The younger blonde woman lifted her face to acknowledge him, and he saw the barely contained laughter in her eyes.
“I am her cousin and companion, in fact,” she said, clearly enjoying the situation. Her expression was almost impish. “Poppy St. George.”
“A very appropriate name for a protector, Miss St. George.” He smiled at her as she extended her hand. He took it, pressed it briefly, and then placed it in Rosalind’s. “Let all men with unkind intentions be wary of you.”
Miss St. George looked very pleased at his unusual compliment, which distracted her from noticing when Adrian ran a finger along the inside of Rosalind’s gloved arm under the pretense of handing her over to Poppy. He didn’t want the girl to forget him, after all.
“Are you all right, Rose?” Poppy murmured, almost too low for Adrian to catch. “I’ve got your stick right here, whenever you want it.”
“I’m fine,” she replied, leaning into her friend with the easy intimacy of a sister.
“It was very kind of you to escort her back.” Mrs. Blake had found her voice at last, and she was quickly assessing the situation. “Girls, I think it’s time we returned home. Good evening, my lord.”
He watched with amusement as the mother hen herded her chicks away from his dangerous presence. He didn’t have to guess if Mrs. Blake had heard of him. From her expression of pure horror when she heard his name, it was obvious that his past was well known to her. He was actually surprised she hadn’t fainted on realizing that a rakehell like him had gotten within ten paces of her daughter.
That was why he’d left off his title when rescuing Rosalind on the dance floor, in fact. It was so obvious that Hynes was toying with her that he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by advertising the fact that he was Lord Norbury, a name known to all the gossips, and one that a young lady like Rosalind Blake should avoid.
But by the end, it was clear that Rose did not have any idea who or what he was. Adrian felt bad for kissing her. Wait, no. He didn’t feel bad about that. That part was a pleasure. The way she’d responded to him, and how she’d actually started a little hum in her throat that he could feel more than hear…well, he hadn’t been so tempted to continue his explorations in years.
However, Rose was clearly not his sort. She was an innocent girl who lived in another world. So he’d done the proper thing and returned her to the protective shield of the crowd, well before anyone could notice or comment on their brief departure from the ballroom.
After seeing Rosalind and her family leave, Adrian turned back toward the crowd, scanning the room for any trace of Hynes. There he was, dressed in black, like a bad omen. Adrian caught a poisonous look from the other man, who was standing with his friends in a corner, no doubt steaming over the fact that Adrian had disrupted their little game.
What an ass, Adrian thought. It was one thing to mock the conventions of polite society and make fun of the staid balls and events—Adrian did that all the time. But to deliberately humiliate a girl just because she couldn’t even see the trick that was coming…that was another thing entirely. It was downright cruel, and Adrian despised cruelty in all forms, considering it a sign of a warped and weak person.
Though Hynes was still glaring at him, Adrian dismissed the cad from his mind. With no more damsels to save, he left the party in search of more exciting diversions. He’d only attended as a favor to Lady Herbert, a longtime acquaintance who appreciated it when her parties had a little more flair than most, such as when a notorious rake dropped by.
But such parties were not his preferred pastime. Even now, he mentally sorted through the possibilities. In addition to the gaming hells and underground boxing matches that gentlemen could enjoy on any given night in London, Adrian also had a number of standing invitations to more private amusements. He thought of one, issued by a lady recently returned from the Continent. He’d had a torrid affair with her a few years ago. But he refrained from calling a carriage to take him to the lady’s home in town. He wasn’t in the mood for that.
He moved to the front hall and gestured for one of the footmen to call for his carriage. In the time while he was waiting for it to arrive, he chatted with a few more guests and bid the hostess good-night.
“You’re a dear to spend a few hours here,” Lady Herbert told him. “And don’t think I missed how you danced with Miss Blake, though I only caught a glimpse. She really is a darling, and you’ve done wonders for her caché, I’m sure.”
“I doubt Mrs. Blake feels that way, especially considering I was not an approved partner.”
“Oh, phew. People noticed, and that’s what matters. The worst thing that can happen to an unmarried woman is to be ignored.”
“The horror.”
“You wouldn’t understand, Lord Norbury. No one has ever ignored you.” She gave him an arch look, then pursed her lips in mock anger. “I suppose you’re off to some wild pursuit now. Gambling or racing or some ungentlemanly fun.”
“In fact, I’m going home. My mother leaves for Bath tomorrow and I’d hate to miss a moment of her company.”
“Scoundrel! Give her my best wishes. The city gets so dull at the end of the Season. All the interesting people leave for the country.”
“I’ll let her know she’ll be missed.” Just then, the footman returned, bowing as he announced the lord’s carriage was outside. “Good evening, Lady Herbert.”
While the carriage rattled along the streets, Adrian kept thinking of Rosalind Blake. What a strange succession of events brought them to that garden bench. They both had to be at the same party. She had to be asked to dance. Her partner had to be an utter cad. Adrian had to notice her from across the room, and trust his instinct that something wasn’t right…
“Arrived, sir,” the footman announced as he pulled the door open and dropped the little hinged step on the carriage.
That put a stop to his musings, and Adrian stepped out, breathing in the cool spring air as he looked up at his house.
The London home of the Lords Norbury (starting from the fifth viscount in 1690) stood in glorious isolation at the end of its street. Tall trees obscured the property from prying eyes. Adrian liked it that way.
His mother had already retired for the night, so Adrian told the lady’s maid that he would make a special effort to rise early in the morning before his mother left for Bath.
“She said you’d not even come home before dawn, sir,” the maid informed him.
