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Lady Taffeta found herself looking up and into the Hotspur’s smoldering dark eyes, and in spite of herself, she was conscious of his charm. She felt warm all over, and a tickle of desire sprang up and teased her between her thighs in a way that made her want the feeling to last.
He smiled, took her elbow, and deftly led her away from her aunt Sissy and the elderly nobleman who had been boring them both. Taffy looked back and saw her aunt had used the opportunity to escape, and smiled to herself before she turned a frown to Lord Tarrant.
“Just what are you doing?”
“Preparing to waltz with you, my lady,” he said glibly.
“Really? They have not even struck up the music yet, and I have not been given permission from the Jersey to waltz…”
The musicians, as though in his employ, began at that very moment to play a very pretty waltz, and Taffy’s lips parted with surprise.
He chuckled and said, “And as for permission…” He nodded toward Lady Jersey.
Taffy looked toward the great lady of Almack’s, and Sarah, Countess of Jersey, who inclined her head with approval. Taffeta lowered her eyes in elegant thanks and looked up at Tarrant.
“How did you arrange that with the regent’s woman?”
“Hush … we don’t say such things out loud; you never know who might hear and carry it around that you are gossiping about her.”
She sighed, “Yes, of course, you are right, and it wasn’t nice of me either.”
She gave herself over to his expert lead as he tooled her around the ballroom in an exhilarating movement. Manners dictated she look at him and carry on a light conversation with him, but she couldn’t seem to look anywhere but at his chest.
“I am so pleased you like it. I’d hoped you would,” said Tarrant suavely.
“What? Like what?” she asked, bringing her eyes up to his face.
His smile was genuine, and his eyes glittered with amusement. “My waistcoat. You seem very interested in its design.”
She felt herself flush. “Indeed, the embroidery is unique and sets off the deep black velvet of your coat…” She smiled devilishly.
“You have such a naughty look in those beautiful eyes of yours…” Tarrant said on a husky note.
“And the tails of your coat, my lord, just the right length—oh yes, you are clothed quite beautifully.” She continued to tease.
“A younger, less experienced man would be now yours forever … slayed by your beauty, enchanted by your eyes, and bewitched by your sense of humor…” he said to her on a low note.
“But you are not a younger, less experienced man, so you are safe,” she said and gave him a saucy look. “You are all of eight and twenty … quite an old man.”
He stiffened for a moment, and then she giggled which must have won him over because he roared with laughter. Heads turned to see the Hotspur so animated by a debutante.
“Does London yet meet with your approval?”
She sighed. “I have been to London before … as a child. I was not impressed then, and I am not now … however, this waltz is quite fun.”
He chuckled. “Lady Taffeta, we are kindred spirits, you and I.”
“Do you think so? I do not.”
“You miss riding your horse freely and unattended, I suppose?”
“Yes … my aunt says I would be gossiped about and that even I would not find London gossip mongers an easy thing to contend with.” She remembered once more the pledge he had taken from her and stiffened.
He seemed to feel it for he immediately puzzled up and asked, “What is it? What have I said?”
“Naught. You have only reminded me what an obligation I owe you—if I don’t want to be meat for them to chew.”
The waltz was drawing to an end, and he would have to lead her back. She knew she had not given him much time to respond, but even so, she had hoped he would relieve her of her promise.
