Her memories of the one time she had spotted him across a ballroom did not do him justice. Oh, she had noted his handsomeness well enough. But it didn’t convey the sparkle in his eyes at close range that spoke of forbidden pleasures. Or the humor in those lips that seemed to invite mischief. Nor did it prepare her for that smooth voice that slid over her senses like warmed honey.
After meeting him in the flesh, she felt attracted. Captivated. Wanted to get closer and know more. With dismay, she realized that if she wasn’t careful, she could very well fall under hisspell. And that would be disastrous if he was the rake he was purported to be.
In the overheard conversation with the footman, he had, however, expressed his unwillingness to marry. And indicated he had no intention of falling in with his parents’ plans. Did he object to her specifically? No, unlikely. They had not been introduced, and he had never even taken notice of her. After all, his inclinations ran more toward disreputable ladies than debutantes. The fact that he didn’t recognize her now was proof he didn’t know the first thing about her. Could his disinterest be considered a show of rebelliousness for the way in which their parents had arranged their marriage? Or did it have a deeper meaning?
Perhaps he had valid and profound reasons to object to an arranged marriage. It would behoove her to get to know him and ascertain if they could get along and build something between them. And she had to do it before he knew who she was. Once he found out her identity, he would put on his social mask and only tell her what he thought she wished to hear.
It seemed fate had given her a unique opportunity to get to know her betrothed, and she was going to take advantage of it.
“What would it take for you to allow me to play Oberon to your Titania?” he asked with a playful smile.
“I don’t know, my lord. That is for you to find out. Don’t say I have to teach you how to woo a lady?”
He laughed, the sound full and joyful. Enchanting her with his carefree manner. Of course, a rake had to be charming. It was almost a requirement, and this man knew about jokes and laughter, a deviltry.
“Fair point, lovely lady.” He offered her his arm. “Would you walk with me? I promise I’m your only hope of getting out of this maze before dinner.”
Oh, the arrogance. “What makes you think I want to get out? Or that I can’t do it by myself?”
“Because you ended up at this dead end. You are wandering aimlessly. Admit it. You are lost and need my help.”
“Fine. I’ll go with you. But only if you tell me something interesting about yourself while we walk.” She placed her hand on his bent arm and allowed him to lead her through the maze. He moved with the casual confidence of once who knew exactly where he was headed and wasn’t concerned about the route.
“Something interesting?” he pondered. “Ah, but I don’t know you, Titania. I would hate to bore you due to my lack of knowledge of what you would consider amusing.”
“Hmm, I guess that’s true. Tell me what you like to do for fun.”
“Nothing special. Riding, boxing, sometimes a bit of drinking or gaming. But nothing excessive, the same as any other chap.” She noticed he conveniently left out wenching, as one of his pursuits, although she was reasonably sure he engaged in that as well.
“That’s all very well, but not what I meant. Do you have any special hobbies or interests?”
A frown appeared between his brows, but it wasn’t one of disapproval, more of thinking.
“Would you consider me extremely dull if I didn’t have any?”
“You tease me, my lord. I’d wager you could not be dull if you tried.”
He laughed. “When younger, I used to like to design and build things.”
That sounded intriguing. “Things? What sort of things?”
“Devices, gadgets. Curiosities. But nothing too important.”
She looked sideways at him. “But you don’t do that anymore?”
He shrugged. “I still like to design and craft things with my hands. Alas, I don’t have as much time to indulge. Adult life comes with its own set of responsibilities.”
“I suppose,” she considered. “Although it’s sad that we sometimes forget about the things that make us happy. Did you create something that you are particularly proud of?”
He laughed. “I don’t know if proud is the right word, but I thought myself very clever when I invented a walking stick that contained a hidden flask. I used to fill it with spirits and drink it while attending classes at university. Until a professor noticed and I was officially reprimanded. The worst part was that my walking stick was confiscated. After that, I had to remain regrettably sober during classes.”
She burst out laughing. Not only because of his humorous retelling of the story but also at realizing he had a naughty streak and more than his share of creativity. Her intended was funny and charming. She could fall for this man. Already she liked him. A lot. Dangerous.
“What about you? Do you have any hobbies, Titania?” His question took her by surprise. In her experience, people liked to talk about themselves and showed very little interest in her.
“I like to make perfumes,” she confessed, observing him to see if he was dismissive, or amused, or condescending. But he turned to her with genuine interest.
“That is fascinating! You must tell me more.”
