Michelle alighted the carriage and climbed the front steps. She opened the door with a sigh and pulled off her cream-colored kid gloves, setting them down on the table in the foyer.
She found her mother in the parlor as expected. “Good afternoon, Mother.”
Lady Helen Thomas sat on a blue settee. Her hair was just beginning to gray, hair that had once been as fiery-red as Michelle’s.
“Hello, dear.” She set down her needlework and favored her with a smile. “Did you have a nice visit with Lord and Lady Kanewood?”
“Oh, yes,” Michelle said. “The baby is adorable, Mother. He has the most beautiful green eyes and—”
“Was anyone else in attendance?”
Michelle arched a brow. Could she know about Lord Leed? “Anyone else? Such as?”
Lady Helen sighed in obvious irritation. “Any other gentlemen, dear,” she qualified.
Oh, that again. Michelle rolled her eyes. “Mother, why must I treat every social engagement as a quest to land a husband?”
“Now Michelle, when you were first out two Seasons past I had such high hopes for you.”
Her mother used a tone meant for speaking to a small child, and Michelle felt her back stiffen. “Mother—”
“But when you managed to turn away each and every suitor—”
“Mother, please!” Michelle placed her hands on her hips. “I refuse to spend time with a man simply because he is considered suitable.”
“Michelle, you’re too willful by half,” her mother said, not for the first time. “You’re twenty years old now, and should behave as such. I am quite certain if you did not insist on spouting your opinions—”
“Am I not permitted to have opinions!?”
Lady Helen let out a breath. “You may have opinions, dear,” she said. “You must simply learn to keep them to yourself.”
That was quite enough in Michelle’s opinion. She pulled in a breath and let it out in a rush. “I will not discuss this with you.” She turned to leave. “I’m going upstairs to ready for this evening.”
“Dress with care, dear,” her mother called to her, picking up her needlework. “There will most certainly be eligible men present.”
With an unladylike snort, Michelle began to climb the stairs.
“Too willful by half,” her mother offered in parting.
* * * *
Paul sat at the worn desk in his study, trying to concentrate on the papers spread on top of it. Since leaving Kane’s home that afternoon, Michelle Thomas too often intruded on his thoughts. She was as beautiful as he remembered. God, even more so. Her eyes with their flecks of gold, her full rose lips… His skin had felt tight, his body hard, as he’d stared at her. He was still drawn to her and it scared the hell out of him.
Shaking his head, he focused his attentions on the papers once more. He couldn’t make the ledgers balance, and the tallies were smaller each month. The landed estate that went with his title was tied up in such a way he couldn’t sell any of it to defray its expenses. As a result, the estate was a constant draw on his dwindling reserves.
His father was still alive and well, and Paul was grateful. But the Earl of Talbot appeared to be squandering what fortune the family had left. And with Paul’s two sisters to dower… He stacked the papers and laid them aside.
His butler, Starks, rapped on the open door. Paul looked up to find the proper servant standing ramrod stiff. He’d tried repeatedly to ease the young man’s demeanor, but to no avail. The servant remained as dour as the Earl of Kanewood’s butler Miles used to be.
“Yes, Starks,” he replied. “What is it?”
“Lord Chester to see you, My Lord.”
Paul knew a simple nod wouldn’t do, and if he didn’t word his request in precisely the correct manner, Starks would stand there until he did. Just who served whom? “Please show him in.”
Starks nodded and turned on his heel.
“Leed.” The Earl of Chester, blond-haired with merry brown eyes, strode into the study. “What have you been about this fine day?”
Paul stood up to grasp Chester’s hand. “Hello, Chester.”
“Stopped by Kane’s this afternoon.” Chester settled his big frame in the chair facing Paul’s desk and crossed his legs. “Thought you were paying a call there today.”
“I did.” Paul nodded and took his seat. “I didn’t stay overlong.”
Chester’s eyes sparkled. “I heard a certain red-haired young lady frightened you away.”
Paul leaned forward. “Chester, if you believe that had anything to do with Lady Michelle Thomas—”
“Ah ha!” Chester cut in. “Then what Rebecca said was true.”
Paul swallowed. “And just what did she say?”
Chester appeared to be giving the sleeve of his jacket at great deal of attention.
“Chester?”
“Oh,” Chester began at last. “Rebecca said the lovely lady rendered you speechless.” He looked at Paul and smiled. “A feat to be sure.”
“Never mind,” Paul grumbled.
“I remember the lady from Kanewood last year, Leed. Quite outspoken, no?”
“I’ve heard.” Paul recalled the time they’d nearly conversed on the state of the Royal Navy last year. He’d seen the interest in her eyes as the subject bounced about the parlor but she’d kept that lovely mouth of hers closed tight. “We didn’t speak much, however.”
Chester eyed the stack of ledgers and Paul knew better than to dismiss them to one of his closest friends. “Trouble?”
“No more than I’ve come to expect.”
Chester’s eyes narrowed. “You know, Leed. A woman of Lady Michelle’s status could be just what you need.”
Paul stiffened. “For a romp? Hardly.”
“You know precisely what I mean. Her father left her well off, it’s rumored. Why, with her as a wife—”
“Wife?” Paul waved a hand. “Chester, I can’t think of taking on a wife with my father’s… You know my situation.”
“Money, Leed. That’s the crux of the matter. She has it and you need it.”
“So I should sell myself, then?”
Chester leaned back. “Would it be such a sacrifice? She’s quite a picture.”
Paul thought of her again as he’d left her at Geoffrey and Rebecca’s. Michelle was more than a picture. She was a goddamn vision and more temptation than he’d ever encountered. But he wouldn’t be beholden to a rich wife.
“It won’t serve, Chester.”
Chester gave a nod. “Very well. Are you going to the Winslow bash this evening?”
Paul relaxed at the change of subject. “Yes. My sisters have been prattling on about it all week.”
“Catherine and Elizabeth will both be in attendance?” Chester rolled his eyes. “God help us all.”
Paul laughed. “Yes. The two of them are like butterflies, never standing still for a moment.”
“More like magpies, Leed.”
“They do tend to chatter on, don’t they?”
The gentlemen talked about the upcoming evening, wondering aloud over who would attend the Winslow ball. Paul prayed one lady in particular would be absent. It would be torture to see her twice in one day.
* * * *
Michelle stood in her chamber, at last ready for the evening. She regarded herself in the cheval mirror. Her curls were piled atop her head, twined with ribbons that matched her dark green gown.
The dress hugged her curves, accentuating her full breasts and slender waist. The bodice was daring for her, dipping lower than Michelle was accustomed to wearing. Her mother said her new gowns were suited to a girl of twenty well out of her first, and second, Season but Michelle wished to remedy the situation.
She crossed to her vanity and opened a wooden box resting on the polished surface. She withdrew a small brass key and opened the center drawer of the vanity. Inside were several velvet jewelers’ boxes. She opened one of dark gold and traced her fingers over the emerald necklace inside. She fastened the necklace behind her neck and turned once more to the mirror, admiring the small gems. They were arranged in a lacy pattern, falling to a V just below the hollow of her throat. Surely the stones would detract from her exposed bosom.
Now she was ready for the Winslow ball. She left her room and went downstairs to the waiting carriage.
Chapter 2
Paul attempted to follow the conversation going on around him at the Winslow Bash, focusing his attention on his sisters. Catherine, the older of the two, was dressed in a gown of pale blue satin. Elizabeth, one year younger at sixteen, wore light rose. They looked as finely tricked out as any other debutantes present, to his relief.
He nodded absently at something Elizabeth said, trying to keep his attention from Michelle Thomas and her crowd of eager suitors. He’d spotted her as soon as they’d arrived. How could he miss her? That red hair, that green dress. The men around her couldn’t take their eyes off her creamy bosom. How dare those young pups drool all over her! As if he wasn’t drooling over the girl himself. He’d never felt such an attraction, before or since meeting her last year. She certainly seemed at ease with the gentlemen. She stood in the center of the group, gazing up at them in simpering adoration.
“Paul, really.” Catherine fiddled with the strings of her purse. “Do not scowl so. You checked our appearance before we left the house. Pray, you haven’t found anything amiss after so short a ride?”
“Yes!” Elizabeth laughed. “We aren’t too daring or salacious, are we?”
“What? No, you’re both fine.” He gave them each a nod. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re merely humoring me.”
The girls wore innocent expressions, their identical eyes opened wide. Then both Talbot girls fell into laughter Chester shared and Paul ignored.
He glanced over at Michelle again. Lord almighty. Once more that bolt of electricity shot through him as it had earlier. His hungry gaze ran over her gorgeous form. The daring gown pleased him and his blood warmed as he imagined running his hands over the flawless skin it revealed.
“Paul, Lord Chester,” Catherine began. “Please escort us into the dance?”
“What?” Paul faced his sisters, finding their brows furrowed. “Of course.” God knew he could use the diversion. He held out his arm to Catherine and Chester escorted Elizabeth.
As Paul and Catherine neared the dance floor, couples worked their way through the complicated steps of a country dance. Only two couples were in motion at one time, giving the other participants time for reflection and conversation. With nearly ten couples participating, the dance could be expected to last a while. Paul could well imagine Catherine’s chatter during the whole of the number and resigned himself to a slight headache afterward.
Paul held Catherine’s gloved hand, leading her toward the line of dancers.
“Oh, it’s Miss Wallace!” Catherine squealed. “Paul, I simply must ask her for the latest gossip.”
With that, Catherine left Paul standing on the fringe of the group.
Michelle suffered the eager attentions of a young man whose sweaty palms she could feel through her satin gloves as he led her out onto the dance floor. She bumped into Lord Leed and froze. He stared down at her, then looked at the man clutching her fingers. The disdain on his face caused her skin to flash hot and cold.
She turned to her young escort. “Mr. Shimley, would you be so kind as to fetch me a glass of refreshment?”
“Y-yes, Lady Michelle.” His eyes aglow, he ran off to do her bidding.
She turned to walk away when Lord Leed cleared his throat. “Lady Michelle.”
He fairly growled her name, and there was no escaping his company now.
Lord save me.
She slowly brought her gaze up to his face. “Yes, Lord Leed?”
“Lady Michelle,” he said again, holding his large hand out to her. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”
She couldn’t speak as she lifted her hand to his. No sweaty palms here, just strong fingers grasping her hand as he led her out onto the floor.
The dance went on for a while, allowing time for Michelle’s nerves to steady. Earlier she’d spied him standing with the Earl of Chester, whom Michelle remembered from her visit to Kanewood. They were accompanied by two young ladies, each one prettier than the other. Lord Leed certainly seemed at ease in
their
company.
His smile, dazzling even from that distance, had caused her heart to seize. He wasn’t smiling now. He’d spotted her then, she knew. He’d turned his head toward her. His blue eyes had glittered as they ran over her, and her skin had flushed hot.
Yes, she’d seen the masculine interest clear in his eyes. He wasn’t so indifferent after all despite his curt nod of dismissal. It was just shy of a cut! Her skin had swiftly cooled then, and was chilled now.
He continued to say nothing to her as he expertly turned her about the room in the predetermined steps.
“You are supposed to engage me in some pleasant conversation, Lord Leed.” She watched him from beneath lowered lashes. “One would think you have nothing to say.”
He arched a dark brow at her and looked straight ahead once more. “What would you like to discuss, Lady Michelle?”
“The tuneful music, perhaps?” She stepped away and back again. “The excellent company in attendance?”
“Hmm,” was the only answer he made.
After a few more attempts to strike up a conversation she fell silent. She must have imagined the heat in his gaze. He was as cold as ice. When would this dance finally end?
At last the music ceased. She curtsied to Lord Leed and all but ran off of the dance floor. Let him wonder why she was in such a hurry. Bothersome man!
Following a light meal in the supper room, Michelle again found herself among young girls enjoying their first season out. Earlier she’d found herself surrounded by other females, each one prattling on about the handsome young men in attendance. Gentlemen had taken the girls away over the last half hour to twirl them about the room but not Michelle. It wasn’t that she was without suitors. She was simply discerning in doling out the favor of a dance and had no trouble rejecting a gentleman’s request. She should have rejected Lord Leed’s as it was obvious neither of them derived a bit of pleasure from the experience.
Now with three men vying for her attention at the moment, she could only nod and smile at their inane conversation as they studied her décolletage. The necklace she’d chosen apparently served as lure rather than distraction. She took a breath and held it. Why had she worn such a revealing dress?