He raised his eyebrows, taken aback in spite of her reputation for putting men in their places. “If you were a man, I would challenge you for that.”
“If I were a man, I would meet you at dawn,” she said without a hint of prevarication.
How marvelous she was. He hadn’t dreamed the ice queen of thetoncontained such fire. “I can think of a much more enjoyable way for us to be together come dawn.”
He braced himself for a slap and the shock that would race through the room, confirming both their reputations. Instead, she looked down. Though the action concealed much, he could see her cheeks round. Was Lady Lanora smiling at his innuendo?
Her lack of composure gave him the moments he required to regain his. “Agree to one waltz with me, my lady,” he pressed, now eager to experience the feel of her in his arms. “I can promise you the reason it’s scandalous is because it’s quite enjoyable.”
She looked up, her face smooth of expression, but her gaze contemplative. She possessed the most striking eyes he’d ever seen.
“The truth is, I do not know how to waltz.”
His eyebrows shot up again.
“If you tell anyone, I shall put it out that you asked me to marry you,” she added.
He grinned. “Threats, my lady? I would have thought such tactics beneath you.”
She made an airy gesture with one long-fingered hand. “I have an absent father. It’s likely I’ve not been raised well. We have spoken long enough, my lord. We’re garnering attention.”
As he wished, for word would get back to the marquess that William was following orders. Still, it wouldn’t do to put his quarry too much on guard. “Of course. My apologies. I’m sure you do not wish to have your name sullied by association.”
“One would think as much, wouldn’t one?” She curtsied.
William bowed, oddly stung she hadn’t disagreed. He turned and strode away. Men flocked about her in his wake, setting his teeth on edge.
He didn’t remain at the ball, but headed outside to call for his carriage. After two encounters with Lady Lanora, though she knew of only one, William was rather certain he had a problem. That problem, as usual, was the marquess. The old man said William must marry. Lady Lanora was on Lethbridge’s list. William knew, though, that she wouldn’t be if the marquess had reviewed it.
Lady Lanora was more apt than any other person in London to discover that William had never been to Egypt, let alone lived there until he reappeared at age fourteen. She might feel sympathy for London’s poor. She might wax compassionately on the worth of a man, but he knew his peers. If she learned he’d grown up in the slums of London, she would disdain him. Worse, she would reveal his secret to theton.
The trouble was, now that he’d met her, William was intrigued. Her raven locks and sparkling emerald eyes set her apart from other ladies of theton. Her lithe form, gently curved in the most desirable places, begged a man to put his hands on her, and he was resolved to. William would have his waltz.
More than that, beneath a façade obviously designed to keep the world at a distance, resided a keenness of wit in her eyes, and a spark. It made sense, being the daughter of a renowned scholar and explorer. As Darington’s daughter was. William could tell from the man’s letters she was intelligent. Was Lady Lanora similarly so? He feared she might be.
Equally disturbing was the stab of fury as he walked away, while other men crowded her. No woman had inspired that spark of possessiveness in him. He was very worried it was the seed of attraction. With that seed planted, it would be impossible to consider any of the other suggested women. If William must bind himself to one of theton’sdiamonds, it would be one for whom he felt at least a spark of desire.
When his carriage arrived, William told his man to take him to the marquess’s London home. They set out for the Westlock residence, where William had spent the first four years of his life, and then four more, before heading to the reprieve of university. After that, he’d established his own household. He’d sworn never to reside under the same roof with the old man again.
The marquess would think rebelliousness drove William to select Lady Lanora from Lethbridge’s list. Let him. That was safer than giving the old man any truth, for knowledge was leverage, and giving the marquess leverage was dangerous. If he wanted William married, he would have to agree with William’s choice. It was Lady Lanora or no one. She was the first woman of thetonto stir so much as a flicker of interest in him.
His resolve marshalled, when the carriage stopped at the marquess’s home, William vaulted from the vehicle. The house was a stern, sever building, and dark. Almost a blight on the wealthy London street, though faultlessly maintained. The marquess’s butler, a man whose face didn’t move even when he spoke, opened the door. He bowed, accepting William’s hat and gloves.
“He’s in his office?” William asked.
“Yes, my lord.”
Halfway down the hall, grim ancient faces glared at him from gilt frames on the flock-clad walls, William reined in his purposeful strides and slowed. He took several deep breaths. A confrontation of wills was best avoided. The marquess held too many cards. Lighter steps brought him to the dark mahogany door. He knocked, pressed the door open before the sound died, and stepped in. He took petty delight in the minor disrespect.
As always, the sturdy form of the marquess filled the large leather-upholstered chair behind the desk. William closed the door, attention on the old man as he passed matching leather couches and continued to the chair before the desk. The marquess didn’t stand. William didn’t bow.
The marquess set aside his pen, dropping a blotting page over his work. “You’ve come about your marriage.”
It was difficult to tell in the flickering lamplight, but the old man looked drawn. William liked to imagine there was an unhealthy yellow tinge to his skin. “You would force me to wed in twenty days.”
“Under twenty now. Your score of days began when you signed. In spite of your numerous weaknesses, I expect you know how to count. I also expect you to honor your word.” The marquess coughed. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth, then shoved the square back in his pocket.
How William longed to wrest the handkerchief from him, in the hope it held blood. “And I expect you to honor yours, old man. If I wed a woman from that list, the Westlock fortunes are mine.”
