“Well, in that case, don’t tell her I’m here, and I’ll be a surprise.”
Adrian went up to his bedroom suite where his valet drew a bath and set out everything Adrian might need or want for bed. Sunk up to his chest in the piping-hot bath, he slowly sipped an excellent brandy and recalled the evening.
Well, one specific aspect of the evening. For some reason, his mind was still on Rosalind Blake. He’d noticed her only by accident. His attention had been caught by the sight of Hynes leading an unknown lady to the dance floor. From something in the pair’s attitudes, and the way the woman walked…Adrian couldn’t put a finger on it, but he didn’t like it.
That was what kept Adrian’s attention, for what was the odious Hynes doing with such a young woman? True, the lady was a picture, with a figure a nymph would be proud of, set off by the simple lines of the latest Continental-inspired fashion. Dark curls tumbled down around a heart-shaped face. Even across the room, Adrian could almost feel the weight of those curls in his hands, their silky texture between his fingers. Maybe Hynes was simply enjoying dancing with a pretty girl. But somehow, Adrian didn’t think so.
When the couple began to dance, Adrian saw the lady shiver, even from this distance. As if sensing a storm, he began to move toward the floor, not taking his eyes from the couple. Though he knew nothing of the woman, he knew about the man she danced with. That was more than enough.
And it turned out to be prescient, for Hynes’s intentions proved to be worse than Adrian guessed. Leaving a woman alone in a crowd of spinning, shifting strangers? What a despicable move.
So without a second thought, Adrian stepped in to save the girl. And he was glad he did, for Rosalind Blake was well worth saving, and an interesting companion.
Only after he had her in his arms did he realize the full truth, and the abysmal depth of Hynes’s trick. She was blind. Why the hell hadn’t anybody else noticed, and stepped in to help the moment she was left alone?
Well, Adrian could be a rescuer for a night. He’d taken her to the garden to give her a moment to compose herself, but it was very tempting to keep her there, to learn more about this new face. In the brief time they were together, he noticed the way she turned her head so that her ear was closest to him, allowing her to better hear his words. It had been some time since a woman expressed much interest in his words.
Though to be honest, he proved to be equally intrigued by her adorable mouth, the lower lip a little fuller, which was his favorite, since it provided such a lovely target to lick and tug at with his teeth, setting up that hum in her throat…
Damn. This woman had gotten under his skin. Good thing he returned her to her mother when he did! Adrian didn’t want this young woman’s ruin on his conscience.
* * * *
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Adrian woke up feeling a bit restless, called his valet, and flung on his favorite dressing robe, a slightly tattered garment of layered and quilted silk with dozens of mythical beasts embroidered all over the back and chest and sleeves. One of his first lovers gave it to him as a gift, and Adrian thought he might possibly choose to be buried in it.
Thus garbed, Adrian walked down the main stairs to the vast foyer of the house, tapping his fingers along the solid oak balustrade as he did so.
An older woman standing in the foyer turned to him, and in an acerbic tone said, “Is this a mirage before me, or did my wayward son actually wake before noon?”
“Before noon, and in my own house, no less.” Upon reaching her, Adrian gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You didn’t really think that I wouldn’t see you off, Mama?”
“Hmmph,” she said, but was clearly pleased. “Despite that ratty robe, you look well.”
“My one talent,” he responded dryly. Adrian was well aware that he was attractive, because he’d used that trait to get whatever he wanted out of life. He realized suddenly that Rosalind Blake couldn’t possibly be susceptible to his physical appearance. Perhaps if he were to encounter her again, he’d fail to impress her. What if she’d reconsidered the whole evening, and decided that Adrian was not a charming rescuer, but just another opportunistic man eager to get her alone in the dark?
“Are you even listening, Adrian?”
“Of course. What did you say?”
The dowager viscountess lifted her hands to the heavens. “Why do I even bother with such a recalcitrant youth?”
“It’s early,” he protested. “Tell me again.”
“I was saying, dear boy, that while I am gone, you might take some time to think about what we discussed before.”
“Before?”
“Marriage!” she told him in exasperation.
Lady Norbury (as she was still addressed) wore a gown of gray silk, accented with jet beads and lace. She’d never entirely given up mourning for her late husband, who passed away nearly a decade ago. She was still far from elderly, though her hair was now silvery-blond and her frame was a little more frail than he remembered as a child. His mother’s eyes were the same green as his, and they were as sharp as ever. Seeing them together, it was quite clear they were family. In fact, they were more or less the only family left in the Norbury line. This fact weighed heavily on his mother’s mind.
Adrian didn’t want to talk about this topic, and certainly not before breakfast. “Mama, this will come as a complete shock to you, I know. But I have no wish to bind myself for life to a woman that I have no interest in, nothing in common with, and who is merely using me for my title.”
“Oh, my boy, how can you be so sentimental? This is society. You must accept it. All your predecessors did.”
“And look at the joy in their faces.” He gestured to the gallery they stood in, generations of stiffly dressed aristocrats with stern expressions, and nary a smile among them.
“There are some very sweet young ladies out there. Just find one!”
