And, like any other wandering soul that came too near a siren, he went to her, his feet carrying him out on to the dance floor before his mind could register the risk. She was even more beautiful up close than she had been from a distance. Her movements were rhythmic, sensuous, and all too familiar.
Of course they were. He was not some innocent who could not spot seduction when it was within an arm’s reach of him. Why was she alone? More importantly, why would she not leave him alone? She seemed to have eyes only for him. She’d paid not a bit of attention to the people around her, laughing and darting away from those that sought to catch her.
But to him, she held out one long, bare arm, beckoning.
One dance. Just one. He would discover her identity. And then, club be damned, he would go home to his wife. He reached her side and her arm snaked about his throat and she danced about him, bobbing and dipping in a sinuous imitation of a minuet.
He matched her step for step, wary, but fascinated. They moved well together, as familiar as old lovers. Had he been with her before? It was not Caroline this time, he was sure. She was as dark as this woman was fair.
But her identity should not matter to him. Without even knowing the depths of his weakness, Georgiana had absolved him of his mistake on this very dance floor. In turn, he had promised her that his attendance here would be no risk to their happiness. And yet, he was failing her at the first test of his loyalty.
Without another thought, he released her hand, bowed briefly, and turned to leave her.
Before he could escape, she was in front of him again, intoxicatingly close, her hand on his cheek, her body moving against his. His blood rushed in response to the familiarity of that touch. He knew her. He had loved her, he was sure.
He did love her.
As the song ended, he reached up and snatched the mask from her face, mortified by the truth.
‘Surprise!’ She could see by the shock on his face that, for a while at least, she had fooled him. A part of her wanted to be angry that he would be so quick to succumb to the charms of a strange woman. But since that strange woman had been her all along, it was hardly fair.
In truth, she’d watched him for nearly an hour and seen no sign that he had come to the place to bed another. He had been sociable but businesslike in his dealings with everyone else.
It was only when he had seen her that he had fallen. Proof that he was attracted to her, not because they were married, but because he found her desirable.
But now, he was staring at her as if he did not know her at all. The look he was giving her was every bit as cold as the ones he used to impale her with, when he had refused to acknowledge her. Then he grabbed her by the arm and walked towards the door of the private suite.
‘You are making a scene,’ she murmured through clenched teeth as he hauled her by the arm from the dance floor.
‘I am making a scene?I am making a scene?’
‘You are,’ she repeated.
‘You cavort like some Cyprian in front of everyone in the room. And when I put a stop to it, I am the problem.’ He gave an amazed shake of his head.
‘Cavorting?’ She yanked free of his grasp. ‘I was dancing, Frederick.Wewere dancing.’
‘Dancing is only the beginning,’ he reminded her. And that made him sound less like a sensible man than a Puritan.
‘The beginning of what?’ she said.
‘You know precisely the sort of things that go on here. You questioned Westmoor about them at the ball.’ Now he was looking at her with disgust, as though she had even understood what she’d been asking before he’d enlightened her to the ways of love.
‘I meant nothing by it,’ she insisted, offering a gentle touch to his sleeve.
Now it was his turn to jerk his arm away. ‘That was what my brother’s wife claimed, when I danced with her, here. And to think what might have happened, had I not seen behind the mask…’
‘Caroline?’ If he was hinting at what she thought, it explained so much. ‘I am nothing like her.’
‘You are becoming more like her every day,’ he said roughly. ‘It is why you are no longer allowed in London and why I do not allow you here. Perhaps my brother does not care that his wife is a whore. Perhaps my father does not mind that half the children are not his. But I will not condone such behaviour from my own wife.’
‘I would never…’ she said, unsure whether to be angry or hurt.
‘You are right,’ he said. ‘You never will. Because you are going home.’ Then he stalked to the bell pull to summon Ben to remove her.
‘Alone?’ she said, suddenly just as angry.
‘I have business here,’ he said.
