Page 31 of The Earl’s Hoyden

“Because every lady in the room is staring at you, my son,” Lady Brightstone replied.

He took in the bold gazes of several women, who demurely lowered their eyes when he met them. Yes, many women were openly watching him, silently staking their interest.

The banter he’d engaged in with Miss Bexley during their dance had been enjoyable. He hoped it would be as much so with other ladies of the ton. Maybe he had been wrong about his marriage fears this whole time.

Perhaps it could truly be something pleasant.

He escorted his mother to Lady Arksford, her dearest friend, and left the two whispering frantically to one another as he pretended that their quiet words weren’t about him. That was when he saw her—Miss Bexley with her fiery hair piled in curls atop her head and bound with a length of emerald-green ribbon. She wore a matching frock that made her skin glow like fresh cream.

A dance with her first would be best. To obtain several last-minute tips on how best to speak and behave. And, of course, to thank her for the book.

Doubtless, the missive he penned was inadequate. He’d written it several dozen times, foolishly nervous as he weighed each word. It had taken the better part of an hour to decide how best to sign it.

First, he’d gone with Lucien, but that was too familiar. Yet, Lord Brightstone had seemed so overly formal.

Now he couldn’t recall exactly what he’d written, only that it had seemed sufficient.

“Lord Brightstone.” A lady in a bright pink gown and stiff blonde curls stepped into his path.

He politely smiled as he focused behind her to keep an eye on where he’d seen Miss Bexley.

“Lady Alison.” She batted her lashes, and he briefly wondered if she had something in her eye. “Do you recall?”

How ironic that she now worried if he recalled her even as she had always forgotten him in the past.

“Ah, yes.” He nodded with an aloof air. “So good to see you.” He shifted slightly and turned his attention from her, ready to stride toward Miss Bexley.

“I thought the same when I discovered you were also in attendance.” She blinked up at him, her gray eyes imploring. “My dance card isn’t full…yet.”

Every morsel of his being begged to be away from the woman’s heavy presence. And yet, he was not there to dance solely with Miss Bexley. He was attending all those awful social events with a mind toward marriage. And Lady Alison was definitely interested.

“Would you care to dance with me later this evening?” he asked.

“We can dance now.” She bounced a little higher on her toes. Her curls did not move with the action, but her generous bosom jiggled.

Lucien purposefully averted his gaze. “Forgive me, but I have already promised the first set to another.”

Lady Alison gave him a pout that immediately told him he would not enjoy life with her and already regretted the solitary dance he would be forced to endure.

“The next one then?” she pressed.

“It would be an honor,” he said, though he genuinely wanted to reply with “If I must.”

Finally, she left him, freeing him to go to Miss Bexley.

At least until a woman walked headlong into him, sending her fan plopping to the ground at his feet. He hurriedly bent to pick it up for her.

The young woman had dark hair, green eyes and far too much rouge. She giggled as he handed her the fan. “Thank you. How very clumsy of me.” She giggled again, and he realized their collision had not been accidental at all.

How very vexing.

“Think nothing of it.” He smiled tightly.

“Lord Brightstone, do you truly not remember me?” she asked in a lightly chiding tone.

He did not.

“Miss Closewell. From Yorkshire.” She lifted her brows and waited for recognition to dawn.