Chapter Three
Selena marched back into the ballroom, her head held high.
Her bosom might be red as a crushed cherry from the mostly futile attempt to remove every last tracing of icing sugar from her skin, but her dress, at least, was mostly intact.
The dessert had kept its sticky fingers to the inside of her gown, so the outside was still presentable.
“I suppose I needn’t wonder how many people saw that little spectacle,” she muttered to Jane as they fully reentered the room. Every eye turned toward them, most widened in scandalized interest. More than a few fans hid the titters and murmured words of the amused throngs.
“Ignore them, my dear,” Lady Persing said. “They are not worth your time. If you will excuse me, I must wake my dear husband before his snoring brings down the rafters,” she said, giving Selena a supportive smile before moving off toward Lord Persing.
“Lady Persing is correct. Words can only hurt you if you let them,” Jane murmured, glaring at the nearest pair of gossiping debutantes.
“That is depressingly untrue, my dear Jane, or I would still be in Paris.”
Jane’s brow furrowed at the mention of the setting of Selena’s first disastrous marriage—and the reason for her abrupt departure from that city. But she couldn’t respond further as Lord Lockhaven had caught sight of them.
Selena took a deep breath and tried to let it out as unobtrusively as possible.
He was a handsome rogue, if the twinkle in those warm brown eyes meant anything.
What on earth was she to do about him? She hadn’t expected him to be still waiting for her to emerge.
In fact, she’d purposely taken longer than necessary to ensure his departure.
Most men’s attentions waned quickly, and there were certainly more than a few women at this ball waiting for his notice.
“Perhaps we should have made our escape out the back entrance,” she whispered to Jane behind her fan.
“Nonsense,” Jane whispered back. “You came to enjoy yourself. So, go enjoy!”
Before she could get another word in edgewise, Lord Lockhaven came to a stop before them and bowed his head.
“I am glad to see that my clumsiness didn’t cause too much damage,” he said, his eyes lingering on her neckline.
A thrill skittered down her spine, and Selena clenched her fist around her fan handle.
She wasn’t quite sure what it was about him.
He was handsome, yes. But she had been around handsome men before.
Her husbands had been handsome, all. But none had wrought such a response in her.
Was it the wicked gleam in his eyes when he looked at her?
The crooked tilt of his lips when he smiled, as if he held a tantalizing secret he would share only with her?
The confidence that bordered on arrogance in his demeanor that lent such a swagger to his step that her knees became weak?
Or was it the heat that filled his gaze when their eyes met? A heat that promised a pleasure she had only ever had a taste of before.
Her mouth suddenly parched, Selena swallowed with difficulty and snapped her fan open, hoping a bit of cool breeze would cool her thoughts. His mouth pulled into that slight grin again, and she sucked in a sharp breath she prayed he had not heard.
Perhaps Jane was right. A little discreet amusement might not be amiss.
A few years ago, she would have used that fan to remind him where his eyes should be.
She would not have stood there, letting him look his fill with hardly a peep.
She certainly would not have taken a perhaps slightly deeper than necessary breath in order to ensure his view was… adequate.
A realization that had her flushing until her eyes watered and hoping no one else had noticed her brief foray into wantonness.
“Not at all, my lord. I have been assured the dress is salvageable.” Her pride was an altogether different matter, but she was well accustomed to holding her head high despite her circumstances. Which were often dire. And ridiculous.
“Excellent news.” He held out his hand as the band began the opening notes of a quadrille.
At least it wasn’t a waltz. Had it been that, she might have lingered in the dressing room longer.
Or taken advantage of the back door. A dance was one thing.
But the waltz was so intimate. Scandalous.
And dangerous. A waltz had been the main cause of her third marriage.
Though even a quadrille was dangerous enough.
It afforded far too many opportunities for conversation than some of the other dances.
She shut down that thought and slipped her hand into that of the waiting lord, scolding herself for her thoughts.
It was a dance, not a marriage proposal.
She might be a magnet for matrimony but surely even she could get through one dance without becoming betrothed.
Again. Though, the way her hand tingled at his touch, even through the layers of their gloves, didn’t bode well.
“How long have you been back on our shores?” he asked, his warm smile catching her off guard as they joined the other couple in their set to begin the dance. “I don’t believe I have seen you this Season. Or prior to that, come to think of it.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. I spent my childhood in Wales. And have been abroad most of the years since. I’ve only recently arrived in London.”
She smiled as she crossed the square made by the dancers, hoping the expression covered the fact that her answer was only mostly truthful.
She’d been back from the Continent for quite some time.
But as she had no wish to discuss her time in Scotland as it would inevitably lead to discussion of her fourth husband, Charles, and possibly to the subject of her other husbands—or at the very least, thoughts of them, which would always be too painful—she saw no harm in a little interpretation of his question.
One that would allow her to answer him—to do otherwise would be churlish and suspicious—yet remain sufficiently vague enough to protect her past.
“Months?” he asked as they came back together. “And I’m only now making your acquaintance?”
She cocked her head. “I was unaware you were in the habit of making the acquaintance of everyone in London, my lord. And upon their immediate arrival, no less.”
He chuckled but the steps of the dance spun them away from each other for a few moments. When they faced each other again, he said, “Everyone, no. But I am acquainted with a fair many.”
His flirtatious grin set her heart to fluttering.
“And I would have been foolhardy indeed not to make the acquaintance of such an intriguing woman as you,” he murmured when the steps brought them close enough for him to lean down so she alone would hear him.
She flushed again, glad the steps of the dance took her away from him for a moment.
Not that she wasn’t enjoying his company.
She was. Quite a bit more than expected.
Or was wise. Aside from the blatant flattery he insisted on heaping upon her—and to be truthful, she didn’t hate that as much as she should—he seemed a jolly sort.
His ready smiles and shameless flirting amused her.
And it had been a good long while since anyone had amused her so.
“You seem the type to find most women intriguing,” she said, his playfulness making her bold.
“Some more than others,” he answered, his smile drawing another one from her.
“Perhaps you have seen me and were too distracted by the others to notice.”
“Oh no, I am certain had I seen you before, everyone else would have disappeared, as they have this evening.”
She raised an eyebrow at that. “A woman could drown under such flattery, my lord. Are you always so…profuse?”
He chuckled. “Not always, no.”
“Well, that is good to hear. I would fear for your health if you exerted yourself so copiously as a habit.”
They spun away again, and Selena took the opportunity to gather herself. This interaction was bringing her far too much enjoyment. Danger lay behind those dancing eyes of his. Danger for her heart…and his life.
She was cursed in love. Fate had proven that to be true every time she’d taken that leap of faith into the promise of love. She’d do well to remember that.
“Tell me, truly,” he said as they clasped hands and spun together. “I know you are widowed, if you’ll forgive me mentioning it. But you are still young, and out of mourning.” His eyes took in her attire with an interested twinkle. “Why haven’t I seen you until this evening?”
His deep voice sent a delightful shiver through her.
“You are very forward, my lord. Shockingly so.”
“It is a failing, I’m afraid.” He flashed her mischievous grin. “One I rather like.”
She bit her lip to keep from smiling. She rather liked it too.
“I tend to keep to myself,” she murmured, trying to answer without answering. “I’ve seen little reason to venture out too often of late.”
“Well,” he said with another roguish smile, “I shall endeavor to give you a reason and entice you from hiding. There are far too many pleasures to be had to spend your days secluded.”
Yes. There were. And it was those very pleasures of which she was afeared.
Even so, she found herself smiling more and more as the dance progressed.
And she wasn’t the only one over whom Lord Lockhaven had cast his spell.
He’d put their dance partners so at ease that the four of them twirled and weaved and clasped hands with much merriment, despite her being a stranger.
One of which they hadn’t been sure when she had initially joined them.