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Chapter Four
Dash halted midstepat the entrance to the ballroom, employing every curse word known in the Anglo-Saxon vocabulary. Roddy and Dita were still greeting guests. There was no way to escape with Roddy beaming at him. He had timed his late arrival to avoid this precise situation. Hosts were supposed to be mingling and dancing at this time of night, not still in the receiving line.
The woman who would never be his stood between Roddy and Lady Beaumont, welcoming guests. Dash’s favorite four-letter word echoed loudly as heads turned and stared at him. He looked straight ahead as he waited to greet the hosts.
Roddy knew damn well what he was asking by his invitation. Dash allowed himself to be swayed by friendship. Hobnobbing at balls and soirees wasn’t a requirement of an earl. Loyalty and other emotions he wasn’t willing to put a name to had driven him to make an appearance.
Dita hadn’t noticed his entry. She was busy talking with Breville, the pup from Haversham’s. Why wasn’t she dancing? It was way past midnight. She should be busy partnering with all the eligible gentlemen worthy of an earl’s sister.
There was time for Dash to make his escape, but he couldn’t make himself move. Unable to look away from the animated, confident woman, he was captivated by her obvious joy. Her hands gestured as she spoke with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkled, her pink lips were parted in delight. The enormous amount of brandy he had imbibed didn’t dull the blow to his chest at the sight of her.
The sheer pleasure of being close to her goodness was awful and wonderful. All the candles in the ballroom weren’t as bright as her glow. She was laughing, her head thrown back in enjoyment at something said by another admiring swain.
What a fool he had been to believe he could see her and remain unaffected. He tried never to lie to himself. He didn’t indulge in self-pity. He was a realist. He had done what was necessary. But tonight made him question every moment of his life. If he had trusted her with the truth, what would his life be like?
“Beldon, hadn’t expected to see you here.” Dash didn’t think the night could get worse until Yardley projected in his parliamentary voice across the room. “This is a first. Your tastes are usually more…”
Dita’s head snapped up. Shock then dismay flashed across her face when she spotted Dash. She quickly schooled herself into composure. She’d never before been able to mask her feelings or hide her reactions from him. Her face never rested in repose. She was always in motion, her mind and body spinning with energy. She had learned to protect herself from men like him. Another sin to be laid at his feet. One of many.
Time slowed as he waited for the moment when her eyes met his. The force of the connection disrupted the air around him, sending charges of shimmering brilliancy throughout the space. The candles dimmed and the music faded. His heart accelerated as every sinew tightened. She took a quick breath before she dismissed him with a flutter of her long eyelashes. Turning her attention to her next admirer, she greeted a young fop whom Dash didn’t recognize. An awful brew of possessiveness and jealousy stirred in him.
Her dismissal forced feelings that had remained long dormant. He wasn’t one of the youthful suitors hanging on her smiles and sparkling eyes. He wasn’t a man to be ignored. He was a dangerous man.
“My God, old man, glad you dragged yourself out of that hellhole.” Roddy shook Dash’s hand.
Dash paid little attention to the exchange with Roddy. He was aware only of Dita’s nearness. Her scent of vanilla overwhelmed his senses, taking him back in time. When she had asked his opinion of her perfume, he had joked that men didn’t want women who smelled like a kitchen. He had lied. The scent was more potent than any exotic, sophisticated French perfume. The homey fragrance was laced with memories of golden days of laughter free from responsibility and an impending war.
She turned toward Roddy and made no attempt to lower her voice. “I don’t remember Beldon being on the guest list?”
He had to suppress his laughter. She believed she could embarrass him. Crashing a ball was an ignoble deed in her world. Not in his. He wasn’t the man she remembered. She assumed he would play by polite society rules. Perdita had no idea what he was capable of in service to his country. And he hoped to God she never would.
Despite her airs of sophistication, she still didn’t have the sense to walk away from a challenge. She was too innocent or naïve not to realize that she had just thrown down a gauntlet that no red-blooded male could refuse. As if she had the power to assign him to society’s dungeons. By his title, he would be accepted no matter how odious or criminal his activities. The presence of Yardley tonight proved his point.
She wouldn’t look at him when he crowded her space, moving close enough to see the green and golden flecks in her eyes and the blush staining her cheeks. Dita had the mouth of a highly paid courtesan with a dark beauty mark over her full pink lips. How many men had tasted those lips? Blistering hunger and lust were fomenting beneath his skin. The carnal images of what he wanted made him restless and irritable, proving what he already knew. He should not have come.
“Lady Perdita, charming as always.” He lifted her hand and turned over the palm to press a kiss through her gloves. The slight tremor of her delicate wrist provided primitive gratification that she wasn’t as immune as she pretended. Her skin flushed and the pulse in her throat quivered. He wanted to press his lips to the beating heartbeat and trace the path downward.
“You presumptuous ass.” She pulled her hand away. Her hazel eyes flashed thunderous like gathering storm clouds. “Go away.”
“Not until I have the dance Roddy promised me.”
Her plush lips curved ever so slightly. It took all his restraint not to lean close and press his lips against hers to consume and absorb her amusement.
“I’m sure you’ll make our ball the talk of the Season if you dance with Roddy.”
“This feels like old times with you two at odds.” Roddy clapped his hand on Dash’s shoulder, trying to lessen the tension. “You’re garnering a lot of attention. You might want to make nice.” Roddy grinned widely at the guests who mingled close, not wanting to miss every word exchanged by thedark lord.
Damn it, he didn’t come to embarrass Roddy or Perdita. Everything he said or did tonight would be the topic of conversation in tomorrow’s drawing rooms. He was a master of control, but the sight of Perdita stirred everything best left in the past.
“Lady Beaumont, have you had the pleasure of an acquaintance with the Earl of Beldon?” Perdita smiled widely, displaying all her perfect teeth, and nodded to the guests who openly pressed closer. Her jaw was clenched as well as her hands at her sides.
Lord Rathbourne’s aunt was a feisty good sort and had always been welcoming upon his visits to Rathbourne House.
“My lady and I are closely acquainted.” Dash pressed a kiss to Lady Beaumont’s palm and gave his most sensuous smile.
Lady Beaumont chortled aloud. “You rascal, Beldon. I’m sure there are many impressionable women who will fall under the spell of your charm tonight. I’m not one of them, and it seems neither is Lady Perdita.” She winked at him. “I think you’re going to have to work on your charm with the more discerning women.”
Perdita snorted. “I believe Beldon chooses his women for their lack of discernment.”
