Coming back to the present, Chastity suddenly realised that the reel had finished, and guests were busy regrouping for the waltz. To her horror, she spied Viscount Trebworthy heading determinedly her way. Damn and blast, she’d been rumbled. Wildly, she glanced about, abruptly taking note of a tall, dark-haired gentleman leaning nonchalantly against the wall to her left. He was alone and sipping on a glass of punch. From her angle, she was unable to see his face, but truthfully, as long as his breath didn’t smell like the bottom of a cesspool, she could survive facing him for ten minutes.
But she only had mere seconds to convince the stranger to dance with her. Without giving herself any time to reconsider, Chastity jumped to her feet and tapped the man on his shoulder. As soon as he turned his head and directed his icy-blue eyes towards her, she entirely lost the use of her tongue. Dear God, the man was an Adonis. Albeit one with raven black hair.
Far, far too late, she wondered what a man of such exceptional looks was doing propping up a wall at the back of a ballroom. Alone. His expression gave her an immediate answer. It was one of disdainful boredom, but his eyes, oh his eyes. They were the colour of winter. And so cold that she took an involuntary step back. What the devil had she been thinking, attracting the attention of such a mysterious individual.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Viscount Trebworthy stumble to a stop. For a second, he remained still, then he turned and almost ran in the opposite direction.Deuced coward, she thought, ignoring the fact that less than thirty seconds ago she’d have been thanking the Almighty for such a reprieve.
‘May I help you?’ She became aware that the Adonis was speaking. And more than that. His incredible eyes were regarding her as if she were something nasty he’d found on the bottom of his shiny Hessian boot.
Which made her next words all the more preposterous. Indeed, she could scarce believe the sound of her own voice as she uttered them. ‘I was wondering if you were engaged for this dance, sir.’
His expression turned incredulous.
‘Am to understand you are propositioning me Madam?’ His voice was deep, husky and quite possibly the most arresting sound she’d ever heard. Her face coloured up as she stammered, ‘I am uncertain as to what exactly a proposition would entail, sir. I am merely asking to take up ten minutes of your time.’
Charity was aware they were beginning to attract speculative glances and was entirely certain that if he didn’t hold out his arm soon, she would die of mortification. What the deuce had she been thinking? She would never live this down.Never. If anybody had actuallyheardher request, she was ruined. Underneath her pale lilac dress, the sweat trickled down her back.
Her relief was short lived when a second later, he gave a lazy grin and held out his hand. If his voice had been arresting, his smile was quite simply devastating. Her heart slammed against her chest, and the voice inside her head was screamingrun. After casting a wild glance round at the interested stares being cast their way, Chastity knew she had no choice but to brave it out. Truly, her idiocy was breathtaking.
Biting her lip, she bent her head in acknowledgement and laying her hand over his, she allowed him to lead her to the floor. At first, he did not speak but simply swept her into his arms as the first strains of the waltz began to play. Her relief that he was an accomplished dancer was almost hysterical.Ten minutes, she just had to get through the next ten minutes. It was nothing. She stared determinedly at his chest as they whirled round the dance floor. So insistent was the mantra in her head, she hadn’t realised that she’d actually spoken the words aloud.
‘If this is not to your liking, my lady, I am more than happy to forgo the rest of the dance.’ Alarmed, she looked up, terrified she’d offended him, and he was about to leave her standing alone on the dance floor.
‘I… I… Please accept my apologies, Sir,’ she faltered. ‘I am aware that my conduct has so far been less than exemplary. I don’t… That is… I’m not usually in the habit of asking strangers to dance with me.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ was his dry response. ‘I take it you were seeking to escape Viscount Trebworthy.’
‘Oh no, not at all,’ she lied desperately.
To her surprise, he chuckled. ‘I have had occasion to be within breathing distance of the individual, and you have my complete sympathy. The man is desperately in need of a good dentist.’
Reassured that he appeared to have a human side after all, Chastity gave a timorous smile. ‘Do you have a name, sir?’ she asked hesitantly when it appeared he’d said all he intended to. If any of her family had happened to spy her on the dance floor, they would at least expect her to know the gentleman’s name. And she had little doubt that she was being observed by at least one of her sisters. ‘My name is…’ she continued, only to pause, fearing she was committing another faux pas in offering it.
‘Miss Chastity Shackleford,’ he finished. Surprised he knew her name, she was unsure what to say. For some bizarre reason, his admission made her braver, and her stare was almost challenging as she waited for him to offer his own. Instead, he gazed down at her impassively for several endless uneasy moments and she felt her bravado slip away. Somehow, in asking his name, she had stepped over some imaginary line. His beautiful eyes were guarded, but they had a slight mocking gleam that had her desperately wanting to know who he was and why he would look at her with such disdain. She did not think it due to her earlier boldness.
Despite her confusion, Chastity was almost sorry as the music finally drew to a close. ‘Thank you for the rescue,’ she murmured to his chest as she prepared to step out of his arms. ‘It was most kind of you to take pity on me, Sir.’ He gave a short laugh, and the bitterness in it had her looking up at him in surprise. She became aware that he had not released her from his grip and felt the first stirrings of alarm.
‘I’ve been called many things, Miss Shackleford,’ he commented drily, ‘but to my knowledge, never kind.’ To Chastity’s relief, he finally loosed her hands and stepped back slightly. She took hold of her skirts in preparation for her customary curtsy.
‘However, if you choose to consider my actions so,’ he continued, causing her to pause and look back up at him in unease, ‘then perhaps I can impose upon you to do a small kindness for me in return.’ He stared down at her with the same mocking gleam in his eyes, and Chastity immediately felt the last of her boldness disappear.
‘Naturally, I am happy to be of assistance if I can,’ she murmured, the uncertainty in her voice a direct contrast to her polite words.
His smile became almost feral at her obvious discomfort. ‘Then perhaps you would be so kind as to inform Nicholas Sinclair that Christian Stanhope has returned and will await his pleasure.’
And with that, he gave a low, perfectly executed bow and walked away.
Chapter Two
‘You didwhat?’ Truly Chastity had never seen her brother-in-law quite so angry. Ney, not angry,furious. Oh, he didn’t raise his voice to her. As always, Nicholas Sinclair’s outward appearance was calm and collected, but the whiteness around his mouth, his clenched jaw and flared nostrils spoke volumes. And then of course there were his eyes which were currently shooting daggers. At her.
Nervously, Chastity swallowed, glancing up at her sister who responded with an answering squeeze of her shoulder while glaring at her husband. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to furnish us with a little more information as to why Chastity dancing with a particular gentleman should send you into such a towering rage.’
‘I amnotin a towering rage,’ Nicholas responded through clenched teeth. Grace simply raised her eyebrows and waited.
‘Aye, ye are that, laddy. You look as if you’re ready te send the lass te the bloody locker. I dinna ken why you’re taking your rage out on Miss Chastity. If Christian Stanhope has popped out of whatever cesspit he was wallowing in, it surely isn’t the lass’s fault.’ Malcom’s mild rebuke earned him an icy glare. The valet stared back unconcerned, and at length, Nicholas slumped back in his chair. ‘My apologies, ladies,’ he muttered. ‘It is some years since I’ve heard that name. To be honest I’ve tried very hard not to think of it.’
‘If you hold such animosity to this … Mr. Stanhope,’ Grace commented carefully, ‘then what on earth was he doing in our house? Did someone invite him?’
