His Dark Enchantress (Books We Love Regency Romance) (5 page)

The Countess
started to move away with Lady Jersey, but returned only to look more closely at Emmaline before reaching forward and patting her cheek. “Your beauty is more than I remembered. Take my advice, my dear, make it work for you. And while you are in London, if you need anything at all, simply send word to me.”

Emmaline curtsied
again as, with a smile, the Countess walked away in a light rustle of burgundy satin, her mother-of-pearl reticule swinging gently from her wrist.

“Oh, my,” Juliana whispered, her
eyes as round as saucers. “Where did you meet the Countess that you are on speaking terms with her?”

“In
Madrid and again in Paris,” replied Emmaline, keeping her voice low and her glance down. “But I could wish that she had not been so particular in her attentions.”

“You never mentioned her in your letters.”
A thoughtful look gleamed in Juliana’s eyes.

Emmaline
shrugged a shoulder. “Had I wrote of it I would have been charging the connection with more import than it carries.”

Juliana disagreed, but
refrained from saying so. She intuited there was more to that meeting than she was privy to.

And she was not the only one. From
his spot on the gallery Sir Peregrine Styles marked the exchange. His blood quickened at the sight of the dark haired girl beside Juliana. If she would not entertain his advances, perhaps her companion would. And what was her connection with the Countess? There was something to be discovered there. Styles moved back from the gallery and melted into the crowd.

At
Emmaline’s elbow Beamish leaned in to whisper, “Bit overwhelming to be singled out by the foremost Lady Patronesses, is it not, Miss Devereux?”

“Indeed, yes, but very exciting.” Emmaline gripped the silver chain of her reticule
, the only solid contact she could maintain in the crush of people which swayed this way and that like trees in the breeze.

Beamish found chairs where they could sit to watch the dancing. Emmaline took a breath and looked around her. The windows were dressed with simple drapes. Light sparkled f
rom massive chandeliers and reflected back a thousand times over from the large mirrors hanging on the walls.

“Ah, a quadrille,”
Beamish announced. “Juliana, may I lead you out?”

Emmaline watched, fascinated, as a delicate flush coloured Juliana’s cheeks. She’s in love with him, she thought as J
uliana took Beamish’s hand. Before she could think more on it, Lucius appeared beside her.

“Would you
care to accompany me, Miss Devereux?”

He held
out his hand to her and Emmaline could not refuse without giving offence and making a scene. Her heart thudded wildly as she casually perused her dance card.

“I am not engaged for this dance,” she
said.

“I would be shocked if you were,” Lucius responded quietly. “After all, you have only been in London for a few days.”

“Indeed, no time at all to meet eligible persons,” she quipped as she took his hand.

“A
barb in the rose,” Lucius said mournfully. “Am I to take it that you do not consider me an eligible person?”

“Not at all, my Lord. In fact, you are far too eligible.”

Emmaline glanced up at him as she tried to gauge his mood and a flush rose up the column of her neck as the irony of the situation did not escape her.

Juliana clearly was in love with Beamish.

And she? Emmaline swallowed hard. Attracted to Lucius? Definitely. In love with him? Her head said No, that could not be possible. Her heart said Yes. Instantly and irrevocably.

As the
first strains of the stately music began, she concentrated on the pattern of the dance. She listened for the rhythm and stepped out with a confidence she did not feel. The warmth and atmosphere of the room pressed in on her.

Feeling
a little light headed, she avoided looking at Lucius as they passed and re-passed, advanced and retreated in time to the music. Each time Lucius lightly caught her fingers to turn her, her breath faltered. Relief flooded through her when she heard the final bars of the set.

“Do you waltz as well as you dance the quadrille?” Lucius enquired as he returned her to her seat
. Her perfume, that delicate fragrance of gardenias and honeysuckle, was more noticeable now her skin was warmed with her exertions.

“I believe so.
” Every nerve came alive as Emmaline thought of being held close to him and she hoped he would not notice the tempo beating in her neck.

“Then I claim the supper dance.” He bowed low over her hand and retreated into the
throng of people around them.

Deep in thought
Emmaline only came to her senses after a sharp tap on her arm from Juliana’s fan.

“Where were your thoughts wandering?” Juliana asked.

Emmaline ignored the speculative gleam in her friend’s eye. “Nowhere important, but I do have a question for you.”

“And
that is?”

“How long have you been in love with Mr. Beamish, and does he love you too?”

“Oh!” Juliana retreated behind the lace barrier of her fan. “How did you know?”

“My dearest friend, I know you so well.” Emmaline caught Juliana’s hand and gave it a little shake. “It was the expression in your eyes and the softening of your lips when you looked at him. I could not mistake it.”

“Please, please, do not say anything to Lucius,” Juliana begged. “I am not sure that he would approve of the suit and, much as I can tease and taunt him, I cannot defy him when it comes to a suitable marriage. William is waiting for the right time to approach him and we can only hope Lucius will give us his blessing.”

“Do not worry, your secret
is safe with me.” Emmaline released Juliana’s hand. “And here is Mr. Beamish to claim another dance.”

Beamish brought with him a gentleman he introduced as Sir Richard Stonehouse who, he declared, would be deuced happy to request
Miss Devereux for the next dance.

Emmaline accepted the invitation and
stepped her way through another quadrille. Sir Richard danced well, but not as well as Lucius. When Sir Richard caught her hand, she felt nothing. Her heart did not beat faster when he stood close beside her in their pairs. His smile elicited only the most polite response she could manage. In short, he did not measure up in any way to Lucius.

A
t the thought of having Lucius’ arm around her for the waltz, Emmaline’s breath slowed in her throat. Her imagination ran riot at the expression that might cloud his grey eyes.

She closed her own eyes and took a deep breath.
Despite how much she wanted to be close to him, she could not allow it to happen, she must not.

How to escape her
situation? Without Juliana she had no chaperone. Without Lucius she had no transport.

What
had Countess Esterhazy said?

“If you need anything, just send word,” Emmaline whispered.

What she needed was to leave, and now.

She stood and looked about her
, began to weave her way through the throng of dancers, trying to locate the Countess. If she could find her, perhaps she could beg the use of her carriage and be taken home. But, before she had gone very far, Juliana caught her arm.

“Emmaline, do let me introduce
you to Miss Lassiter. She has heard of your horse riding skills and would so like to ask you about Lord Tunstall’s grey.”

Emmaline turned to face the newcomer, a smile on her face but a chill in her heart.

Now there was no way for her to make a polite exit.

CHAPTER 4

Lucius made his way between the gaming tables, silently cursing the ease with which one glance from Miss Devereux caused an unruly reaction in his breeches. One would think him an eager schoolboy, not a man of the town with the reputation of a being a rake.

Greeting
acquaintances as he passed, he stopped several times to observe the play. He watched his old friend, Lord Skeffington, deal the first card in a game of faro.

Skeffington
cast a glance at Lucius. “Do I deal you in, Avondale?”

Lucius shook his head. “I have other fish to fry this evening.”

“And very tasty it is too!”

Lucius turned his head to look at the card player who had spoken, a sharp retort on his tongue. He bit it back with some considerable effort.

“Ah,
you allude to my sister’s friend, I collect.”

“Sister’s friend?
” The player had a sneer on his dark countenance. “Is that what barques of frailty are being called these days?”

Lucius sta
rted forward, his fists bunched, but a hand came to rest lightly on his arm and he turned to face its owner, Lady Jersey. Through the figured black velvet of his evening coat he felt the warning pressure of her fingers.

“Have a care, Horace,” she murmured
to the player, all the while maintaining pressure on Lucius’ arm.

“Lady Jersey, beg pardon ma’am, I didn’t see you there,” said the unfortunate Horace, his face
now an unattractive shade of puce.

“Your remark casts aspersions on our guests and
this establishment. Gentlemen have had their vouchers withdrawn for less.” Lady Jersey inclined her head to the discomfited Horace and steered Lucius away from the table.

“Thank you, Sally. Much obliged to you for saving me from myself.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear.” Lady Jersey nodded greetings to people they passed until they reached the balcony. “But I do want to hear about this latest chit of yours.”

“Hang it all.” A growl of frustration escaped
Lucius’ throat. “The girl is Juliana’s old school friend. She is not my chit, nor likely to be.”

“Really?” Lady Jersey smiled. “That is not what I see.”

Lucius looked into her laughing eyes. Lady Jersey’s comment made him uncomfortable. If she had noticed his interest in Emmaline, would others? “You see too much, Sally, I swear you do.”

“Not only I, dear Lucius, but Lady Darnley too.”

Lucius started. “Rosemary? What has she said?”

“Nothing untoward
.” Lady Jersey gave him a calculating look. “She merely expressed an interest in being introduced to the young lady who came in on your arm. I am sure she means no harm and is simply being civil.”

“Not Rosemary,” Lucius said grimly. “She is still trying to foist that dreadful daughter of hers on me.”

“Oh, come now!” Lady Jersey shook his arm playfully. “Olivia is a perfectly biddable girl with very pretty manners and I am sure would be a good wife.”

“But not to me.”

“You cannot escape the institution of marriage forever, Lucius.”

“
Lord, that I know only too well.” Lucius pursed his lips in frustration. “What do you know of James Horace?”

Lady Jersey laughed. “Oh, well played, my Lord. A deft deflection
from the subject of marriage, I do declare.” She smiled and waved at a passerby who caught her attention but quickly turned back, to Lucius. “James Horace is, I believe, an under-secretary to the Earl Bathurst. He is not nobility, but has noble aspirations.”

“I should make his acquaintance, I think.”

“Not if you are going to make trouble.”

“I am wounded that you should think that of me.” Lucius laid a hand on his heart and cast a sorrowful glance her way.

“La, Sir, as if anything I say could pierce that thick hide of yours.” Lady Jersey smiled up at him, patted him on the arm and wandered away through the crowd.

Strolling back into the gaming room, Lucius returned to the faro table. James Horace was still there, concentrating on his cards. Lucius waited until the game ended.

“A word, if I may, Horace,” he said quietly into that gentleman’s ear. With a firm hand under Horace’s elbow he steered him adroitly out of the gaming room to the balcony he so recently shared with Lady Jersey.

“If you mean to call me out,” Horace muttered, “get it over with.”

“Call you out?” A cold grimace settled on
Lucius’ face. “My dear Horace, of course not. It is two years since I last took that route, and at least three since I shot anyone. Pistols at dawn is quite passé nowadays, and dawn is such a damnable time of day, do you not agree?”

Lucius continued to look at Horace, seeing the doubt start in his eyes. He clenched his jaw. This was a man on whom he would not waste his shot.

“So what do you want?” Horace flinched at the dangerous glitter in Lucius’ eyes.

“To know
what prompted your earlier remark.”

“A slip of the tongue. Nothing more, I assure you.”

“But Horace, I am not assured.” Lucius said, his voice beneath the velvet delivery as hard and sharp as a double-edged sword. “You were within a hair’s breadth of insulting my sister, and that I will not allow. So, I ask you again, what do you know of Miss Devereux?”