Chapter 13 #2
In a corner, he spotted Ian talking to a pretty young lady, so Jonathan made his way over. The woman had gone by the time Jonathan reached Ian.
“Can you believe we are at one of these disgusting things?” Ian remarked.
“I thought maybe you were shopping,” Jonathan teased. “How else are you going to find a wife?”
“Probably not here with all these protective mothers hovering about. However, I must say that young woman I was just with wasn’t too bad.
” Ian turned and looked at her across the room.
“But I’d prefer someone older who doesn’t giggle at everything I have to say.
Perhaps I should consider Elizabeth since you don’t want her. ”
Jonathan’s jaw tensed. “I’m supposed to find her a suitable husband,” he said.
“I take offense to that statement, ol’ friend,” Ian said, not meaning a word of it from the twinkle in his eyes. “I’m titled, wealthy, and single. I think I’m an excellent catch.”
‘‘And a rake,” Jonathan shot back. ‘‘I want someone who will take care of Elizabeth.”
“I could reform,” Ian suggested as he watched Elizabeth on the dance floor. “She really is beautiful,” he said in earnest. “Look at all the men watching her.”
“I’ve noticed,” Jonathan stated as he, too, watched Elizabeth. She was quite stunning.
Elizabeth danced with one gentleman after another.
So many, she couldn’t keep their names straight.
By the time she was led back to Tiffany, she was feeling a bit dizzy.
However, she wasn’t given time to catch her breath.
Jonathan seemed to appear out of nowhere. Without a word he took her by the arm.
“Shall we?”
Elizabeth just stared at him. “I’m sorry—you’re not on my dance card.”
“Perhaps you have overlooked my name,” Jonathan said as he led her to the dance floor and swept her into a waltz.
She couldn’t say anything, she was so stunned.
He had not paid her one bit of attention, and now she found herself in his arms. How long had it been since he’d held her? Too long, her mind screamed.
“This seems to be the only way I can talk to you,” Jonathan finally said. “Are you flirting with every man here, or are you simply choosing a future husband?”
Good. He was jealous. It took all Elizabeth’s will power not to smile. Maybe he had been paying attention, after all. “You know what they say about variety,” she said matter-of-factly. “I want to make sure I find the perfect mate.”
“Finding your mate, as you put it is supposed to be my job,” he responded sharply. “I’ve been checking, and I think Baron Sandys would do nicely. He doesn’t care for London and was a good father and husband to his last two wives.”
“Who are both dead,” Elizabeth pointed out. “And, he is a bit old, wouldn’t you say?”
“But stable and rich,” Jonathan returned. “Sometimes, you must have tradeoffs.”
“Perhaps you do, but I don’t.” She could feel her temper heating.
How dare he put her with any old coot just to get his job over and done with!
She looked around and realized they had waltzed into a corner and he was holding her far too close.
And, unfortunately for her, it felt wonderful, and was keeping her completely off balance.
She made the mistake of glancing up at him and their gazes met and locked.
And for a moment there was no outside world.
. .just the sizzle of the stare. No words.
.. only silent communication that made her feel numb all over.
She wanted to kiss him so much that it hurt, but if she did it would ruin all her efforts.
With great difficulty, she finally dragged her gaze away.
“I think you will have to do a better job of picking my future husband. Think young,” Elizabeth informed him. She glanced around. “I believe the music has stopped.”
Jonathan waited a few moments before he finally released her and said, “So it has.”
Elizabeth turned and made her way on wobbly knees over to where Tiffany was talking to a devilishly handsome gentleman dressed all in black except for a brilliant white cravat.
“Here she is now.” Tiffany held a glass of tepid lemonade out to Elizabeth who gratefully took it.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said and took a sip. It would be better if the lemonade was much stronger, she thought. Especially if she had to stay around Jonathan any longer.
Tiffany touched Elizabeth’s elbow. “I would like you to meet my good friend, Beau Brummell. Remember, I told you about him.”
Elizabeth stared at one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen. He was almost too perfect. Dressed in black, his waistcoat was blood red and his cravat snow-white.
“Such a beautiful lady,” Beau commented as he took Elizabeth’s hand and made a production of placing a kiss upon it. He definitely had an aura of smooth sophistication. “Why have I not met you before today?”
Elizabeth actually felt herself blush at his compliment. She felt like one of the giggling debutantes. When she glanced around the room, she could see people were actually staring. Especially Jonathan. Good. Let the devil stare!
“I’ve been away,” she finally said, fanning her flushed face.
Tiffany beamed all over. “See?” she whispered behind her fan. “I told you he was charming, and I’ve informed him of our plans. He’s willing to help us.”
“Are you sure?” Elizabeth looked at Beau.
“Fair lady, these parties can be much too dull. I look at this little adventure as a diversion from doldrums,” he said, then lowered his voice. “Look, here comes our prey now.”
Jonathan approached with David Byron at his heels and stopped at their little group. “Brummell,” Jonathan said, nodding.
“Longdale, London has been quiet since you’ve been gone,” Beau teased Jonathan.
“I doubt that. I left the city in Ian’s and your capable hands. I wager between the two of you that you could keep the city in quite a stir,” Jonathan said, his gaze traveling over Beau, taking in his perfectly tailored black jacket “I see that you are still setting the style, and quite nicely.”
“Compliments from my peer. Thank you,” Beau said with a bow.
“Elizabeth,” Jonathan said, turning to her. “I would like you to meet David Byron.”
Elizabeth extended her hand, thinking Jonathan could, at least find somebody younger. This man wasn’t as old as Baron Sandys, but neither was he a spring chicken.
“Would you care to dance?” David asked politely.
“Sorry, my lord, but Elizabeth just promised this one to me,” Beau said as he took Elizabeth’s elbow and swept her past the little group and onto the dance floor.
Elizabeth giggled. “I cannot believe you did that.”
“My dear, where I’m concerned you should believe everything.” Beau held her at a proper distance. “As they say, anything for a lark.”
He was a marvelous dancer, Elizabeth thought as he whirled her around the ballroom floor. “Well, thank you for helping. I’m certain I’ll hear about this all the way home.”
“No doubt.” Beau grinned, then added, “By Jove! I know how we might really rub salt into the wound. I’ll come tomorrow to take you for a ride in Hyde Park.”
Elizabeth nodded. “That would be splendid.”
Jonathan glared at Elizabeth. What in the hell was she doing with Beau Brummell? He wasn’t marriage material, even though many young ladies fancied him. He was certainly not suitable for Elizabeth.
Jonathan was going to choose a husband for her, by God, if it killed them both in the process.
He frowned.
Elizabeth Trent would have to learn to obey.