He touched two fingers to his brow in a silent salute as he watched her walk away, though it was for a completely different reason.Enjoy your power while you have it, Lady Worthington, for your time is running thin.
***
“I take it you haven’t been enjoying yourself this evening?” Amelia Abernathy’s pleasant voice drifted over to her daughter, who had finally tucked herself away in a distant, solitary corner of the ballroom, on the lookout in case Eastbury should decide to make another overture. Not to mention that from this vantage point, nearly hidden behind a large fern, Triana had quite an appealing view of the Duke of Chiltern as he conversed with Baron Nightingdon. Combined with the fourth — or was it fifth? — refreshing glass of wine she’d consumed while waiting for her mother to appear, her mood had only slightly improved.
Pausing to shoot her mother a disdainful glare over the rim of her flute, she muttered, “Is it that obvious?” And then she downed the remaining contents.
Some of the countess’ joviality slipped. “Oh, come now, Triana! Surely spending a few moments with Lord Eastbury isn’t all that terrible—”
Triana closed her eyes. “Please tell me that you aren’t still encouraging him.” But she already knew the dreaded answer.
Silence prevailed, before the lady blurted sheepishly, “I might have merely mentioned your lack of dancing partners—”
Triana cut her off with a sigh of frustration. “Why will you never desist on my marrying him?” she pleaded in an almost accusatory tone.
Her mother’s expression became firm. “Is it truly that hard to guess? Really, Triana, do you honestly not have a bit of concern for your reputation?” She gave a haughty sniff.
“And so your answer is foisting that hideous toad on me?” Triana demanded, unrepentantly.
Lady Trenton gasped in indignation. “I simply think you should do your duty to our family the way Travell has and quit allowing yourself to be the laughingstock of theton!”
The words stung, although they managed to spark Triana’s ire. However, the second she opened her mouth to retaliate to that harsh statement, the room began to spin. Swaying the slightest fraction, it was enough to make her mother take notice of the empty glass in her daughter’s hand for the first time.
Snatching it away, Amelia hissed, “You’re foxed!” With obvious disapproval in her tone and her blue eyes snapping ferociously, she continued somewhat ruthlessly, “Do you truly make it your goal to humiliate yourself at every opportunity? This is exactly the reason you need a man’s firm hand, in order to guide you along the right path. I shall speak to Travell about this, for such illicit behavior cannot continue!”
After darting a quick glance about to ensure they were still alone, the countess instructed, “I suggest you take some air while I make our excuses to the Kensingtons and have the carriage brought around. I fully expect you to join me in fifteen minutes’ time or trust me when I say I shall send Lord Eastbury to find you!” With that parting threat, she turned and stalked away.
Triana’s mood abruptly turned as sour as the churning in her stomach. How she longed for her brother’s saving graces at that moment, but he seldom left his study of late, not to mention attend a meaningless ball. And while Triana liked to believe her mother wasn’t truly nasty by nature, her lectures were becoming even more malicious.
Smacking at the fern in sudden annoyance, Triana headed for the terrace.
She stepped over the threshold onto the darkened veranda and lifted her face to the cool, evening breeze, hoping it would work as a balm to her battling frustration. She detected the scent of a coming spring rain, and breathing deeply — she frowned, having caught the faint aroma of something else mingling in the air.
Tobacco.Someone was smoking a cigar.
Triana realized for the first time that she might not be alone, so she started to turn and scan the area around her, but froze when a deeply, confident voice murmured, “Lovely evening, is it not?”
With a startled gasp, she spun toward the sound like a bee might seek out the sweetest honey and found…him. The Duke of Chiltern was leaning against the shadowed balustrade — a hint of an amused smile touching that glorious mouth. A ringlet of smoke swirled up from the cheroot he’d gently placed between two masculine fingers as he slowly rolled it back and forth. Never before had Triana imagined such a mundane action could be even remotely sensual, but she found her blood heating at the simple movement. Likely a side effect from the Madeira — although she had her doubts.
She swallowed nervously and allowed her gaze to drink in the glorious sight before her. She could almostfeelthose silver eyes boring right into her soul. Could he read her deepest, darkest thoughts? The idea that he could caused her to bite her lower lip in anticipation.
He noticed the action and, keeping eye contact, began to saunter closer; each step causing her breath to quicken. The dull wash of the moon illuminated his dark hair, giving it a sort of golden halo as he moved further into the light. He appeared, at once, both ethereal — and dangerous.
Gabriel — saint and sinner.Angel and demon.
His very presence seemed to envelop her as he took a slow, lengthy drag off the cigar before expelling the smoke in a breathless, white cloud. It took flight and dissipated, but Triana’s eyes were riveted on those full lips.How would it feel if he kissed me? Passionate? Demanding, perhaps?Moistening her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, she suddenly yearned to find out.
“You know,” he began in a low, almost caressing drawl, “it’s been my experience that looking at a man that way will only lead to trouble.”
Triana’s heart jumped into her throat as her gaze snapped back to his, where she found those silver, glittering orbs carefully assessing her. For a single moment, she thought she saw… something there, but he smoothly turned away and flicked the cheroot over the railing and then faced her with a more somber expression. Executing a formal bow from the waist, he said, “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. Allow me to rectify that. I’m the Duke of Chiltern, at your service.”
Triana knew she should respond, but although she desperately tried to make her mind function properly, it was as fuzzy as a ten-year-old cat. Alcohol really was a terrible thing, especially when one wasn’t used to drinking it!
Without warning, the world began to tilt violently on its axis. Weaving unsteadily, she put a hand to her forehead and tried to speak. “I…”
He seemed to sense what was wrong, for his arm quickly shot out, the warmth and strength of those corded muscles a pleasing and welcome distraction to her rocking core.
God, no!She groaned miserably.Thiscan’thappen now!
