Quite a few monks in France, likely.
Her attention bounced around the ballroom in time to the lively quartet of stringed instruments, allowing her to take in the atmosphere without making a single observation.
Was this how enjoyment felt?
It might even be tempting the corners of her mouth into a ceilingward position.
Then her gaze snagged on a figure on the opposite end of the dancing floor—a broad set of shoulders, to be exact—and all beginnings of a smile fell decidedly in the past.
Mr. Deverill…
Here.
Of course, he was here.
Where wasn’t he these days?
And what a sight he presented, dressed in evening blacks cut to perfection across his form. Her gaze lifted and didn’t stop lifting until it reached…his mouth.
Oh, hismouth.
A mouth that belonged on a woman.
That the possessor was a man—thisman—well, it held a decided allure that she didn’t understand.
Of course, these qualities were the easily observable that anyone could see.
If she were to record him in her journal tonight, what could she write that society didn’t already know?
The rasp running alongside the deep timbre of his voice that held a soft note of Irish lilt… His scent of fresh pine and open sea that made one want to keep inhaling him… The spark within his eyes that spoke of intelligence and drive and something else, too—ruthlessness.
Society only thought it had dubbed him Lord Devil for his physical appearance, but it was that which sparked within those aquamarine depths that conjured the devil.
What more could she say that society didn’t yet know?
The strength of those muscles beneath superfine… The feel of his masculine, long-fingered hands… That when they held one in their grasp, one felt entirely secure.
One could like that feeling.
If one didn’t put it from her mind.
She was staring at his hands.
Her gaze shifted…
And found itself staring at his mouth—again.
She was just about to turn her attention to the opposite end of the room when she saw a lady approach him.
Lady Standish—an attractive widow of one year who had the reputation of pursuing her passions with,erm, great vigor.
Of course.
Of course, Lady Standish would try her luck with Lord Devil.
Thatlittle tidbit would most definitely be going into the journal tonight.
She averted her gaze. She didn’t need to watch to know how events would unfold.
