Page 89 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

In two weeks he would have left England, never to return, so for once he did not have to worry if he were upsetting anyone. There was no requirement for him to nod politely whilst an elderly acquaintance regaled him with a tiresome tale or an eager social climber thrust her daughter in his direction. Tonight he could do whatever he wanted safe in the knowledge that he would never see most of these people ever again. All he had to do was ensure he did not ruin Miss James in the process.

He watched her as they strolled along the terrace, reaching the end in less than a minute despite walking sedately. As they walked, some of the tension seeped from her shoulders, and before they turned back to head in the other direction she was smiling again.

‘This is by far the most reckless thing I have ever done,’ she said, leaning in so no one else could hear her words. ‘I expect you do wild things all the time.’

‘Once...’ he said, almost wistfully. A few years ago his life had been charmed, although he hadn’t been aware of it at the time. He’d lost his father when he was just twelve years old, and for a long time the grief had affected him, but five years ago things had been good. He had been surrounded by people who loved him—his mother, his older brother, his sister-in-law and his lovely nieces—and he’d had the freedom to do whatever he chose. As the second son, the title and the responsibility were never meant to be his. Robert was fair and loving and had ensured Simon had a home of his own and enough income to live a comfortable life. He’d relished his freedom then, the ability to go off at a moment’s notice, to follow his desires on a whim.

They reached the end of the terrace again and turned, Simon glancing into the ballroom. Lady Salisbury was still watching them as she spoke to an elderly couple. Her eyes were narrowed slightly, and Simon realised she was still suspicious of his companion.

‘Perhaps we should get you out of here,’ he murmured, glancing at the steps that led to the garden.

‘Surely Lady Salisbury would notice. I can feel her eyes on me.’

‘You’re right,’ he said, feeling a little disappointed. There was something appealing about slipping into the darkened gardens in the company of Miss James. ‘Let us go into the ballroom.’

‘I feel so sick I might be sick over the shoes of whatever gentleman I am meant to dance with.’

‘Don’t do that,’ he said with a smile. ‘That is a sure way to get yourself noticed.’

He led her inside, his eyes dancing over the groups of people before resting on the person he was looking for.

‘Forrester, good to see you,’ he said, clapping a man of around his age on the back.

‘Northumberland,’ Forrester said with a grin. He leaned in closer, giving Miss James an appraising look. ‘How do you manage to always end up with the most beautiful woman in the room on your arm?’

‘Forrester, meet Miss James. Miss James, this is a good friend of mine from my schooldays, Mr Nicholas Forrester.’

Forrester bent over Alice’s hand, giving her his most charming smile.

‘We need a favour,’ Simon said quickly. ‘Will you dance the next dance with Miss James? Keep her away from Lady Salisbury. If our hostess asks who she is, tell her she’s a distant relative of my mother’s.’

‘Is that the truth?’

‘No.’

Forrester looked intrigued. ‘You haven’t smuggled one of your mistresses into this society affair, have you, Northumberland?’

Next to him he saw Miss James blush, and he quickly shook his head. ‘No, Miss James is completely respectable. Will you dance with her as a favour?’

‘No favour needed. Would you do me the honour, Miss James?’

She inclined her head, and Simon watched as Forrester lead her to the dance floor. They had a few minutes before the next dance was called, and he realised he felt a spark of jealousy as Forrester bent his head close to Miss James’s to discuss something over the hum of conversation in the room.

He should move on, find some débutante to talk to, so if Lady Salisbury glanced in his direction she would see nothing suspicious, only an unmarried gentleman talking to a woman with a sizeable dowry. Simon cast his eyes around the room, but after a few seconds he found he was drawn back to where Miss James stood with Forrester. They were both smiling now, and he felt a prickle of unease. He hoped she hadn’t told Forrester of her true identity.

With his eyes locked on the couple, he watched as they took their places for a quadrille. Miss James danced well for someone who had only been to a few dances at the local Assembly Rooms. Her steps were graceful, and her body swayed in time to the music. His eyes glided over her body, taking in the curve of her hips and her slender, pinched-in waist. For the first time in a long time he felt a surge of desire.

Shaking his head ruefully he forced himself to focus on something else. Desire had no place in his life now, but he would not punish himself for merely appreciating a beautiful woman.

‘You’re prowling,’ Maria said as she approached, her voice low and filled with mirth.

‘Prowling? You make me sound like an animal.’

‘You look like an animal. Perhaps a wolf or a grumpy bear.’

‘Just what every man wishes to be compared to,’ he murmured.

‘If you do not wish to be called a grumpy bear, perhaps do not frown so. Balls are meant to be fun.’