His Dark Enchantress (Books We Love Regency Romance) (6 page)

“Nothing, I know nothing. I was merely repeating something I overheard.” Horace shook his head. “No, don’t ask me, for I do not know the gentlemen’s name.”

“Could you point him out to me?”

Lucius looked over the balcony to t
he press of people below. He gripped Horace’s arm and drew him firmly to the balustrade and waited as Horace scanned the ballroom. He deliberately kept up the pressure on his captive’s arm, knowing that Horace was fearful of the strength in the long fingers that held him.

“There!” Lucius looked in the direction that
Horace pointed. “The gentleman in the dark teal velvet evening coat who is talking to Lady Darnley.”

Horace heard Lucius’ sharp intake of breath, felt the already tight grip on his arm tighten more. There would be bruises tomorrow, he was sure. He glanced up at his captor’s face and was struck by the murderous expression he saw there. He tugged his arm, trying to release it. L
ucius exhaled slowly and turned to face Horace, his expression only marginally less savage.

“Thank you
, Horace. That wasn’t so difficult after all, was it?” Lucius released his grip and the unfortunate Horace scurried away.

Lucius returned his attention to Lady Darnley and her companion. Their heads wer
e close together, but it was obvious the man’s attention was on the crowd around him and not the lady with whom he conversed. He cast an idle glance upwards to the balconies overlooking the ballroom and, as his eyes locked with Lucius’, he smiled and waved a mocking salute.

Sir Peregrine Styles.

Lucius trembled with impotent fury. He knew the man well. Had once considered him a friend but now wished him to Jericho.

A tremor of alarm
took hold of him as he scanned the crowd below.. He spotted Juliana on the dance floor with Beamish but of Emmaline there was no sign.

Drat the girl. Where
had she gone? And in God’s name what did Peregrine Styles know of Emmaline, and how did he know it to have made such a comment?

Lucius
watched the crowds for a few seconds more, aware of his tightened features, and irritated at the reason for it. He quickly made his way down the wide staircase. When the music stopped he found himself accosted by Beamish and Juliana.

“Lucius, this is such fun.”
Excitement brightened Juliana’s eyes. Her exertions brought a glow to her cheeks. She snapped open her ivory veined fan and proceeded to employ it vigorously. “Are you not dancing?”

“It appears my partner-to-be has disappeared. Where is the
divine Miss Devereux?”

Blast it, when had he started to think of her that way?

Beamish, standing beside him, drew in a sharp breath. Lucius noted the gleam of perception in his friend’s eyes and wished this could have been one of Beamish’s more obtuse moments.

“Lucius, have a care!” Beamish hissed. “The tabbies’ tongues are wagging already without you giving Miss Devereux any kind of
sobriquet.”

“Noted, my friend.” Lucius
glanced at the people around him. “You are right, of course. I will endeavour to guard my tongue, but have you seen her?”

“We left her sitting on a sofa beneath that window.” Juliana pointed with her fan.

“Well, she’s not there now.” Lucius now scanned the ballroom. “Beamish, be a good fellow and take a walk around the room. Juliana and I will promenade in the opposite direction. Miss Devereux must still be here.”

“Perhaps she went for a
lemonade?” suggested Juliana, slipping her hand through her brother’s arm, her curiosity piqued by the grim expression on his face.

“I believe she would have asked Beamish to procure refreshment for her, as any lady would, rather than get it herself.”
His reply, in keeping with his expression, was curt.

As they reached the end of the ballroom
Lucius saw Miss Lassiter beside one of the columns supporting a balcony. She was in deep conversation with Emmaline and, from the animated expression on her face and the way she was using her hands, he had no doubt she was discussing some aspect of controlling a horse. His grip on Juliana’s arm tightened as he hurried her towards the two young ladies. Juliana looked up at him in surprise.

“Miss Devereux, Miss Lassiter.” He
bowed to them before releasing Juliana who surreptitiously rubbed her arm. “How are you enjoying the evening so far?”

“Very well, my Lord.” Miss Lassiter dropped a pretty curtsy. “It is not often one has the opportunity to discuss anything other than books and fashion, and I am bound to benefit from Miss Devereux’s
equestrienne experience. We are to ride tomorrow morning in Hyde Park. Will you care to join us?”

Emmaline blanched at the unexpected invitation.

“Oh, no, Miss Lassiter, I’m sure his Lordship has far more important things to do than accompany us,” she said.

A faint blush rose in
her cheeks under Lucius’ steady gaze. Pink would suit her, he thought.

“In keeping with my sister’s strictures that I be kind to you,” he said, “it would be most unkind of me to allow you to hire a hack when I have a perfectly suitable mount for you in my stables.”

Juliana frowned on hearing his comment. Had he been so close that he could have overheard her conversation with Lady Jersey? And if so, why had he not stepped in to defend himself?

“We shall all ride tomorrow morning,” Juliana declared. “A riding party will be just thing.”

Beamish arrived in time to hear the last part of Juliana’s comment. “A riding party? Not too early, I hope.”

Lucius caught his eye.

“Of course not,” he said. “But do be ready at ten o’clock.”

Beamish looked askance at what he considered far too early a start to his day, but
took Juliana’s hand and led her away to the dance floor once again.

Sir Richard arrived to claim Emmaline and, with no objection from Lucius and with Miss Lassiter already being led on to the floor, she could not refuse.

“You know, Lucius,” said Lady Jersey, coming to a halt beside him, “Mr. Beamish is very attentive to your sister. One would almost expect a declaration.”

“Declaration?”
Astonishment was clear in Lucius’ voice. “I think not. They have known each other since childhood. He is as much her brother as am I.”

“Oh, if only the blind could see,” mocked Lady Jersey, flashing a sparkling glance his way. “And I think you may be expected to partner
Olivia after all.”

Lucius turned to see Lady Darnley, resplendent in a midnight blue
satin gown, her daughter close by her side, advancing towards him. Olivia’s gown, in direct contrast to that of her mama’s, was a drift of soft blue muslin that clung unkindly to her immature frame. He swept them a bow in greeting and kissed Lady Darnley’s hand.

“If I may say so, Rosemary, you look
quite delightful this evening. As does Lady Olivia.” He bowed to her.

A furiously blushing
Olivia let out a little giggle.

“T-t-thank you, my Lord,” she stuttered, hiding her face behind her
fan.

“Come,
Olivia, there is no need to be shy with Lord Clifton,” admonished her mama. “We are old friends as you well know.”

Olivia
nodded but remained silent and avoided his eye.

Struck with a sudden thought, Lucius offered
her his hand. “Perhaps, Lady Olivia, if you are not already spoken for, you will join me for this next quadrille?”

“Oh, m-m-my Lord.”
Overcome with confusion Olivia continued to stutter. “I-I-I d-d-don’t d-dance t-that w-w-well.”

“I’m sure your mama has seen to it that you dance very well,” murmured Lucius.

“Only the best dancing master for my Olivia,” agreed Lady Darnley, pushing her unwilling daughter forward.

Lucius led the hapless
Olivia on to the dance floor. He shook his head slightly in response to the quizzical look he received from Beamish and shot a warning glance to Juliana as mischief gleamed in her eyes.

The music started and, in spite of Lady Darnley’s assurances that only the best dancing master had been procured for her, he quickly found that
Olivia did, indeed, not dance well.

Exasperated, he did his best to hold his tongue and temper and aided his young partner as best he could. At last the music ended and
Olivia made to bolt like a rabbit from the floor.

“
Lady Olivia, there is no hurry to return to your mama who is quite comfortable with the notion of us being dancing partners.” Lucius kept a light hand at her elbow. “Do you think me such an ogre that you must return to her so quickly?”

“Oh, n-no, m-my Lord,” exclaimed
Olivia. “Indeed, n-not. It is just that m-mama w-wants me to m-make an impression a-and I-I’m afraid I’m t-too s-stupid to impress anyone.”

“Nonsense, my child!” exclaimed Lucius,
disliking himself for what he was about to do. “As your mama quite rightly said, we are old friends, and as such I wonder perhaps if you can help me.”

“In what way, my Lord?”
Surprised at his request, Olivia’s stutter disappeared completely.

He looked down at her, noticing how
unexceptional a blue her eyes were in comparison to Emmaline’s, how pale her complexion. There was nothing robust in her character, no conviction in her voice.

Lucius smiled comfortingly and patted
Olivia’s hand. “I noticed your mama a little while ago talking to a gentleman. Who might he be?”

“Oh, that was my cousin, Peregrine,”
Olivia said dismissively. “He is the most f-frightful bore. All he can talk about is b-boxing and g-gaming and such, and – oh!” Her free hand flew to her cheek which was now crimson. “Oh, I d-do beg your pardon, my Lord! I would not w-want you to think I think you a b-bore f-for, as a g-gentleman yourself, those m-must be p-pastimes which you pursue!”

“Calm yourself,
Lady Olivia,” Lucius murmured although his mind was racing. How could it be that he had been unaware of a familial connection between Styles and Lady Darnley? “I assure you there are times when I find them exceedingly boring. But do tell me more about your cousin.”

Olivia
’s eyes grew round and she nodded her head in assent.

“It is
a complicated and not very close connection,” she confided. “We are not related by blood. Sir Peregrine is my papa’s nephew-in-law through my uncle’s second marriage. Mama and I do not see Peregrine very often.”

Having garnered the nugget of information that for now satisfied his curiosity, Lucius patted Olivia’s hand and returned her to her mama.

He bowed to Lady Darnley and made his way around the floor searching for Lady Jersey. When he saw her, he caught her eye and stopped. She casually made her way towards him.

“Very prettily done, Lucius,” she said. “Rosemary is positively glowing. The richest man in the room stood up with her daughter. She will not stop crowing about that, I can tell you.”

“And will likely croak when I escort Miss Devereux to the floor for the first waltz.”

“Oh, my!” Lady Jersey
’s right eyebrow twitched with mild alarm. “A little cruel, do you not think?”

“A means to an end, nothing more.”

“If you intend to play games, Lucius, be sure to have a trump card,” Lady Jersey warned.. “I think you have Rosemary half convinced that you are about to offer for Olivia.”

“She will be sadly mistaken.” Lucius clenched his jaw. “
When I marry my bride will be of my own choosing. Tell me quickly, what do you know of Rosemary’s nephew, Peregrine?”

Lady Jersey narrowed her fine eyes and gave him a calculating look.

“My advice is to stay away from him.
You know he is trouble and is only at Almack’s because of Rosemary. I regret already having allowed him vouchers and nearly had him turned away this evening for his inappropriate dress.”

“Do you know his direction?”

“No. And you, my friend, do not want to know it either.” Lady Jersey snapped her fan shut, fluttered her eyelashes at him and walked away.

Lucius
was joined by Juliana and Beamish with whom he made idle conversation, while his apprehension that Sir Richard had not yet returned Emmaline to her party grew.

Dammit
.

Had she totally bewitched him?

Beautiful, yes. Spirited, possibly too much. Mysterious, without a doubt. Enamoured of him? Not at all.

In fact, as he thought of her, he realized she gave every indication of wanting to avoid him. His glance, his touch, his conversation. And yet she could be kind. He had seen it in the way she had spoken to her old retainer. What was his name? Giles. Yes, Giles who had rheumatism and for whom Emmaline obviously cared.

“Lucius, are you day dreaming?” Juliana’s voice broke through his reverie. “
It will soon be time for the first waltz.”

Lucius gave himself a mental shake. “Merely wool gathering, my dear,” he said.