She had a deliciously trim figure that fit neatly in his arms. Her head reached his chin...which is a nice height for kissing... Good God, where did that come from?
Although, it had been months since he had been with a woman. Knowing he was going to have to seek a wife this season, he had broken off his arrangement with his long-time mistress before Christmas. He might not be able to make the kind of love match he had been hoping for, but he intended to make every effort toward that endeavor; keeping a mistress in those circumstances he felt would be unfair to both ladies. Consequently, his natural needs were beginning to make themselves felt.It must be that circumstance that has prompted me to think such things so precipitously.
He led off and she followed with ease, her eyes fixed resolutely on his cravat.
Objectively, her face was pleasing but not beautiful. Her best features were her eyes, wide set and fringed with dark lashes, followed by her lips, plump enough for kissing—ah, those thoughts again!Really, he should be showing better control than this. It was most unusual for him.Perhaps it denotes my tumbled state of mind?He had thought he had himself in handbetter than this. Her chin would be thought a smidgen too resolute for a woman, and her nose had a slight bump.There, that is better, more objective, less feeling!
Her reticule slid from her wrist to her elbow, pushed out of shape by its rectangular burden, and swung about awkwardly with the movement of the dance. He recalled with quiet amusement her fright when caught with her nose in a book.
“How are you enjoyingGlenarvon?” he asked.
She flushed and glanced up at him. “I was almost finished, just a few pages to go. The story isn’t much, but the satire is delightful.”
He nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Did you recognize the players?”
She chuckled. “Absolutely! It is what makes the whole thing so delicious.”
“If you like satire, have you read Voltaire?” he asked, curious to discover how far her education stretched.
She looked up startled, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted.I do like that expression. What would her lips feel like? No, no...
“Yes, but don’t tell anyone!” Something tugged in his chest at the unconscious intimacy of that. As if they were compatriots who shared a secret.Was it possible...? Don’t get your hopes up. You know nothing about her yet.All the same, his lips twitched at her hunted expression.
“I won’t. What else have you read?” He was wholly unable to resist encouraging her.
“Are you trying to trap me?”
It was his turn to be startled. “No. Why should I?” He had a reputation for starchiness he knew, but in this particular realm he held more progressive views than most.
“You know perfectly well it is not appropriate for young ladies to read things like Voltaire.”
“It is true that society thinks so.”
“You do not?”
“I am somewhat more liberal in my ideas,” he said mildly. “My sisters have all received a very good education,” he added by way of illustration.
“I had no idea,” she said softly.
“No idea about what?”
“Nothing!” she said abruptly. “What do you like to read, Your Grace?”
“I am partial to history,” he said apologetically.
Her eyes lit up. “Roman or Greek?”
“Both. I read classics at Cambridge.”
“Oh, how I envy you!” This was the most unusual conversation he had ever had with a young lady, her kissability notwithstanding, and he would rather like to prolong it. Unfortunately, the dance was drawing to a close, and he had four other young women to speak with. He returned Miss Watson to her chaperone and made a mental note to call upon her tomorrow. Unless, of course, one of the other young ladies proved to be more compelling.
And by the end of the evening, having danced with all five, he was only able to eliminate immediately the blonde and the redhead. His first impression of the widow held firm. She was definitely at the top of his list, and he had made an appointment to call upon her tomorrow to take her driving in the park. The other one, what was her name? Grenfell, yes Miss Grenfell, had been underwhelming. He’d had a devil of a time getting her to talk beyond monosyllables and her general demeanor was disinterested.Which was a bit of a facer.He wasn’t used to being treated as someone of no interest. He might have been intrigued if he weren’t so interested in the widow.
As for the wallflower, he would hold her in reserve if the widow failed. He had enjoyed their conversation, but herchangeability of mood made him wary. The widow was older, she would know the rules of a contract such as this. Miss Watson, he had a feeling was more vulnerable. There was a sweetness to her, an innocence that gave him pause. There was also that disturbing spark of heat that threw him off balance; that wasn’t something he was accustomed to.
*
Sarah returned toher chaperone’s side after her waltz with the duke, only to be pounced on by Daphne, who had been drawn away when the duke appeared at Almack’s, which was why Sarah had snatched the opportunity to read her book in the first place.
