“And Radiance,” she finished while he dissolved again into peals of laughter.
“No, stop please,” he begged. “My sides are hurting. Is there, by any chance, a sister named Luster? For she will be the one for me. Lusty Diamond would be my ideal wench.”
With those incorrigible words hanging in the air, Purity turned upon her heel and walked toward the door, the man’s chortles still ringing in her ears.
In the doorway, another woman appeared, out of breath, wearing a gaudy scarlet satin gown and too much color upon her cheeks and lips. Knowing the frippery female to be a woman of easy virtue, Purity didn’t acknowledge her, merely brushing past and out the open door.
Evidently, the scarlet woman was the one he’d intended to meet and to kiss. And what was the other thing he said?Have a flyer?
“Wretched rake!” Purity muttered under her breath, hurrying back to the ballroom.
Matthew was sorry tosee the spitfire leave. Lady Purity was a passionate, gorgeous female without the savvy to know she ought not to have given him her name, not under any circumstances. She was lucky he was a gentleman. But what a dreadful mistake he’d made in thinking her a light-skirt.
When the actual high-flier with whom his friend had suggested an assignation sidled up, he sighed. She was a caricature of the desirable, petite woman he’d just kissed. Just like that, he decided not to take what she was offering, not for any price. Instead, he apologized and strode out.
Perhaps he would catch Lady Purity still in the ballroom and ...and what?
The last dance had concluded, and people were leaving. He could hardly go up to her without a formal introduction, nor was anyone likely to perform the necessary greeting when there were no more dances to enjoy.
Matthew would have to wait until the next event, glad he’d returned to London from two years on the Continent in time for the social Season. While he had put off finding a wife, for the first time, he had need of one. In his townhouse, tucked in bed in the makeshift nursery was a little girl for whom he now had sole responsibility.
A nanny was giving her all the necessary daily care, but a wife would be a proper mother to her, as long as he found the right one.
First, he had to win the heart of a decent lady who could see past his rather rakish reputation, and then he had to overcome any resistance she might have to raising someone else’s child.
Matthew took another look around for Lady Purity but saw no lovely, dark-haired female wearing lapis-blue silk that matched her eyes. He shouldn’t pin his hopes upon her. But despite having caught an unpleasant sulfuric aroma in her hair, the rest of her had smelled heavenly, like roses. She was as good a lady as any with whom to start his hunt. Not only had he felt an instant attraction, she had been interested in him, too, if her heated response was any indication.
The slap was a warning, a chastisement, but not an absolute sign of disinclination.
Humming to himself, Matthew went in search of a hackney to take him to his club. Usually assured of a friend most any time of the afternoon or evening at Boodle’s, since it was after midnight, there would be only the bachelors.
“What, or rather who, has put that grin on your mug?” asked Lord Jasper Quinn, whom he’d known since his years at Cambridge.
Why not tell him?He was in such a good mood at having met a vision of a woman.
“Lady Purity,” he began.
“The Diamond daughter?” His friend sounded incredulous.
When Matthew nodded, Quinn’s shout of laughter elicited scowls from the less rambunctious gentlemen across the dining room.
“You have to be pulling my leg,” he declared.
“Why?” Matthew asked. “You have eyes, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. She is a stunning wench, make no mistake. But you haven’t been in London for nearly two years. She’s our generation’s answer to Mrs. Princum-Prancum, I dare say.”
Not by their fiery kiss she wasn’t, but Matthew would never disclose such a thing, except a few words to shut his friend’s mouth.
“After all, you’re the Fox, and you’ll be hard put to gain any sport from her,” Quinn continued.
Matthew did not care for that silly moniker.
“I found her to be an amusing female,” he countered. “Not at all a prude.”
Quinn’s dark eyebrows shot up, and his eyes lit with interest. “Really? Do tell.”
Now his friend was too curious.
