"Good evening, Lady Wingate," he said, halting in front of her and offering a formal bow. He flicked a glance at her companion. "Jennsen."
The warmth that had been in her eyes for Jennsen turned cool as she gazed upon Daniel, and the knot in his stomach tightened further. "Lord Surbrooke," she murmured.
"I have it on good authority that the next dance is a waltz. Would you do me the honor?" A rather brusque invitation, which only increased his annoyance, this time at himself for again lacking finesse.
She hesitated, and appeared about to refuse, but then nodded. "Very well."
After excusing herself to Jennsen, who appeared wholly amused, damn him, she placed her fingertips on Daniel's extended arm. A tingle ran up his elbow in spite of the fact that she touched him with what appeared to be all the enthusiasm one would display toward a poisonous insect.
As soon as the music started, he swept her in to his arms. And breathed his first easy breath of the entire night.
"You look stunning," he said, his heart beating ridiculously fast as his gaze devoured her.
"Thank you."
"I'm very glad you decided to attend the party."
She lifted her chin. "I saw no reason not to. Julianne is one of my closest friends."
He could almost hear her adding in a defiant voice, And I wasn't about to let you scare me off. Excellent. He'd known she was brave. She merely needed to assert that repressed aspect of herself more. He certainly hoped she would do so where he was concerned.
After savoring the feel of her in his arms for several turns, he couldn't stop himself from speaking the simple truth. "I've thought of nothing else except you all day."
One elegant brow arched upward and a whiff of amusement entered her eyes. "That is obvious, given your attentiveness this evening."
Hmmm. Did she sound… irritated? Satisfaction filled him at the possibility. "You've had my full attention all evening, I assure you." At her look of disbelief, he spread his fingers wider against her back and pulled her several inches closer. Then in a voice only she could hear, he said, "You require proof? Very well. Since your arrival you've eaten four canapes and sipped three glasses of punch. You've chatted with eleven women, including your sister, Lady Emily, Lady Julianne, and five gentlemen, including your brother-in-law and Mr. Jennsen-twice. You've smiled twenty-seven times, frowned eight, laughed fifteen, sneezed once, and haven't danced until now."
Her eyes widened. "You made that up."
"I did not. But I forgot one thing. You are unequivocally the most beautiful woman in the room."
A blush stained her cheeks, and it was all he could do not to lean down and touch his lips to the beguiling color. "For the sake of politeness," he continued, "I danced with my hostess and my hostess's daughter, yet even then you occupied my thoughts. I've been looking forward to this moment, to holding you in my arms, ever since I arrived."
He watched her, wondering if he'd gone too far, if his blatant honesty would frighten her off. He hoped not, because he couldn't seem to stop himself. Couldn't bring himself to prevaricate with her.
Finally she cleared her throat. "Actually, I'm glad for this opportunity to speak with you, my lord."
"Daniel… my extremely lovely, very dear, greatly talented, highly amusing, and extraordinarily intelligent Lady Wingate." His gaze dipped to her mouth. "Who possesses the most kissable lips I've ever seen."
Her blush deepened and she glanced around, as if to make certain no one had heard his quiet comment. "That is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Your very kissable lips? Excellent, as it is a subject I'm anxious to explore further."
She shook her head. "That is not what I meant." She appeared to draw a bracing breath. "I've considered your… offer."
"That we become lovers?"
"Yes. I'm afraid I must decline."
He studied her closely. There was determination in her eyes, but something else. Something that looked like regret. Tension radiated off her, making it clear she expected an argument from him. And God knows he wanted to give her one. Actually what he wanted to do was drag her off to some dark, private quiet corner and kiss her, touch her, until she changed her mind.
But neither arguing nor dragging was in his best interests. No, best to allow her to win this battle. Let her think she was in control. Because he had every intention of winning the war. And making her lose control. In his arms. And in his bed.
Therefore, like every general who'd just lost a battle, he regrouped and prepared to outflank.
He nodded. "Very well. I understand."
Her nonplussed reaction indicated she had anticipated an argument. Keeping his expression carefully blank, he added, "Although you've no desire for us to become lovers, I hope we can continue to be what we've been all along-friends."
"I… well, yes. I suppose-"
"Excellent. I bid you a good evening." He offered her a formal bow, then walked away, absorbing her stare, which he felt boring into his back. And forced himself not to turn around.
Chapter Nine
I didn't know him very well, but that didn't seem to matter much when he glided his hand up my leg. And not at all when his mouth followed the same path.
Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady
When Daniel arrived home, rather than finding his household dark and asleep, lights blazed in several windows and he was greeted at the door by Samuel.
"Ye'll never guess wot, milord," the footman said before Daniel had even removed his hat.
Uh-oh. The fact that whatever animal Samuel had rescued this time merited him waiting up to tell him about it didn't bode well.
"I can't imagine," Daniel murmured, bracing himself. "What have you brought home this time?"
Samuel swallowed audibly. "It's a… girl."
"A girl… what? A girl squirrel? A girl rabbit?" Good God, he hoped not another girl rabbit. The last one Samuel brought home had promptly given birth to even more rabbits-all of which now resided in the country at Meadow Hill. No doubt the property was overrun with multiple generations of the furry, cotton-tailed creatures.
Samuel shook his head. "No, milord. Just a… girl." He cleared his throat. "Of the female person variety."
Daniel stared at his footman, whose cheeks bore twins flags of scarlet. Before he could speak, Samuel said in a rush, "Found 'er huddled in an alley, milord. Cryin' she were. Thought at first I were goin' to hurt her." Samuel's eyes flashed. "She'd already been hurt."
Daniel's jaw clenched. "How badly?"
"Got two blackened eyes, some cuts, and lots o' bruises. She managed to get away before the bastard who grabbed her hurt her worse." His lips pressed into a tight line then his voice dropped to a whisper. "But she'd been hurt before, milord. I… could tell."
A knot twisted in Daniel's stomach. Yes, Samuel would unfortunately be able to tell. "Where is she? Does she require a doctor?"
"Curled up on the sofa in the drawing room. Probably someone should look at 'er cuts, but when I mentioned a doctor she got upset and refused. 'Tis clear she don't want a man touchin' her, milord, and I can't blame her none fer that. Took some convincin' to get her to leave that alley with me. But with Cook and Mary already gone home to their families for the night, ain't nobody here but men."
Daniel nodded slowly. "Do you know her name?"
"Katie Marshall, milord."
"And how old is Miss Marshall?"
"Nineteen." Samuel's gaze rested steadily on his. "She's a decent girl, milord. Fell on hard times a few months back when the family she worked for let 'er go. Been tryin' to find work ever since. She'd heard about a family needin' a maid and were on her way to the house when the bastard got hold of her. Stole what little money she had and tried to take more than that." Samuel's eyes flashed. "Fought 'im, she did, and got away."
"Good for her," Daniel said quietly. "I think it best we get someone-a woman-here as soon as possible. Lady Wingate's town house is closest. Go there and ask for her maid to c
ome. After you bring her here, you can go for Cook and Mary. And Samuel?"
"Yes, milord?"
"As luck would have it, I'm certain I'm in need of another maid."
Instead of flashing his normal quick grin, Samuel nodded solemnly. "Thank ye, milord. 'Tis the best of men ye are."
As always, Samuel's gratitude and high opinion humbled him. He wasn't the best of men-he knew that all too well. But maybe, just maybe, with Samuel's help, he was making up for a bit of his past failures.
Weary and unsettled after the party, Carolyn was relieved to arrive home. After handing her cashmere shawl to Nelson and bidding the butler good-night, she turned toward the stairway, determined to go to bed and fall into a dreamless sleep.
Alone.
Yes, she was alone.
She frowned. Not alone. Just… without him. She had years' worth of memories to keep her company. Not to mention her sister and her friends. Of course she wasn't alone.
Still, the persistent, nagging question floating through the back of her mind plagued her. Had she done the right thing in refusing Lord Surbrooke's offer?
Yes, her common sense insisted.
No, her heart argued.
She was halfway up the stairs when the bell that indicated the front gate had been opened rang. Seconds later the brass door knocker sounded. Surprised, she turned around and looked at an equally surprised Nelson, who stood in the foyer still holding her wrap.
"Who on earth would be calling at such an hour?" Carolyn asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice. Obviously something was wrong-people didn't knock on one's door at one a.m. because all was well.
Before opening the door, Nelson looked out one of the slender windows flanking the oak door. "'Tis Samuel, Lord Surbrooke's footman," he reported.
Carolyn gripped the banister, her entire body tensing with dread. Dear God, had something happened to Lord Surbrooke? "Let him in," she said, forcing the words around the lump of fear lodged in her throat as she moved in jerky motions down the stairs.
Nelson admitted a tall, out of breath, handsome young man who was clearly relieved to see her. He burst into a rapid staccato speech about finding an injured young woman, bringing her home, and her refusal to see a doctor.
"'Tis a woman she needs, milady, if you understand my meanin'. His lordship sent me to fetch yer maid, to see if she could help."
"Of course," Carolyn said, her relief that it wasn't Lord Surbrooke who was injured colliding with her sympathy for the young woman. She turned to Nelson. "Awaken Gertrude. As soon as she's dressed, escort her to Lord Surbrooke's town house. I'll go with Samuel now."
To Carolyn's amazement, Lord Surbrooke opened the door to his town house himself. His normally perfect appearance was more than a bit disarranged. His hair was rumpled, as if he'd plunged his fingers through the dark brown strands. He'd removed his jacket and cravat and rolled back his shirtsleeves, to reveal muscular forearms dusted with dark hair. She'd never seen him so… undone. The effect was dazzling and momentarily robbed her of her wits.
A loud meow pulled her from her stupor, and she looked down to see a black cat weaving around Lord Surbrooke's boots. A black cat that looked up at her and blinked. With one eye.
She lifted her gaze back to Lord Surbrooke's and noted he seemed as surprised to see her standing in his foyer as she was to see him. After giving herself a stern mental shake, she said, "Samuel explained the situation and my maid is on her way, but I thought I could be of some help. As a physician's daughter and the older sister of one who constantly scraped herself up, I'm quite adept at these matters."
"Thank you," he said, and tunneled his fingers through his hair. "From what Samuel's told me, Miss Marshall's injuries aren't life threatening, but they should be seen to."
"Of course. Where is she?"
"The drawing room. I've gathered some necessities-bandages, water, and salve-and left them outside the door." He turned to Samuel. "I didn't want to enter and frighten her, so we'll all go in together. After we've been introduced, you can go for Cook and Mary."
When Lord Surbrooke opened the drawing room door, Carolyn saw a young woman curled up on the sofa in front of the hearth. She sat up as they entered. A combination of sympathy and anger rushed through Carolyn at the sight of the dark bruises marring the girl's face. Samuel went immediately to her side.
"That's Lord Surbrooke," the young footman said gently, crouching before her, but not touching her. "There's no reason to fear him, or anyone else in this house. His lordship is the one wot saved me and he's promised to help you, too. Give ye a job right here, in his grand house, as a maid. His friend, Lady Wingate, is a very kind and fine lady indeed. She'll look after ye till her maid arrives. Ye have my word ye're in good hands, Katie."
Katie's wide-eyed gaze shifted to her and Lord Surbrooke and she jerked her head in a nod. "Th-Thank ye."
"You're welcome," said Lord Surbrooke.
The three of them brought in the supplies, setting them on the table next to the sofa. Carolyn noted that the room, with its pale green silk walls dotted with pastoral landscapes, rich velvet drapes, and mahogany furniture, reflected understated and excellent taste. Interesting, and rather surprising, as she would have guessed a bachelor gentleman's home more likely to be decorated with stuffed animal heads than elegant paintings.
Her attention was momentarily captured by the beautiful large painting above the mantel. It depicted a woman dressed in a blue gown. Seen from the back, with only the slightest hint of the curve of her face visible, she stood on the terrace of what was obviously a grand manor house. One hand was braced on the stone balustrade while the other was raised to shadow the bright sun as she looked out over the extensive formal English garden, which was in full bloom. An unseen breeze blew the hem of her gown and a lock of her light brown hair. In the background, standing in the garden, was the figure of a gentleman. Carolyn had the distinct impression that even though the man was surrounded by the beauty of the garden, the only thing he saw was the woman on the terrace.
Lord Surbrooke and Samuel departed, leaving her alone with Katie. She offered the girl a reassuring smile and did her best to hide the sympathy overwhelming her. Dear God, the poor young woman was a mess of cuts and bruises.
"My father is a physician, and I learned a great deal from him," she said softly, dunking a clean cloth into a ceramic bowl filled with warm water. "I'd like to clean you up then apply some salve and bandages to the worst of your cuts, if that's all right. I promise to be gentle." She squeezed the excess water from the cloth and held it out. "May I?"
Katie hesitated, then nodded.
Carolyn set to work, first washing away the dirt from Katie's hands. The girl's palms and fingers bore numerous cuts and her knuckles were scraped raw, the nails ripped ragged.
"This happened when you fought off the robber?" Carolyn asked, applying a healing salve to the broken skin on Katie's knuckles. She'd learned from her father long ago that keeping up a light patter of conversation helped take a patient's mind off their injuries.
"Yes, milady."
"You're very brave. And by the looks of these knuckles, you planted the ruffian a few good knocks."
"A few. But it weren't enough. He still made off with all me money, little though it were." As Carolyn continued her ministrations, Katie whispered in a shaky voice, "Do ye think Samuel was right? That Lord Surbrooke will hire me? I can't imagine he would, what with me bein' all cut up and bruised like this." Her swollen eyes welled up with tears. "I looked in the mirror. I know how awful I look."
"I'm certain Samuel wouldn't have said that if Lord Surbrooke hadn't told him so. As for your cuts and bruises, they'll heal."
Katie seemed to relax a bit at that. "I couldn't believe it when Samuel came into that alley. At first I thought he were another footpad, or bent on mischief as men are wont to be. But instead he turned out to be an angel of mercy."
"I heard him say his lordship is the one who saved him. Do you know what he meant?"<
br />
"Oh yes, milady. Samuel told me all about it in the hack he hired to drive us here. Talked the entire way, he did. Never in my life have I met a man who talks so much. Usually it's impossible to drag more than a grunt or single word out of 'em."
Carolyn thought of her kindly but taciturn father and smiled. "Men can be frustratingly incommunicative," she agreed.
Katie nodded. "Yes, milady. But not Samuel. Told me all about a cold, rainy night in Bristol, about how he were sick and starvin' and tried to rob the earl, if ye can imagine. 'Cept he didn't get any blunt 'cause he collapsed, right at the earl's feet. But instead of turnin' him in, or just leavin' him in the street like anybody else would have done, the earl picked Samuel up and carried him back to the inn where he was stayin'. Ain't that somethin'?"
Before Carolyn could answer that it was indeed, Katie continued, "The earl got doctors for Samuel and saw to it he got well. And when he did, he offered Samuel a job-provided Samuel never stole again. And he hasn't. Not once. Might not believe just anybody who told me that, but somethin' 'bout Samuel inspires trust. Given the way he's helped me, I believe him."
Carolyn looked up from bandaging Katie's hand, her mind swirling with this surprising information. "And now Lord Surbrooke has offered you a job as well."
"So it would seem, thanks to Samuel."
Finished with Katie's hands, Carolyn wet a clean cloth and gently dabbed at the young woman's face. "How long has Samuel been Lord Surbrooke's footman?" she asked.
"'Bout a year. Sang Lord Surbrooke's praises he did. Not only about savin' him, but then there are the dogs."
"The dogs?" Carolyn repeated, bewildered.
"Stubby, Limpy, and Droopy he called them, all named for their… problems."
"Problems?"
"Yes, milady. Stubby lost his tail, Limpy's missin' a leg, and Droopy only has one ear that's-"
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