Chapter One #2
She felt butterflies fluttering in the depths of her belly, and a touch of dizziness swept through her as she watched him approach.
She wanted to run, but her spine stiffened, and her feet refused to move.
When he arrived, or rather swept in like a raven bent on possessing a shiny object, her gaze met his extraordinary eyes, the color of sea foam churning on a sandy shore.
He bowed deeply, and her breath audibly escaped.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she did her best to appear unaffected by his ardent attention.
“I realize we have not been formally introduced, but I would like to present myself to you. I am Julian Aryll Kingsley, at your service.”
The man exudes daring confidence. One simply does not approach a lady without a proper introduction.
Lacy stared at him, unable to find the proper response. She’d vaguely heard of the Kingsley family and its lion-fisted Earl of Wentworth, Alfred Paisley Kingsley. She assumed the man before her was his son. She could feel all eyes on her, and it made her even more flustered.
Her aunt intervened, erasing whatever discomfort she might feel from Julian’s bold approach. “Why, your lordship, how kind of you to attend us. May I introduce you to my niece, Lady Cecelia Beaufort?”
The scoundrel’s eyes locked with Lacy’s, and he pressed his lips to her hand. “It is with great pleasure that I make your acquaintance, Cecelia. I hope you will not find it presumptuous of me to ask you to dance. With your permission, of course, Countess.”
Antoinette graciously nodded. “I see no harm in it. I’m sure Cecelia will be honored.”
No, no, no! Lacy’s gloved hand trembled beneath the fullness of his kiss on her hand and his eyes, which held hers as if she belonged to him. His commanding presence awakened a feeling she was not certain how to process. Unseemly thoughts pressed upon her.
It’s all those damn books you read about romantic encounters.
What would it feel like if his tantalizing lips traced kisses up her arm to her neck? The ridiculous notion bloomed into an insurmountable warmth, stirring her imagination to all manner of sinful images. Images that any modest young woman would not rightly conjure.
What is wrong with you, Lacy?
“I-I… Yes, of course, I’d be delighted.”
What nonsense. His voice, his eyes, his demeanor!
Everything about the man was hypnotic, and she felt herself inexorably drawn to his allure.
Keep your head and avoid embarrassing yourself. It’s only a dance. The rake will surely move on to greener pastures.
“Countess.” Julian nodded to Antoinette respectfully and took Lacy’s hand in his, leading her onto the dance floor.
Lacy glanced at the faces around them and was struck by the jealous looks of the young women they passed.
She could only surmise that Julian had his pick of the ladies, and his attention to her would destroy any possibility of her making friends among the scornful faces that critically appraised her from head to toe.
This was not what she’d expected nor wanted to happen from her appearance at the ball.
To make matters worse, Julian took her into his arms, holding her as close as Polite Society would allow.
It was daring and provocative and could not help but bring censure.
Aside from her discomfort of every eye being on her, the warmth from his touch sent traitorous ripples of pleasure through her body.
The curve of his lips formed a hungry smile that made her knees quiver, but the strength of his arms somehow held her aloft.
The orchestra dove into a waltz, and, holding her firmly by the waist, he swept her around the floor, making the room spin. He danced assuredly, circling her around the ballroom so quickly she was forced to focus on his face so as not to grow dizzy.
“How is it that I have never seen you before?” His warm breath tickled her ear enticingly as they swept past some slower dancers whose faces were nothing more than a blur.
“I’ve not been in London for some time. My mother was taken from us last year, and my family has been in mourning.”
For a second, compassion filled his eyes—and then faded so quickly she wasn’t sure she’d read him correctly. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, but I am grateful that you have decided to grace us with your presence. You dance divinely, I might add.”
“That’s very kind of you to say.” Lacy was flustered by his attention, and it annoyed her.
She wanted to tell him exactly what she was feeling.
Her attraction to him felt dangerous. She wanted to tell him the truth, that she would rather be anywhere but here in the arms of a man she didn’t know.
Her confusion about why those same arms felt perfectly wonderful stemmed from her inexperience, and it bothered her.
Her father’s melancholia after her mother’s death had forced Lacy to take control of her life and the lives of her sisters, and somehow, this man, by his mere presence, had reduced her to helplessness.
He enthralled her, and in the blink of an eye, she’d gone from wishing she was anywhere but here to never wanting this dance to end.
What did it matter, though? She would probably never see him again, after tonight.
“I’m not kind. If anything, I am brutally honest. I’m dancing with you because you caught my interest, and there isn’t a woman in this room who compares to you.”
Lacy was thunderstruck by his words, and her mouth gaped open for a moment before she collected herself. “Am I to be complimented by your confession?” Finally, her backbone and confident nature began to take hold, and her clever retort invigorated her.
He chuckled. “It’s more of a warning. Compliments are easily dealt out and rarely given without the expectation of a return on investment.”
His comment struck her as callous. She did not believe love was a commodity to be bought and sold. Anger rose up the column of her neck, inflaming her cheeks. “My affections are not so easily earned. You should expect no return!”
“Most ladies on the hunt for a husband would be considering the potential for courtship. Are you any different?”
“I am different, indeed. I hope you are not suggesting that I am so shallow that I would be swayed by a smattering of honey-coated intercourse?” Lacy realized too late her misspeak and felt her cheeks flame.
Oh, dear Lord, did I just say that? It was an innocent remark born from her vexation, but the sexual connotation rang like a bell.
Lacy, think before you speak. You are treading in dangerous waters.
He is a master of discourse and probably a scoundrel to boot.
Julian’s brows rose before he burst into laughter. “I say, you are a surprise, indeed.”
Lacy did her best to reflect her innocence of the innuendo. “Whatever do you mean?”
He contemplated her face. “I think you know exactly what I mean. You know, you don’t look like a Cecelia.”
Now it was her turn to chuckle. “Pray tell, what do I look like?” She would be loath to admit it, but Julian possessed a certain charm.
There was something dangerous yet appealing about him.
Like the heroes in the novels she adored, he was more complicated than she had at first assumed.
She could well understand why every woman in the room eyed him covetously.
“I don’t know, maybe a Delilah.”
“Ah, the biblical temptress that felled Samson. I’m afraid your imagination has run away with your judgment. I may be many things, but a temptress I am not, nor do I wish to be. My family and friends call me Lacy.”
“That fits you much better. I will call you Lacy, too.”
“I did not give you permission to address me familiarly.” Her brows knitted together disapprovingly.
“Not that I give a farthing, but tell me how I might gain your permission?”
“I am not sure I will ever give you permission after you smugly assumed I would.” How dare he take such liberties?
His arched brow bore his amusement. “I think we’d best address the elephant in the room.”
“The prince regent?” What is wrong with you, Lacy? Now you’ve really put your foot in it.
He laughed wholeheartedly. “You do have quite a sense of humor.” He leaned in, and his breath warmly caressed her ear. “I’d be cautious, though. Prinny doesn’t take well to any derogatory pokes at his growing girth.”
“I would never be so unkind as to have him hear me say such a thing. I trust your tongue doesn’t wag in the gossipy circles.
” It was a clever repartee on her part, and she could see Julian’s approval in his eyes as he continued to study her.
“What elephant were you referring to?” She glanced around the ballroom. “I see no elephants.”
“Your ‘intercourse’ remark is quite the elephant in the room. A lesser man might be stirred to assume you subconsciously, at the very least, are open to his advances.”
“You are presumptuous. I most assuredly am not.” His hand tightened on her waist possessively.
“We shall see.” The strains of music were ebbing when a distinguished man cut in rudely, interrupting their dance.
“Excuse me, Julian, but I would like to have the next dance with this charming young lady.”
“Father? I do not think—”
Lacy looked from one man to the other and perceived an undercurrent of tension. “Uh…of course, your lordship. I would be delighted.” She smiled at Julian. “A son should always acquiesce to the wishes of his father.”
“Beautiful and sensible—a rare combination in the ton. Don’t worry, son, I won’t steal your sport. I’m sure the young lady is more discerning than to encourage attention from an elder statesman. Indulge me, if you will.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lacy felt a chill. Sport? How insulting. Something is awry. This might well not be a friendly encounter.
Julian gave his father a stiff nod and turned to address her.
“I enjoyed our dance and look forward to resuming our conversation soon, Lady Beaufort,” he said with a polite bow.
Taking his leave, he strode to the edge of the dance floor, where he stood, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at his father.
Lacy had only a moment to contemplate what had transpired. The earl cleared his throat and commanded her attention.
The orchestra began a quadrille, and the dancers lined up.
The opening steps were performed in a line with the men on one side and the women on the other.
When the dance reached the tour de deux mains, and the earl turned her, holding both of her hands, Lacy heard the earl whisper in her ear, “I congratulate my son on his good taste. However, I’m afraid I must extinguish any hopes you might have of this blossoming into a courtship. ”
The earl spun her around and returned her to the line of ladies, and he returned to the line of gentlemen.
She was in shock at the earl’s presumption, but she smiled and bore the insult.
At last, her chance came to reply as the dance brought her closer to him.
“I am not interested in your son. However, I am curious as to your disapproval and why you find it necessary to broach this unwarranted subject with me here at this time and place?”
“I will leave it to your aunt to explain. It is requisite that I nip this in the bud before it goes too far. I will only say there is bad blood between our families. Stay away from my son, and all will be well. I will never condone a marriage between you, so I caution you to remember there is no future for you with my son. He is headstrong and has many dalliances, but I have great confidence in his abilities. He will eventually find a suitable wife. Find a man better suited to you. I reiterate, it will not be Julian.”
“It will be my pleasure to heed your warning. I might add you are a very distasteful person, and if your son is anything like you, all the jewels in the world wouldn’t tempt me to tie myself to him. Good evening, my lord.”
The earl bowed, dismissing her.
Lacy, on trembling legs, left the dance floor. She knew her abrupt departure would set tongues wagging. “Auntie, I am not feeling well. Please, I beg of you, let us leave at once.”
“My darling, what is wrong?”
“I will tell you in the carriage, but we must leave now.”
She could see Julian and his father in a heated exchange across the dance floor. Julian angrily poked his finger into his father’s chest as if making a point. Lacy could hear his father’s angry, raised voice even across the room. “Never! I will never allow it!”
Lacy was mortified. She could see those nearest the arguing men beginning to lean in and whisper to each other. “Please, we must depart now.” Her voice was trembling on the brink of humiliation as all eyes turned to her.
“Of course,” Antoinette replied, shaking her head in bewilderment.
Before Lacy turned away, she stole one more glance across the room.
Julian’s father was gripping his arm, as though trying to restrain him.
There was fire in Julian’s eyes. And he looked as though he wanted to knock his father to the floor.
The whispers had grown louder, and, fearing people would name her as the reason father and son were arguing, she turned and fled the ballroom, with her aunt trailing behind.