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She stared at them, lying there in the palm of her hand in a little pile. She wanted to fling the cursed things into the farthest corner of the room, but refrained. They were her only adornment, and a woman of her status could not go without jewelry of some kind. She threaded them around the remaining bun.
Her reflection nodded approval. Now to find Cavendish—and avoid my family.
Back on the battlefield, she found her mark lounging against the banister of the main stair. Using the servants’ cramped staircase at the back, she ascended to the upper floor and descended. Just as she came alongside her quarry, she slowed, deliberately causing the person immediately following her to collide with her.
Lurching to the side, Victoria grabbed not the rail, but instead latched onto the man’s arm draped along it.
The sea of sweeping skirts before him had taken on a whole new aspect tonight. Now, instead of seeing opportunities for enjoyment bracketed by every set of panniers, he saw only the prospects of duty and martyrdom. He must choose one female from among this bounty and bind himself to her for the rest of his life.
The idea was incredibly depressing.
A sharp outcry sounded just behind him, and then someone grabbed his arm. As he turned to convey his displeasure, Lord Julius Augustus Cavendish was for the first time in his life rendered speechless by the sight of a woman.
The girl clutching him for support was absolutely flawless. Creamy skin, hair like ink, and a mouth as lush and ripe as the forbidden fruit…
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, madam!” apologized the old walrus who’d apparently blundered into her.
“Quite all right,” she said kindly as the man disentangled his feet from her skirts. The slight husk in her voice made the back of Julius’s neck tingle. “I am uninjured, I assure you.” Her skirts now liberated, she released his arm and turned to him. “Please forgive my lack of grace, my lord. I did not mean to intrude so upon your person.”
Her eyes were the true grey of a winter sky—but without the chill. When he didn’t immediately answer her, she cast her gaze to the floor, her lashes becoming a luxury of sable against blushing cheeks.
Finally finding his tongue, he was dismayed to hear his voice come out rusty and dry. “Not at all, my lady. I’m glad of it.”
She blinked in surprise.
Damn. “Ah, what I mean to say is that I’m glad to have helped prevent an unfortunate accident—not glad that you fell.”
The beautiful creature smiled, causing a mischievous dimple to appear beside her mouth. The sight of it smote him in the chest like a physical blow, and he was startled to mark a significant stirring in his breeches. Never had a woman’s smile had such a potent effect. Not even…“Would you like to come down, or shall I come up?”
She descended the last few steps and came around to face him. He was struck again, this time by how tiny she was. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. She couldn’t be more than five feet and two inches at most—but, by George, every last one of those inches was luscious. Especially the ones above her miniscule waist.
Belatedly remembering his manners, he tore his gaze away from the enticing bounty that swelled at her gown’s neckline. “Julius Cavendish, at your service, madam,” he said, bowing.
“Lady Victoria Lennox,” she answered, curtsying with fluid grace.
His height gave him a most advantageous view of her décolletage as she dipped. Despite the distraction, however, he did not miss the slight emphasis she’d placed on the word Lady. She’d taken umbrage to his ogling. Hell. Brilliant first impression, Julius.
Then he frowned in confusion. “I’ve spoken with Richmond many times during the months since my return, and I recall him mentioning only one daughter—Amanda, is it?” For just an instant, he saw her face tighten. He would have missed it had he blinked at the right moment.
“Amelia, my lord. My sister’s name is Amelia.”
“Ah, yes. That was it. Blond, isn’t she?”
She nodded. “Yes. And quite a bit taller. One would never guess we’re sisters by looking at us.”
Indeed. The other woman had looked nothing at all like the one before him now. “Well, Lady Victoria, it is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, brushing the back of her hand with his lips. He watched, fascinated, as her grey eyes darkened to wood smoke—just before they widened in alarm. Without any explanation, the lady snatched her hand
out of his grasp, gave him her back, and walked away.
A split second of confusion passed before he gave chase. Traveling at a casual but steady pace, his target wended her way through the crush. When she reached the middle of the room, she paused and turned, seeking him out. With a smile and a subtle motion, she bade him follow.
Mystified, he stood there for a moment considering his situation. What game is the vixen playing at? Am I expected to come to heel like a dog at the call of his master? Curiosity won out over pride, however, and he followed.
The gentle motion of her hips was mesmerizing. Unlike the other women here tonight, she was unencumbered by the enormous panniers currently in fashion and wore only the smallest of enhancements. He happily contemplated the shape of the backside beneath her swaying skirts until she stopped. Looking about, he was startled to find himself on the far side of the room.
“I apologize for my terrible rudeness,” she said as he approached. “I had no time to explain, you see. Someone was coming toward me with whom I had no desire to converse.”
Though her answer was surprisingly frank, her gaze slid away and she did not offer further details. “Naturally, I assumed you had good reason for your hasty departure,” he said.
