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He managed a look of mild surprise. “Why, yes, the very same. Are you acquainted?”
“We’ve been introduced,” she answered. “If you’ve a message from Mr. Stanton for Lady Angelica, I should be delighted to convey it.”
He hesitated, pausing their descent. “I would, but he wished me to tell her directly. It is a matter of utmost secrecy.” He lowered his voice. “He would prefer that his interest remain a private matter, you understand.”
“I promise to tell only Angelica,” she vowed. “I shall wait until we are utterly alone to speak with her.”
He gave the appearance of teetering on the brink of an agonizing decision. “I suppose that would suffice, but if he finds out I told anyone other than Lady Angelica, he will be wroth.”
Miss Doulton’s mouth formed an adorable O and she shook her head a little, denying even the possibility.
“Then you are willing to help me?”
She nodded, and just like that, he had his secret weapon. He resumed their progress down the stair. Leaning close, he whispered, “Reggie—that is, Mr. Stanton—holds Lady Angelica in high esteem. The very highest. Being only a viscount’s son, he knows he’s beneath her,” he continued, letting just a little righteous indignation enter his voice, as though upset by the unfairness of it all. “But he simply cannot put aside his tender feelings for her. She has possessed his mind, heart, and soul, and he would do anything to obtain her favor.”
He paused a moment before delivering the coup de grâce. “Reggie has vowed that if he should somehow win her heart and hand, he will spend every waking moment of the rest of his life ensuring her complete happiness. His affection is unwavering, his intentions most noble and honorable, I assure you.”
Her eyes glistened with sudden emotion, and he visualized the jaws of the trap closing around his prey. The tale of Mr. Stanton’s unrequited love was the stuff of romantic dreams and passionate ballads, sure to make any young lady’s heart ache.
“Your Grace,” she said, her quiet voice all aquiver, “I shall be delighted to convey your message to my friend on Mr. Stanton’s behalf.”
Reginald Stanton III was as good as bagged! He observed his companion as she struggled for composure. She was a sweet little thing and not at all unpleasant to look at. It was a shame she was cast into shadow by Lady Angelica, really.
It was an ill he could easily remedy.
“You know, Miss Olivia, Lady Angelica may shine brightly, but you have your own beauty,” he said quietly, taking the opportunity to use her given name. “Tell me, why do you hide it so?”
Her bottom lip began to tremble, and her eyes filled. “A candle cannot outshine the sun. It’s not her fault she is so beautiful,” she said sadly. “I have neither the face nor the form to attract such notice, or the means to buy it. Mama says I shall be fortunate indeed to attain any gentleman’s regard, and that I must be grateful to Angelica for allowing me to be her companion. She hopes that one of her admirers will look to me as a second choice.”
Alessandro reached out and raised her chin with a gentle finger, smoothing away a tear that had traced a path down her cheek.
“Allow me to help you,” he said kindly. “I can, you know.”
She blushed and again began to tremble.
“I can make them see you for what you really are: a beautiful young woman with much to offer,” he tempted. “You would be surprised at how little effort it would take to open their eyes. I know what fascinates my own sex,” he persisted in a teasing tone. “You believe your beauty pales beside Lady Angelica’s, but I tell you: you are lovely and possess all you need to attract any gentleman’s interest.”
She stilled, a mouse hypnotized by a serpent’s gaze. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before she finally found her voice. “W-why would you wish to help me?”
“Because you are helping my friend find happine
ss.” He meant it; with her assistance, Stanton would be one less thing to worry about during his pursuit of Mélisande. And helping this little girl would be practically effortless. It would be his good deed for the day.
Miss Doulton worked up her courage at last. “How?”
It was that easy. “Take out the fichu,” he commanded, stepping in front of her to shield her from view. When she remained frozen in disbelief, he reached out and quick as lightning plucked the offending cloth from her bodice.
A gasp burst forth from Miss Doulton and her hands flew up to cover her exposed décolletage.
A décolletage that Alessandro now noted was not quite as unfortunate as he’d originally thought. He frowned as he looked her up and down. He could do nothing about the unfashionable cut of her gown, but...“Bite your lips,” he whispered.
She gaped at him.
“Bite them, or I shall have to make them look kissed,” he added, raising a suggestive brow. The threat caused immediate, saucer-eyed compliance, more from anxiety than obedience, he suspected. He nodded with satisfaction as her lips took on a fullness that was sure to arouse male interest.
“Now, we dance.” Before she could protest, he propelled her through the crush. His partner proved to be quite graceful on the ballroom floor, even if he had to abbreviate his steps a bit to accommodate her shorter stride.
If her eyes were a little fevered and her cheeks a little flushed, Alessandro knew it was all to the good. Nothing was as enticing to a man as an impassioned woman, and this petite little pixie was fast showing all the signs of becoming quite stirred.
