“Miss Lithwick.”
Trevor’s face shuttered. Lucasta looked up into the deep gold-brown of Jem’s eyes.
“Milord Rudyard.” She wished she didn’t sound breathless.
“The sun left us when I returned you home yesterday.”
His eyes were not on her as he delivered this pretty compliment, but on Trevor Pevensey. There was somethingguarded in Jem’s look—hostility? Annoyance bubbled. He had waited an awful long time to approach her.
“What a foolish thing to say,” she answered, noting with alarm that she stood in the canyon between the two men’s bodies. “The clouds have come in nearly every day of this month, and yet we still have no rain.”
“You will honor me with a dance after supper? I have requested the musicians play the Duke of York’s Cotillion. Though I notice,” he added, and his eyes twinkled with mischief, “they are the same band as at Lady Clara’s party, with the same wretched second violin.”
She pursed her lips so she would not catch his grin. Trevor watched her face closely.
“How enterprising of you, Lord Rudyard, to invite me to tread once again on your toes.”
“A small sacrifice,” he murmured, and with a short bow moved away.
Trevor watched him move among the company, paying small compliments here and there. “M’father doesn’t like that man,” he said shortly.
“He’d accept in a moment did he offer for Cici’s hand,” Lucasta said in surprise.
“It doesn’t appear to be Cici he’s interested in,” Trevor replied.
Lucasta’s heart executed the most astonishing pirouette at that remark, and still had not settled when the music struck up and Rudyard claimed her. He was Smart Jeremy to this crowd, Rudyard to the rest of the world, Jeremiah Falstead to her, and fast becoming Jem. She must not,must notbe a fool.
“I have secured my first performers for the Foundling Hospital’s benefit concert,” she reported as they bowed and began the country dance. “The Gorgons have consented to perform one of Haydn’s string quartets.”
“We shall sell out on that basis alone.” He swept her through a turn, his hand firm and strong through her protective layer of chintz.
“I had a note from Judith today,” he added. “She demanded I bring you to see her again.”
“As soon as she would like,” Lucasta said immediately.
“Alas, I have business tomorrow. The day next?”
“I believe I am free of obligations.” She ought not seem too eager. Indeed she ought to spend all her spare time organizing the concert. The governor’s board had set a date mere weeks away, wanting to take advantage of the nobility in town before Parliament concluded.
Rudyard watched her as the ladieschassédto their places, his face arresting her thought, the stern nose and sharp jaw such a contrast with his sensual lips and melting eyes. She wanted his company as much as she wanted his sister’s.
Goose.
“The violinist seems behaving tonight.” He bent his head and spoke low near her ear as they came together for the promenade.
“He is much improved. I knew he was a fiddler and not a concert violinist. I wonder if he would sell me his Amati in that case.”
Rudyard glanced at her face. “I suppose I ought not ask for a second dance.”
There would be speculation if he did. Worse, there would be more danger for her. With his hands holding hers at her back and waist, his gloved fingers tight and firm around her own, his leg brushing her skirt, Lucasta had the strange sense that she’d stepped into a place made for her.
“I suppose not.” Her voice came out husky.
“Everyone will think I am paying court to you.” His fingers squeezed hers. She recalled how he caught her when she fell out of his carriage, the press of his body against hers. She felt faint.
“We mustn’t have that.” She barely breathed.
“And your escort, I think, is begging for a reason to call me out.”
