touch of fire and velvet that was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The sweet scent of flowers, the masculine aroma of Riley himself, his heat and strength—the combination made her head swim.
With that kiss, what had begun as a provocative dare on her part turned into an all-too-easy victory for him. He claimed her as inevitably as if he had sought and won her favor after months of courtship. She felt...branded, marked forever as his. The feeling, to her astonishment, seemed right, destined.
And still it wasn’t enough. Her breasts ached in a way that was deliciously unfamiliar. Her entire body felt vibrantly, wickedly alive.
She heard a soft moan low in his throat, felt him trembling, and wondered at the power of something as simple as a kiss. She had never dreamed it could unleash such feelings, that it could stir such forbidden desires. She had counted only on the scandal.
She had not counted on losing her heart.
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