He flashed a distracted smile and hurried into the building.
Assembly rooms were battlefields Reuben normally attempted to avoid. Too full of the nubile marriageable types he did his best to stay far away from. For their sake, not Reuben’s. As his uncle always said, Reuben was a good-for-nothing wastrel who would never amount to anything. Eligible women were only interested in him because he was heir presumptive to the viscountcy.
Not that that would last for long, either. Oldfield was here to find a bride. As soon as there were two or three tots in direct line to the title, Reuben would have nothing at all to offer a lady of quality.
His rakish exterior was nothing more than decorative candles and cut flowers. No matter how pretty they were today, they’d be wilted and falling apart within a week. He was flash and smoke, with no substance. A firework on a dark night. Thrilling to interact with for a brief moment, but not something you’d want to clutch in your hands or hug tight.
Reuben would know. Everyone he’d ever loved had left him or died. He was determined not to make ties or allow anyone close enough to hurt him. Again. Even his one-time guardian and last remaining uncle could not be bothered to pretend affection. Lucifur’s tail wrapping around Reuben’s ankle was the closest he ever came to receiving a friendly embrace.
That was why it was so much safer to stay in the box he’d created for himself. He was a lump of sugar in a cup of tea. He brought pleasure in the moment and then disappeared forever. And even then, he was only palatable while the cup was still hot. If tea sat there in front of you for too long, it lost its appeal and you’d throw it away.
The sweet spot was to dash in, delight each other, and dash out, before the passion cooled and her interest was gone forever. To please her, while he could.
Which meant the time to reunite with Lady Dawn was now or never.
As he scanned the teeming crowd in search of her, his gaze lit upon a different familiar face: Mr. Alsop. Perfect! Mr. Alsop would know who she was. Lady Dawn had mentioned him by name. In fact, that was a clue to her identity in and of itself. Any woman who scheduled appointments with her lovers starting at the ungodly hour of ten a.m. could only belong to one profession.
Lady Dawn was a courtesan.
The realization did not bother Reuben in the least. He had never needed to pay for female attention before, but he was happy to make an exception in this case, if it meant finally making love to Lady Dawn. Just once, to get it out of his system.
He edged his way through the crowd to Mr. Alsop. “Alsop, my boy, how do you do? I’m looking for a woman.”
Alsop snorted. “When are you not?”
“Ha ha, so witty. In this case, she’s an acquaintance of yours. I’m hoping you can point me in the right direction.”
“What’s her name?”
“That’s the thing. She failed to give it.”
“One of your many nameless lovers, I presume?”
“Not yet. That’s what I’m hoping to remedy. She’s absolutely gorgeous… I think. Her hair is brown… or red… or gray. Somewhere between blond and black. She was white…ish. Possibly tan, I couldn’t really tell. Voluptuous, yes. Truly a marvelous bosom, though I’d wager she can’t weigh more than… Short! She’s very short. I’d be shocked if she came up to your nipples.”
“Now, see here.” Mr. Alsop’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of game is this?”
“Game?”
“Hair you can’t recall if its brown or red or gray? Abominably short of stature? You’re after a nondescript woman the size of a troll. We both know I know exactly who you’re talking about, and I won’t have you interfering with my plans.”
“No, no,” Reuben said earnestly. “I’m very clear on your schedule, and won’t be interrupting your bit at all, I promise.”
Alsop frowned. “Then what can you want with my fiancée?”
Ice frosted Reuben’s veins.
“With your… What was that?” he managed faintly.
Alsop gestured across the room toward a wall of wallflowers whose presence Reuben hadn’t even registered.
There, in the middle of their midst, was Lady Dawn. As it turned out, there’d been enough starlight to recognize her heart-shaped face after all. Or maybe it was the complete disarray of her chestnut hair, thanks to Reuben’s hands. Lady Dawn was not looking his way, but rather was deep in conversation with some tall blond chit holding a plate piled with cakes.
It made no sense whatsoever.
“Your… fiancée?” Reuben repeated blankly.
“Our betrothal isn’t official yet,” Alsop admitted. “A few hours ago, she gave me permission to call upon her father in the morning. I’ll sign the marriage contract then. I’d rather wed the sister, but I can’t turn down that dowry.”
