“A country set is forming, Alex,” said Charles, without a second glance at the earl. “I pray that you will do me the honor of agreeing to a dance?”
“Will you excuse me, sir?” said Alex. It was a statement rather than a question, for she was already moving toward dance floor with her partner.
Branford’s lips compressed.Damn the chit for abandoning him to the London Botanical Society scholars…
And, he wondered, who the devil was the pup, to be on a first name basis with her?
“Ah, as I was saying Lord Branford …” said Heppleford, returning to his earlier statement.
Gentlemanly manners made the earl stifle the urge to turn on his heel and walk away. But though he only intended to listen with half an ear, Branford soon found himself drawn into the conversation. It was novel to be spoken to as a fellow enthusiast rather than … a murderer.Or worse.Even Simpson seemed to lose the wary look on his face as he became animated in defense of his theory on how to arrange certain shrubs to ensure maximum bloom. And, in truth, the men were actually quite interesting …
As soon asAlex and her friend were out of earshot of Branford and the two botanists, Duckleigh leaned toward her. “Alex, I had heard rumors thathewas bothering you …” His gaze shifted for an instant to Branford and then back again
“Heis not bothering me in the least,” she answered tartly.
The young man looked perplexed for a moment, then his face brightened. “Of course. You are much too smart to fall prey to his advances. I’m heartily glad to hear you have sent him away with a flea in his ear.”
The steps of the dance took them apart for a bit. When they came together again, Alex adroitly changed the subject of discussion to the last lecture of The London Botanical Society. That brought a light to Duckleigh’s eyes, as he, too, was a member of the society, and all mention of the Earl of Branford was forgotten.
As the two of them returned to Branford and the botanists, Duckleigh murmured an observation about the crowd that madeher laugh. Eyes sparking with amusement, she leaned close to whisper a reply.
Engrossed in Charles’s pith comments about overdressed duchess, Alex didn’t see the earl put down his glass and excuse. himself from his companions. It wasn’t until he moved to join them that she was aware of his presence.
“I hope you are not too tired to grant me my waltz, Miss Chilton.” He held out his hand without waiting for a reply. “I believe the music is already starting.”
Charles regarded him with narrowed eyes but stepped aside without a word.
Puzzled by the unmistakable chill that suddenly swirled around the three of them, she allowed herself to be led out to the dance floor.
Branford cleared his throat but remained silent for the first few measures of the dance. She dutifully followed, concentrating on the intricate steps of an upcoming spin.
“Another member of your Society?” asked the earl abruptly once they had finished the move.
“If you mean Charles, he is a cousin of Lord Halford and serves as his secretary,” she replied. “And yes, he is a member—an enthusiastic one. His interest is focused on herbs.”
“Among other things,” muttered Branford under his breath. After guiding her through a quick twirl, he added, “He sounds like a dull dog.”
Alex cocked her head. “I suppose he does to a man of your interests.”
“And just what do you mean by that?” he asked
Alex looked at him unwaveringly. “It is well known that you are a true Corinthian, sir—an expert driver of high-perch phaetons, a superb rider, a deadly shot?—”
“Have a care Miss Chilton,” he said softly. “Few men would dare to bait me thus.”
Alex’s eyes widened in surprise, then took on a look of acute embarrassment. “Milord,” she faltered, “I meant no … that is …” She let out a sigh. “Oh, it must be horribly unpleasant to be the subject of such nasty rumors and innuendo.”
It was Branford’s turn to look surprised. “Which of the rumors have you heard?” he asked.
“Well, there are the two duels,” she said slowly.
“Ah, yes, the duels. Pray, tell me how do they go at the moment?” There was an edge to his voice. “Do I simply put a period to some poor fellow’s existence because I wish to continue dallying with his wife, or has it gotten more interesting? Perhaps he has actually found me between the sheets with his bride and demands immediate satisfaction,” he said in a bitter tone.” A tiny muscle on his jaw twitched. “Forgive me if I have shocked you, Miss Chilton.”
“Actually, as the story goes, it is the wife who demands satisfaction. Before she allows you to leave her bed to deal with the enraged husband.”
Branford struggled to suppress a chuckle. “How the devil do you have any notion of …”
“Because my brother credits me with enough sense to speak to me as he would to one of his male acquaintances.”
