She craned her neck looking for the object of so much interest. There. In the door way. Her eyes drank him in. Grayson Douglas. London’s most talked about man. At least in the ladies’ circles.
A shiver skittered down her spine. Even from a distance he posed a most remarkable figure. Broad shouldered. Tall.Handsome. He glanced her way and their eyes briefly locked. She felt the jolt all the way to her feet. Saints preserve, and she hadn’t even kissed this man. Was this how it was supposed to feel?
“What are you looking at?” Sebastian broke in.
She yanked her eyes guiltily away. “Oh nothing. Just watching people. It’s a favorite entertainment of mine.”
He looked doubtfully at her, and she rushed to add credence to her story.
“You learn quite a bit about other people by observing them at social functions. For instance, did you know that Lady Brumley hides a small flask of brandy behind her fan and sips when no one is looking?”
Sebastian bit back a chuckle, and she hastened on. “And Sir Harry wears a corset. Lord and Lady Sinclair sneak food from the refreshment table into her reticule. I’ve seen them make off with a few pieces of silver as well.”
She nodded her head toward the opposite wall. “See Lady Margaret?”
He glanced over to the older matron keeping watch over her charge like a hawk over its prey. “The paragon of virtue? Be glad she didn’t see you go off to the terrace with Stuart.”
“I have it on good authority that she regularly sneaks off to the library or other out of the way rooms for an assignment with Lord Montesque.”
“That is hardly fit for you to repeat,” he said with a frown. Then he glanced back at Lady Margaret. “Does she really?”
Jenna stifled a giggle. “I’ve witnessed her with my own eyes. Well,” she added hastily. “Not in the act, but I’ve heard some rather interesting noises in passing. Then saw them both sneak out of the library separately.”
“Remind me to keep a better watch on your comings and goings,” he murmured.
She chanced another glimpse at Mr. Douglas, and a delicious thrill ran over her all over again. Why couldn’t Stuart incite such a reaction from her? She had never been closer than across the room from this man, and yet she could feel him in every fiber of her being. Never in her twenty years had she been so achingly aware of another person.
He was surrounded by women, and he smiled charmingly at all of them as he dipped his head in conversation. Lady Lockhart approached him, and he kissed her hand in greeting. After a quick exchange of conversation, he led her away from his group of admirers and closer to where Jenna was dancing.
From the corner of her eye, a flash of color directed her attention from Mr. Douglas. She turned to see Stuart gesturing excitedly as he spoke to Lord Flivel. She could well imagine the topic of conversation. Clothing or other such frivolity.
Heavy sadness crept slowly into her chest, and she felt the strongest desire to weep. For too long she had been in stark denial of the reality of her circumstances. Not only was she doomed to a marriage with a complete fop, but she would spend the rest of her life with a man who neither desired her or inspired passion within her.
And it shouldn’t matter. Marriages were hardly formed based on an idea of compatibility or something as silly as love. And passion was reserved for romance novels and poets. But it did. It mattered to her.
“What’s wrong, Sprite?” Sebastian’s concerned voice filtered through the heavy blanket of fog surrounding her thoughts.
She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Just watching the festivities.”
As the music died, she breathed a sigh of relief. She took Sebastian’s arm and walked with him back to the perimeter of the ball room.
Quinn was waiting for them, a glass of lemonade in hand for Jenna.
“Escape the debutantes?” Jenna asked as she accepted the drink.
“Escape? I dare say I have no intention of escaping such lovely company.”
Sebastian let out a groan. “Who have you fallen in love with this time?”
Quinn raised a brow. “Love has nothing to do with it. Her attributes, on the other hand...” He finished his statement with a devilish grin.
“This is hardly appropriate conversation to be having in front of Jenna,” Sebastian said pointedly.
But Jenna only half heard her brothers’ bantering. Her gaze was fixed on the mysterious Mr. Douglas. Could everything she’d heard about him really be true? She’d heard personal testimonies from at least half a dozen society women, not to mention the second-hand accounts of countless others.
His prowess in bedroom activities was a legendary topic in the drawing rooms of London’s most esteemed women.
She glanced back at her brothers who were still involved in their bickering. Her parents wouldn’t return from Italy for another fortnight. Surely that was enough time to discover if Mr. Douglas’s reputation was warranted.
