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“Well tonight I’m sure there will be a few suitable ones present – why don’t you just pick one of them?”
Leon shook his head, his heart sinking, but was saved from answering by the footman opening the carriage door. They went up the steps in silence, and once through the receiving line, Leon took the chance to escape from his grandmother’s proximity on the excuse of greeting gentlemen he knew.
After a few short conversations, he turned to see Lady Iris Gardenbrook entering the room. She was, somehow, more beautiful than ever, even dressed in the stark black of deep mourning. His grandmother’s words came back to him – ‘just pick one of them’ – and, unbidden, the thought rose – If I had to choose a woman tonight, it would be Lady Iris.
That thought shocked him a little, and he turned his gaze away from her. She was temptation incarnate – beautiful, musically gifted and, he was quite certain from their previous encounters, not averse to his company. And if he was to be true to his stated intentions, that meant avoiding her, completely. He would not ever, intentionally, put a woman he cared for as much as he cared for her in the position of having to deal with his family.
Near him, a door opened, showing him a view of a hallway beyond – without further thought, he moved, slipping through the door and down that hall. Perhaps he could find a music room, and distract himself from the social horror that the evening seemed fit to be, and the temptation of Lady Iris’ presence.
>>>
Iris had been surreptitiously watching Lord Greenleigh from the moment that she had realised he was present. Every time they had seen each other for near two months now, he had been polite, distant, and impossible to talk to. Her patience was wearing thin, even as her determination increased. Perhaps tonight, there would be a chance…
Then, as she sipped at a glass of orgeat whilst her mother spoke with Lady Gillieston, she saw him quietly leave the large parlour by way of a door on the other side of the room – a door which, if she remembered rightly, led to a hallway which ran towards the back of the house. This was her chance!
She tapped her mother on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Mother – I’m going to the necessary.”
The Duchess gave a nod, never really pausing in her conversation, and Iris deposited her glass on a side table, and crossed the room, her heart beating hard. Once through that door, she set off down the hallway, wondering where Lord Greenleigh might have gone, and whether there was anywhere in this direction which might provide her with the chance to speak to him privately.
Then it came to her – at the end of this hall, there was a music room…. She almost ran down the empty hall until she reached that door, then paused, peering inside.
Lord Greenleigh was there! He settled onto the pianoforte bench as she watched and Iris took a deep breath, then slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Now, she was scandalously alone with him, and the small voice of reason urged her to turn back. She pushed it aside – she had waited months for a chance like this, and she wasn’t going to waste it!
Chapter Four
Lady Neelsham, whilst to all appearances absolutely fascinated by the gossip which Lady Gillieston was imparting to her, was actually watching her grandson closely. It had become patently obvious that her daughter was not going to do her duty and see the boy settled with a suitable wife – which meant that she would simply have to take on that task herself.
And now, as she watched, Greenleigh slipped out of the room. Was he actively avoiding the company of young ladies? She rather suspected that he was, and irritation flared – her granddaughter was lost to the ravages of a strange wasting madness, and she wanted to see her grandson wed, and breeding healthy children before she died, to wash that distasteful fact from her mind. Lady Gillieston droned on, and Lady Neelsham counted the minutes. If he did not reappear within a reasonable time, she would gather up his irresponsible mother and go in search of him.
>>>
The click of the door closing alerted him, and he spun around on the bench, annoyed that this sanctuary he had found was already being stolen from him, before he had even played one note. But what he saw shocked him to immobility, his breath caught in his throat.
Lady Iris Gardenbrook pushed herself away from the door she had just closed, her hand falling to her side, and, holding his gaze, she walked across the room until she stood beside him. Her soft footsteps were the only sound, although his heart beat so hard in his chest that he wondered she could not hear it, playing counterpoint to her steps.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. He simply stared into those sky-blue eyes, watching clouds of some deep emotion flit across them, filled with the desire to reach out and touch her. But he did not. He knew that he should ask her to leave, or leave himself, that this moment was beyond scandalous in all ways. But he did not speak. The silence stretched, until she smiled, that smile that left him feeling as if he had never been smiled at before, so bright was it, so devastatingly conspiratorial.
“I…” her voice was just a little shaky, “I wanted to speak to you, about… that… that duet… it was…”
Her words trailed away, as if she could find no way to express her feelings. He could understand that – he felt the same.
“It was. I agree.”
She smiled again as he spoke, and he felt that somehow, what had just been said was so much more than the words used. It felt like a declaration.
She swallowed, and her tongue flicked out to nervously trace the line of her lips – lips which, in that instant, he wanted to kiss.
“I want…”
There was that hesitation again, as if she were afraid that he would reject what she was about to say. In that instant, he knew that there was no possible chance of that – he would not, no matter what she said or did, reject her, despite the fact that every moment they stayed here together risked discovery and ruin for her, and the destruction of his carefully kept façade which protected his family’s secrets.
“You want?”
His voice was as uneven as hers had been. Suddenly, as if she no longer had the strength to stand, she dropped to sit beside him on the pianoforte bench. There was not enough room, and he quickly caught her about the waist to prevent her from falling, even as he edged across and made space for her to sit properly.
At his touch, she gasped – but it was not a sound of horror or annoyance, more one of pleasure. It was a sound that heated his blood, and made his head spin in a manner that he had never experienced before. She tilted her head up and met his eyes, her face mere inches from his, her lips so close… He bent his head and brushed a kiss across those lips, a madness of the moment making him risk everything to taste her.
