Heartless

by Jaimey Grant

  “What rumors?” Aurora asked in spite of her dislike for harmful gossip.

  Ellie pursed her lips for so long a moment, Aurora didn’t think she would tell her. “It is believed that he has killed two men in duels, ruined more than one innocent, drinks heavily, gambles only in the most disreputable of gaming dens, and keeps several mistresses. His grandfather, the first duke, made his fortune in piracy. It is said that he amassed so much wealth, the King, for fear of the man, granted him the dukedom in a bid to keep the man loyal to the crown. Lady Watson said that the present duke is involved in some illegal activities just like his grandfather. No one dares to ask him outright, or accuse him of anything, but the rumors abound anyway.”

  To Aurora, none of it mattered. The man was a handsome gentleman, to be sure, and appeared every bit as dangerous as rumor claimed. Why, he wore nothing but black. Even his linen was black. To match his soul?

  Perhaps that would be to her advantage. Many a man would think twice before tangling with a peer of such appearance and reputation.

  She had to wonder, however, if such a man could be made to fall in love.

  “Why is he accepted here?” Aurora asked curiously.

  “Oh, his mother was bosom bows with Lady Sefton and he is very powerful for all he is only seven and twenty, nearly as powerful as his grandfather was. Lady Watson said none of it matters since the duke will die soon,” Miss Ellison told her young friend sotto voce. She was rewarded with a gasp at this little tidbit. “Apparently, his grandfather was killed by highwaymen when he was five and thirty. The second duke was four when he ascended to the title. He died in a boating accident when he was two and thirty, a year after his wife was found dead in their home near Folkestone. The present duke has held the title since he was seven.”

  “But his father and grandfather died in accidents. Why would that suggest he will die young, as well?” Aurora asked, frowning.

  Miss Ellison shrugged. “It is the way of gossip, I suppose. One will find intrigues where none exist.”

  “Oh,” was Aurora’s enlightened reply.

  Miss Ellison returned to indicating the notables present. “Conversing with Mrs. Drummond-Burrell and Princess Esterhazy is Lord Gideon, the Earl of Holt. I have heard nothing negative about that very handsome young man,” Ellie informed her. “He is vastly popular with ladies and gentlemen, never duels, rarely gambles, and patronizes only Weston, as you can plainly see.”

  The earl was standing with two of the patronesses of Almack’s, directly behind Lord Castlereagh’s group. He was a very handsome man with curly blond hair and sleepy brown eyes. He wore an immaculate burgundy jacket that stretched perfectly over his shoulders, a pale blue waistcoat embroidered with colorful birds of paradise, and skintight inexpressibles of dove gray. He appeared quite the peacock among crows. Aurora thought him too lazy to suit her, but Town didn’t seem to boast quite the number of eligible gentlemen she had hoped.

  A young man of quite astonishing size and good looks approached the men surrounding the foreign minister. He was greeted heartily and handed a glass of champagne by one of Lady Jersey’s many minions—the lady had decided to break with tradition and serve refreshments.

  Aurora stared at the boyishly handsome young man. He was dressed rather plain, she thought, in a jacket of dark green Bath superfine, biscuit colored pantaloons, and plain white waistcoat. He’d tied his starched white cravat in the Oriental and his curly dark brown hair was in fashionable disarray. But, oh my, did he look magnificent. She decided he would be absolutely delicious in whatever he chose to wear. So many gentlemen used padding to enhance their appearances but she suspected he was not one of them. Quite ridiculous since one could usually tell.

  She wondered what he looked like without all his finery.

  Her eyes widened in astonishment. Never, in over three years, had she wondered such a thing.

  She found herself contemplating what color his eyes were when the gentleman undergoing her perusal happened to glance around the room and catch her eye. Aurora’s eyes were still wide from her inappropriate thought and she blushed furiously when he gave her a questioning look, smiled and raised his glass to her. Turning away, she forced her breathing to calm. The man could use that smile as a weapon, she thought as she began to fan herself vigorously.

  “Rory, dear, do still your fan. You are declaring to the room that you are engaged,” Miss Ellison warned. “You are also wreaking havoc on your charming coiffure.”

  “I apologize, Ellie,” Aurora mumbled. She had tried to learn the intricate language of the fan but much of it eluded her in times of anxiety. To think, she had almost made a mull of her marriage prospects by fanning her flushed cheeks!

  She looked out of the corner of her eye at the young man who had so upset her equilibrium. He was gone. She made a disappointed sound in the back of her throat before she could stop herself.

  “Looking for me?” came a very deep voice from somewhere behind her.

  Aurora turned her head and looked up at the large man standing in the shadows. She attempted to stare him down—which was a difficult task considering he was so much taller and she couldn’t see his face very well. She could tell he was grinning, however.

  “Get rid of your companion,” he said low enough that Miss Ellison couldn’t hear.

  “Whatever for?” Aurora asked sharply. Ellie cocked her head and frowned at Aurora’s tone. Miss Glendenning smiled innocently and patted her hand in a soothing gesture. Placated, Ellie returned her attention to the dowager on her other side.

  “I would talk to you,” was his reply.

  Aurora stuck her little button of a nose in the air. “That would not be wise, sir, as we have not been properly introduced.” She turned away from him and pretended to study the other guests.

  She heard a rustling of greenery behind her and assumed he had left her in peace. She didn’t care for the way his presence affected her breathing. Such feelings were dangerous. Acting on feelings like the ones she was currently enduring resulted in illegitimate offspring—as she knew all too well.

  *****

  Levi approached his cousin Bri. He had to meet the pert little minx with the golden hair. If she wanted to do it all properly, so be it. He just prayed Bri or Adam knew the chit.

  They didn’t. Adam agreed she was beautiful; Bri scowled at her smiling husband and then agreed with both gentlemen. Lord Connor Northwicke and his wife approached the little group and after exchanging greetings, inquired as to the cause of Levi’s frown.

  “He wants to meet the pretty young lady near Lady Dunfield but no one seems to know her,” Adam supplied.

  Levi turned to leave, mumbling something about asking Lady Jersey to introduce them since the girl had obviously been invited.

  Lord Connor’s wife Verena stopped him. “I’ll introduce you to her, Levi,” she said softly.

  Her husband looked at her with raised brows. “Are you acquainted with her, love?”

  “A bit,” Verena answered evasively.

  The earl offered his arm to Connor’s wife and led her across the room. He chatted with her about her children until she relaxed. She’d tensed when he’d pointed out the girl he desired to meet. It was most odd.

  As he talked, he mused over the strange little lady with the even stranger eyes.

  When he had seen her wide-eyed perusal of him, he’d been amused. As he watched her, favoring her with the same treatment she had so recently given him, he decided he wouldn’t mind having her in his bed. After those few brief words he’d had with her, he decided he wouldn’t mind at all being married to the chit. She was unique and adorable. She would never bore him, of that he was sure.

  If she was rich, he had found his bride. All the others could go to the devil.

  *****

  Aurora saw them approach. She was so nervous to be face to face with the handsome young Adonis that she failed to notice his companion. It was not until she glanced away and her eyes caught sight of a familiar pearl p
endant around the woman’s throat that Aurora turned her complete attention away from the gentleman and looked into the face of her childhood friend.

  Eyes widening, her smile returned as she stepped forward. “Doll!” she exclaimed, using the pet name Verena had had since childhood. “Oh, my dearest friend!” She threw herself into the other lady’s arms.

  Verena hugged her back with tears in her eyes and launched immediately into speech. “I heard you were in Town, but I had no opportunity to call upon you. The children were ill and Connor’s a bear and the nanny needed help. I am so sorry about your parents.”

  Levi stood by, forgotten by both young women in their enthusiasm at being reunited. He cleared his throat. Verena glanced up, her mouth forming a little ’oh’ of embarrassment.

  “I am sorry, Levi,” she said, lips twitching in the most suspicious manner. By this time, they had the attention of nearly half the assemblage. “Rory, permit me to introduce Lord Greville. Levi, this is Rory.” She smiled. “I mean, Miss Aurora Glendenning.”

  Levi bowed and Aurora curtsied as was proper.

  Miss Ellison looked at Aurora. She took the hint. “And this is my friend, Miss Ellison,” she introduced dutifully. Ellie curtsied and Lord Greville bowed again.

  “How is it,” Levi asked with a look of teasing, “that two such beautiful ladies have managed to stand here all alone?”

  “Oh, give over, Levi, do,” Verena commanded, tapping his arm with her fan. “I haven’t seen dearest Rory in nearly four years. Now leave us be.”

  Lord Greville’s thoughts were writ clear on his handsome face. He was annoyed to be so readily dismissed, but ever the gentleman, he smiled. “As you wish, my lady,” he replied formally. He bowed again and, with one last teasing grin for Miss Glendenning, left.

  She watched him walk away and felt her temperature rise several degrees. Whoever said ladies didn’t suffer from the same lustful feelings as women of the lower orders had bats in his belfry. It had to have been a man. No woman could look at a man like Lord Greville and not wonder what it would be like to be in his bed.

  She bit her lip, startled at her own improper thought.

  “I declare you have not heard a word I’ve said, Rory,” Verena exclaimed in exasperation.

  “I am sorry, Doll,” Aurora said with an apologetic smile. The look on Verena’s face told her that her friend had noticed the source of Aurora’s preoccupation. She flushed in embarrassment.

  Other guests approached in that moment.

  “Levi was introduced to the beautiful newcomer,” said a handsome man with blond hair and teasing blue eyes. “Now it is my turn. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Connor Northwicke. Verena’s husband,” he added at Aurora’s look of incomprehension.

  “You are married?” Aurora said, wide-eyed. She hastily curtsied as Ellie whispered that he was a marquess. “You are a marchioness?” she added then.

  Verena laughed and tucked her hand into her husband’s arm after he had been introduced to Miss Ellison and bowed to both ladies. “I am, although the title is the Marquess of Beverley and Con and I choose not to use it.” A shadow passed over her face but it was replaced with a bright smile. “It has been almost three years now,” she replied, a happy smile directed at her husband.

  “Is it my turn yet?” inquired a cynical voice just behind Aurora.

  “Behave, Adam, or else,” commanded a pleasant feminine voice.

  “Or else what, my love?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said in exasperation. “Just, or else.”

  Aurora turned and found herself looking up at the Countess of Rothsmere and Sir Adam Prestwich. She smiled uncertainly. They were both so much taller than her that they actually made her a trifle uncomfortable.

  The baronet bowed and lifted her hand to his lips, bestowing a kiss there that had his wife scowling at him. A nervous giggle escaped before Aurora could stop it.

  “Adam, you are embarrassing the girl,” his wife admonished. “She hasn’t even been introduced yet and you are already flirting with her.”

  “For shame,” Lord Connor added with a twinkle.

  “I know who you are,” Aurora offered hesitantly. She smiled at the raised brows of her new companions.

  “Our infamy, I mean, fame precedes us,” Sir Adam remarked with a smirk. “What gossipmonger has been filling your head with tales of our exploits?”

  “I assure you, it was no such thing, Sir Adam,” Aurora replied in all sincerity.

  Adam inhaled. “Egad, she does know me. What else does she know, think you?” he directed at the group in general.

  Verena laughed and rapped the baronet over the knuckles with her fan. “Leave her be, Adam. I’ll not have you teasing poor Rory just so you can see her blushes.”

  But Aurora wasn’t blushing. She studied the baronet’s wife with interest. It appeared that the lady was used to her husband’s flirting and all her admonishments were merely show. Intriguing.

  How different from Verena and her husband. Lord Connor teased but didn’t flirt and he was clearly devoted to his wife. Aurora was glad. She knew there was something in Verena’s past that haunted her and it was obvious that her husband had helped to put it behind her.

  The countess held out her hand. “I am Lady Prestwich. But I insist you call me Bri or Brianna. We are going to be friends, you see.”

  Aurora took the hand offered her and shook it, shocked at the level of informality the countess demanded. “I so hope so, my la—” she blushed. “I mean, Bri. I am Aurora, or Rory, if you prefer. This is Miss Ellison, my friend and companion. She keeps me out of trouble,” she explained with a charming grin that revealed a dimple in her left cheek.

  “We all need someone to do that,” Lord Connor inserted with a playful look directed at his wife. “That is why I’m married.”

  “Aurora?” Bri said suddenly. She didn’t wait for an answer. She looked at Verena. “Isn’t that little Julie’s second name, my dear?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Aurora’s glanced from one woman to the other. “Who is Julie?”

  “Juliana is Con and Verena’s daughter,” Sir Adam informed her.

  Aurora looked at her friend again. “Truly?” she whispered.

  Verena nodded silently as tears pooled in her violet eyes. Aurora felt answering tears form in her own eyes. “You remembered.”

  The looks of surprise, shock, and curiosity were genuine this time. A tear slipped down Verena’s cheek; one slipped down Aurora’s.

  “I think we need champagne,” Adam commented quietly to Northwicke. They retreated from the emotional females to seek out the refreshment room.

  “We are drawing a crowd,” Bri murmured to Miss Ellison. The older woman nodded. “Blast!” the countess exclaimed suddenly. Miss Ellison looked at her in shock. Bri apologized for her language. “My cousin, Greville, approaches.”

  Miss Ellison understood immediately. She grasped Aurora’s arm, the countess grasped Lady Connor’s, and the pair hurried the weeping females out of the salon and into a blessedly deserted antechamber where they could have some privacy.

  *****

  Levi scowled so fiercely that the little débutante closest to him shrieked in fright and buried her head in her mother’s ample bosom.

  Blast. He’d lost them. He wandered up and down the corridor, around corners, through vast salons, and still found nary a sign of the ladies. Just where the devil did they go?

  He heard a charming laugh somewhere to his left. He turned toward the room and put his hand on the handle. Then he heard a masculine laugh and an answering giggle. He backed away. That was most definitely not them.

  He finally gave up and returned to the ballroom. And there she was, standing on the other side of the room and laughing at something Lord Delwyn Deverell said, blast him. Levi fought the urge to march across the room and call Deverell out. It would make him a laughingstock to do something so tottyheaded over a girl he had only just met and with whom he had exc
hanged no more than three or four sentences, if that.

  So he growled instead, taking no notice of the charming widow at his side who suddenly backed away from him.

  Calling Deverell out was not a good idea anyway. Their friendship might not stand up to such a drastic test. He’d known the duke’s son since Eton but they had never been very close.

  Miss Glendenning smiled up at Deverell. Levi shifted his feet, uncomfortable with his jealousy. But he’d never been one to hesitate when he wanted something.

  And he wanted her.

  The thought of marrying the saucy Miss Glendenning was not as frightening as the thought of life with any of the other ladies upon whom he’d showered his attentions of late.

  One of those very ladies spotted him and moved his way. He considered running for his life as she was the one chit that he did not want. Her father had already made it quite plain, however, that he would favor the match and her dowry was nothing to scoff at.

  “Lord Greville, what a delight, to be sure,” Lady Marigold Danvers enthused brightly.

  Levi bowed. “The delight is mine, I assure you.” As delightful as being shot in the foot...or the knee. Definitely the knee.

  She giggled and held out her hand. Levi just barely restrained himself from glancing heavenward and dutifully kissed the air above the appendage. She giggled again.

  “Did you see Lady Margaret’s dress, my lord?” Lady Marigold said from behind her fan. “I do declare she finds the most untalented modiste in London just so she can stand out.”

  Since the young lady in question lacked the funds to frequent the latest modiste favored by the ton, she made most of her own clothes. Unfortunately, her expertise with a needle left something to be desired. The lines of the pink gown were all wrong for her angular and rather bony figure and the color clashed horribly with her flame red hair. It was also well known that she would much rather be on a horse than at any ton gathering so she never seemed to care what she looked like.

  She was a very sweet girl, however, with absolutely no malice or guile in her. Levi had had several occasions in which to converse with her and had found her quite pleasant to be around. He thought it was a shame that the gentlemen ignored her just because she hadn’t the fashion sense God gave a goat.