Page 35 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Lord Ludovic Courtenay, youngest son of the Marquess of Farringdon, was bored. This was usually cause for concern. When Ludo was bored, bad things happened. To be fair, Ludo did not intend for bad things to happen, not anymore. He had been trying his best to behave himself for over a year now, but he simply appeared to be a magnet for trouble. If there was something brewing within a mile of his person, he would gravitate—quite unknowingly—towards disaster. It was a gift of sorts, and one he was beginning to wish he did not possess. Once upon a time, he had revelled in his ability to create chaos and turn any polite party into a re-enactment of Sodom and Gomorrah, or Gentleman Jackson’s boxing club. Recently, however, it had become a millstone around his neck. He was bored and tired and… lonely. Everything he had always enjoyed had lost any appeal. Brawling and causing trouble had long since failed to satisfy him. He supposed he must be getting old. A lowering thought. His ballet dancers and opera singers, and all the pretty ladybirds with whom he usually associated were lovely, and good company, and he was very fond of them, but….

But.

Ludo sighed and snatched a glass of champagne from a server. He ought not be here. This was not the kind of event he got invited to, which was why he’d had one of his less disreputable friends smuggle him in. The cream of the ton were here, and so he was not welcome. He’d be evicted at any moment, no doubt.

“Ludo, what the devil are you doing here?”

Ludo looked around to see the cool grey gaze of the Earl of Falmouth upon him.

“Falmouth,” Ludo replied, smiling. “Don’t worry, I’m on my best behaviour.”

Falmouth snorted. His wife, the countess, gave a heavy sigh.

“Oh, zhat is a pity, and it is such a dull party, too,” she said in her charming French accent.

Ludo grinned at her.

He liked the earl and his beautiful young wife. Unlike most others present, they were not the least bit stuffy. In fact, if the rumours about the earl were true, he was a dangerous man. Though close to two decades older than his wife, their marriage was a remarkable success. Tall, dark, and vigorous still, he was a striking figure, and his lovely French countess stared up at him as though he’d hung the moon for her alone. That the two of them adored each other was plain to see, and Ludo was struck by a jolt of something that felt remarkably like jealousy.

“Hunting, Ludo?” Falmouth queried.

“Hardly,” Ludo lied, and felt an unaccustomed tinge of heat creep up the back of his neck.

The fellow was too astute for his own good. Ludo hadn’t even admitted to himself that he’d come hoping to meet a nice young lady, and… and what? The usual experience was one of watching them blush and stammer and then remove themselves from his company as though the devil had come to tea. He supposed it was true enough. He had been so intent on punishing his family over the past years that he’d never stopped to consider he might be punishing himself, too. He’d made a career of showing his so-called father and brothers that he did not want them, just as they had spent his entire childhood vividly illustrated how badly they’d not wanted him, and now… well, now no one else wanted him either.

After a few words with Falmouth and his lady, Ludo moved on, draining his glass on the way and snatching up another. Two young ladies passed by, arm-in-arm, chattering merrily until they saw him. They blanched and skirted around him as if they might be ruined simply by breathing the same air. Irritated, Ludo winked at them and they gasped, hurrying away. He snorted. This was utterly pointless. He did not understand why he had bothered to come tonight.

Liar.

And there she was.

Felicity Bunting was standing talking to Thomas Tindall. Tommy, to his intimates, was the Earl of Stanthorpe, and an easy-going, good-natured chap. Under normal circumstances Ludo liked him, only… only he was making Miss Bunting laugh, and….

Ludo’s chest grew tight.

It was ridiculous, really. He didn’t know her at all, had never spoken a word to her. On the rare occasions they had crossed paths, though, he had admired her. There was something wholesome and real about her, as if she was truly who she appeared to be, with no pretence, no façade. Ludo had noticed she laughed often and with no restraint: a rich, joyous sound that made him want to smile. That was such a novelty of late he always gravitated towards her, as though turning towards the sun. She was also gorgeous. Thick brown hair and wide eyes of the same colour complemented a heart-shaped face with rosy cheeks that blushed a deeper shade at the slightest provocation. All of that without even considering the body that must lay beneath her gown, and God, did he want to consider it. She was all curves and softness, and he wanted very badly to seek comfort in her embrace.

So, why had he not approached her, demanded a little voice in his head. Because he was a bloody coward. Him, the wickedest rake in London, if the gossip sheets were to be believed, and he was terrified to approach a nice, gently bred lady in case she reacted the same way as all the others. He didn’t want to see her look at him in horror, did not want to see her gasp and take a step back. Which was why he was still dithering here, watching Tommy enjoy her company whilst he stood like a dog outside a butcher’s shop, salivating for something he could not have.

Yet, she had always returned his smiles. On the rare occasions they’d been in the same room, she had not looked quickly away. She had met his eyes and held his gaze, and she had smiled back. Every time. Ludo remembered every one of those occasions, from the very first, when his breath had caught in his throat in astonishment that such a woman should look at him with such open friendliness. That was where it had ended, though, for no one would dare introduce him to her. He’d all but begged on a couple of occasions, but with no joy. What kind of blaggard would introduce a man like him to such a lovely, innocent creature? Not one that Ludo had found. Though, perhaps Tommy….

Ludo moved forward. If he walked straight up to them, Tommy would feel obliged to make the introduction. The poor fellow was too good-natured to cut him. It was a rotten thing to do to such a nice chap, but needs must.

“Oh!”

Ludo stopped as someone ran into him.

“I beg your pardon,” he said at once, though he was certain it had not been his fault. A woman gazed up at him in horror, a note clutched in her gloved hand. Was that one of the Ratched sisters? Ludo had reached out and taken her elbow to steady her, and now the woman appeared to be in shock. He let her go before she could scream blue murder. She was still staring at him, and still clutching the note. Ludo frowned.

“Is that for me?”

Her gaze darted wildly around the room. She looked as if she might be sick.

“Miss Ratched?” Ludo began, beginning to feel rather awkward. “The note. Was it meant—”

Before he could finish, she thrust the note towards him. Ludo took it from her, at which point she gave a little shriek and ran away. Good Lord! Did she think he would ravish her in full view of the blasted ballroom? Aggrieved, Ludo tore open the note and stared down at it with a frown.

Meet me in the library at ten o’clock. B x.