“Oh, Arthur Pendragon, surely.” He winked. “Arthur is my given name, although no one refers to me as such, of course. Why did you assume I was in need of funds?”
“Because you’re titled. I’ve danced with second sons and seventh sons and every number in between. But no firstborn, no heir. You’re the only one thus far. Therefore, I’m striving to determine what you seek to gain.”
“Nothing more than a few minutes with a beautiful woman.”
She laughed. “Oh, you are a silver-tongued devil, aren’t you?”
His smile grew. “You’ve wounded me to the core. You may have to take a walk about the garden with me to help heal the bruises you inflicted.”
“You are a flirt, sir.”
“I’ve told you nothing that wasn’t true. Have you met anyone tonight to whom you’ve taken a fancy?”
“Good Lord, no. I’m not even looking.” She probably shouldn’t have confessed all that. She didn’t trust him and yet he was easy to speak with, especially after spending time in the company of one who didn’t utter a word. “My father arranged all this, but I’m only here so he’s not embarrassed.”
“But you’re embarrassed.” His smile had disappeared. However, such depth of understanding resided in his eyes, she nearly wept.
“I know I’m a curiosity. I know if I see any of thesepeople on the street, they will snub me, pretend to not know who I am. Or worse, let it be known they are very much aware of who I am but find me unworthy of a greeting. His love for my mother has made him blind to—”What we suffered when he was not beside us.Why the devil was she blathering on? Why did she want to confess her heartache to him? “Even you, you will ignore me, when next our paths cross.”
“I daresay I will not.”
She gave as ladylike a scoff as she could muster and arched a brow. “You claim that now—”
“Tomorrow, Hyde Park, half four. We’ll put your theory to the test.”
She had only another few seconds to ponder him and his words before the music drifted into silence, and the din of conversation took up residence, bombarding her ears and making it impossible to think, to decipher if he was mocking or daring her. Or making a promise, the sort she had little doubt every unmarried lady in the aristocracy longed for, a rendezvous in the park when it would be filled to the brim with everyone anxious to be viewed.
He repeated his earlier smooth maneuver where her hand, suddenly without any effort on her part, found itself on his firm and solid forearm. He escorted her to the edge of the dance floor, lifted her fingers to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the gloved tips so firmly the heat of his mouth managed to make its way to her skin like no barrier separated them. His gaze, intense and unwavering, never left hers. “Tomorrow. I’ll find you.”
Then he was confidently walking away, leaving herfeeling a bit unsteady on her feet, as though something significantly more than a dance had occurred between them.
King had waited. Knight had known he would. He’d been tempted to ask the lovely lady for another turn about the floor, but he’d managed to catch a glimpse of her dance card and noted not a single dance had remained unclaimed. He suspected she had the right of it. Those with empty coffers were striving to fill them as easily and quickly as possible. A daughter with a significant dowry was always the preferred method among noble sons who were opposed to work. Bugger the lot of them.
“I’ll leave it to you to explain to Bishop and Rook the reason they had to wait on us for the true merriment of the evening to begin,” King said as his coach carried them through London.
“By all means, it should fall to me, although I doubt very much if they’ll mind. We have plenty of night left.”
“You seemed anxious to leave once you finished your dance. Did it not go as you’d hoped?”
It had gone differently than he’d expected, but he hadn’t wanted to watch her dance with others, to discover if she enjoyed being in the company of someone else more. If some other gent had the ability to coax a smile from her. If her eyes would warm for another. “I was merely in the mood for a dance, King. Make no more of it than that.”
King issued a little grunt, his equivalent of calling Knight a liar, but it required no response, was merely an acknowledgment. Because it was a lie. He’d beenin the mood for a closer association with the woman, had wanted to know her better. Having her in his arms had been sublime. She was light on her feet, wispy as a cloud. Delicate and yet sturdy. But it was what he’d discovered while talking with her that fascinated him. She wasn’t like the other women who flung themselves at him, anxious to wield the power that came from being a countess who would one day be a duchess. She’d seemed to have no interest in him at all.
“I detest these balls,” King muttered. “I believe I’m going to stop attending.”
“You go to few enough as it is.”
“But going to none would be even fewer.”
“How do you propose finding a wife? The whole purpose of these affairs is to facilitate the arrangement of matches.”
“I’m not yet ready to take a wife. When I am, I’ll come up with another means to spare me the bother of these tedious social engagements. Perhaps I’ll run an advert.”
Knight laughed. “Oh, I can’t imagine that tactic will go well. Your mother won’t take kindly to your lack of participation.”
“As she’s begun to travel more, I doubt she’ll even notice.” He glanced out the window. “Ah, good. Almost there.”
The coach came to a stop. A few minutes later, they were inside the Mermaid and Unicorn. Located in Whitechapel, it was seldom frequented by nobility, which was one of the reasons they liked it. They were never bothered by people wanting investment advice.
