Triana glanced beyond the woman’s shoulder to see that, indeed, the earl was attempting to weave his way through the crowd toward her.
Drat.
Standing, Triana quickly said, “Thanks for the warning,” before she rushed off in the opposite direction.
If anyone could be considered a thorn in Triana’s side — other than her mother — it was Alfred Durning, the Earl of Eastbury. With the least bit of encouragement on her part, Triana had no doubt that he would press his suit, but since she refused to do so, it continuously had Triana and her mother at sixes and sevens. But not only was the man old enough to be her father, plus a few years, with a paunchy exterior, a receding hairline, and breath that smelled like the Thames in summertime, once he put in his appearance at an event she was destined to be plagued for the rest of the evening.
Thankfully, Travell was sympathetic to her resistance; so he didn’t press the issue, but heaven help her when an actual proposal came, for her mother would become relentless. If that became the case, she feared her brother might actually concede to Lady Trenton’s demands, if nothing else, then just for some peace and quiet around the house.
Triana kept praying that eventually the earl’s affections would shift elsewhere and he would find one of the fresh debutantes more to his liking before she was forced to the altar. The fact that he had not as yet was more troubling than she liked to admit.
She suppressed a shudder as she snatched a glass of Madeira from a passing footman, feeling the need for some liquid reinforcement.
But just as Triana’s gloved hand lifted the delicate stem to her lips, her gaze drifted toward the entrance to the ballroom. Suddenly, every nerve ending abruptly came alive, making her breath catch and her pulse to thunder erratically.
While he wasn’t turned in her direction, his features in chiseled profile as he spoke to his host and hostess, there was no mistaking that towering stance or the broad shoulders that belonged to Gabriel Wilde, the enigmatic, Duke of Chiltern.
Triana pressed a hand to her chest, and made a feeble attempt to calm the blood rushing through her veins. She took a sip of her wine with shaking fingers. Compelled to watch him over the rim of her flute, Triana thought that it really wasn’t fair that any one man should be possessed of such a handsome visage. The duke literally exuded a raw magnetism that left very few unaware of his presence in a room.
Gabriel’s name was whispered past every set of lips in every drawing room in fashionable London — and likely all of England. Having returned to his ancestral soil after living several years abroad (only God knows where, although there had been talk of the Orient), he had become a rather fascinating subject upon his return nearly two weeks ago, and while thetonthrived on a good scandal, a mystery was equally intriguing.
It was the bits and pieces sent out among the rumor mills that had caused the largest stir. Some gushed about the insane amount of wealth he’d recently inherited, while other talk was more subdued, a select few claiming how sad it was that he had not made amends with his father before the man’s untimely death a month ago. And regardless of the fact he had not allotted a proper grievance period for his sire, having been graciously accepted back into society less than a week after the funeral, which he hadn’t even attended, thetonwas not so unforgiving as to let a wealthy bachelor — and a duke, no less — slip through their grasp without letting such a “minor” indiscretion become a hindrance.
While it had all infuriated Triana at first, that it was just like thetonto forgive a man’s impudence, that was all before she’d actually seen him and realized what all the fuss was about. Just a glimpse of that thick, mahogany hair....a glance from that sleek, silver gaze...or a flash of that dazzling, white smile, had reduced Triana (and most of the women of theton), to a puddle of quivering sighs.
In short, the man was absolutelysinful.
In spite of this, naturally, every society hostess was clamoring to gain him on her guest list, and if she had a marriageable daughter, the fight was even more so. But while Gabriel appeared to be unattached at this point, for Triana had yet to see him with any one woman longer than the polite niceties dictated, she would wager a guess that there was a list of possible matches circulating around somewhere, most likely in the betting books at White’s.
Suddenly, Gabriel threw back his head and laughed at something obviously witty that Lady Kensington had just said; the rich sound drifting over to where Triana stood frozen in place. She felt her lungs freeze in her chest, before common sense jolted her back to reality. A man like that would never even look twice at a woman like her.
It was just as well, Triana thought, with a tilt of her chin. She didn’t need any man interfering in her life, telling her what to do, or how to act. No matter how Chiltern appeared on the outside, he undoubtedly had a heart just as black as Wistenberry.
Bringing her glass to her mouth, Triana blinked when nothing touched her tongue. She quickly exchanged her empty flute for a full one, and was just about to lift the sparkling wine to her lips, when she heard her name being called. Withholding a groan, she realized that lady luck was obviously not on her side tonight, and what a laugh she must be having at her expense!
Doing her best not to grimace, Triana turned slowly, albeit a bit reluctantly, to face the earl. Lord Eastbury was sauntering up to her in what he must feel was a charming manner but what put her more in mind of a waddling duck.
Sweeping both of her hands into his, he bestowed a wide smile that boasted yellowed teeth. “My dear, Miss Abernathy!” He exclaimed, bestowing a kiss upon the top of each of her hands, making her thankful she wore gloves. “You lookravishingas usual.”
Barely able to keep from yanking her extremities away, Triana inclined her head politely, although her eyes narrowed slightly in the face of that leering grin and the emphasis he put on “ravishing.” She was not ignorant of the fact that he desired her, for he made that fact abundantly clear each time they were together — and it made her skin crawl. But with the endless hours of decorum she’d endured as a child drummed into her head, she managed a reserved nod and a cool reply. “What a pleasant surprise, my lord.”
Seeming to take her polite statement as encouragement and not at face value, he leaned closer. Quelling the overwhelming urge to pinch her nose against such a horrid assault on her senses, Triana silently resorted to holding her breath until he moved away.
One,two,three...
“M’dear, surely you know that I wouldn’t miss even a single opportunity to be in your company.”
…five,six,seven…
“Most notably a lady of your outstanding...uh...qualities.”
His gaze had dropped to her generous bosom mid-sentence, before returning to her face with a brief clearing of his throat, leaving no room for doubt as to what he considered her best feature. Triana was able to make it to thirteen before outrage at his boldness caused her to expel her lungs in a rush.How dare he eye me as if I were a slab of meat at market!
Enough was enough.
Knowing she was about to lose her temper and not wishing to make an unnecessary scene, Triana made a show of gingerly touching her forehead. Giving a dramatic sigh that would have made any actress on Drury Lane applaud, she said, “I truly apologize, my lord, but I fear I have the most dreadful headache coming on. If you’ll excuse me—”
She started to take her leave, but he was faster than she gave his heavy form credit for. Grabbing her elbow, he offered, “By all means, allow me to escort you.”
