“You flatter me. Or is it because you wish me to stop asking troublesome questions?”
Laura smiled. She didn’t really want to silence him. She could listen to his voice forever, while gazing into his handsome countenance. But it was true she loved to dance, and being in his arms. As he took her at her word and silently guided her masterfully through the steps, she gave herself up to the pleasure of the waltz. The music rose to a crescendo, as did her rapture. And the evening turned from tedium to something infinitely special, the moment as delicate as a cobweb. The other dancers in their finery swirled past in a rainbow of colors as the earl, holding her firmly, turned her and twirled her over the floor, until her breath came in gasps. His gaze dropped brazenly to her bosom, which gave her emotions away, rising and falling rapidly above the scoop neckline of her pale-blue silk gown. He excited her, and he knew it.
So this was a rake. Known to flout society’s rules. She had never encountered one at close quarters. There was a reason these men were so successful with women. Not all were handsome, although Lord Debnam undoubtedly was. Like Casanova, they could charm a woman into giving up everything for them. Even face ruin. She had seen him only twice during the busy London Season. Perhaps he wasn’t often in Town. But she didn’t doubt a man such as he would have bedded many women. Had he left some of them desperate and heartbroken? She could only guess. But it was not just rakes who behaved without honor. She knew that only too well.
Despite her critical assessment of him, she felt some regret that the dance had ended. There had been so little during this Season that had given her pleasure. With her hand resting lightly on his forearm, they left the dance floor among the other couples.
“It has grown hot and smoky in here. Shall we seek the cooler air on the terrace?” he asked.
What was his intention? To whisk her away into the gardens and seduce her? She had heard horrible stories of debutantes being ravished by ruthless men. But she was not a foolish, young girl. She had a good head on her shoulders. And yet… What was wrong with her? She should sayno. “I wonder if we should. People might talk.”Much that he would care, she thought. He seemed impervious to criticism, but a man could afford to be.
“Let them, Miss Peyton. You have braved the dance floor with me more than once. Tongues already wag. It is what thetonlike to do. Before the night is out and some other more interesting indiscretion occurs, we will be forgotten.”
His deep voice made her tingle all over, while his eyes invited her to misbehave. He flirted, but he did so with such elan. Bored silly with London manners and polite conversation, she wasn’t ready for this to end. It was a small rebellion, and harmless. So, why not? Even if he tried, the earl could not convince her to leave the terrace for the shadowy gardens. And as he’d pointed out so adroitly, at her age, she must be of little interest to the gossips. As they approached, a glance out through the glass told her several guests had escaped the intolerably hot ballroom and stood along the terrace rail.
Safety in company. “Why not?”
“Why not indeed.” He led her in that direction as Laura searched the guests for signs of disapproval, but it appeared she and the earl were no longer of interest, and right now, she didn’t care.
Her chin raised high, she walked with him through the French doors a footman opened for them. “I trust you will remain within the bounds of propriety, Lord Debnam,” she said with a slight smile as they crossed the terrace. He could hardly behave otherwise, for even more guests came up the steps from the lantern-lit gardens.
He chuckled, evidently appreciating her humor, but also reminding her of how he thumbed his nose at society’s rules. It was intoxicating. A sensation deep inside shook her, followed hastily by a warning she must heed. He might act as he wished, but she could not. She must never allow him to lead her into controversy.
Above them, the sky was a midnight-dark blanket, the glittering stars strewn across the heavens, like diamonds on velvet in a jeweler’s display cabinet. She took a deep breath of the perfumed air from the flowering shrubs. Taking her arm, he drew her away from the other guests and managed to find an unoccupied corner.
When Laura went to move away, he shook his head. He leaned forward and ran a finger ever so lightly beneath her bottom lip. “Moonlight becomes you, Miss Peyton.”
He made her tremble with sexual awareness. What he offered gave a glimpse of how sublime it could be between them while it threatened to wreak havoc on her life. Did he feel the same? It would be just a game for him. But oh-so-devilishly attractive and hard to resist. She’d thought herself too mature and sensible for this.
She stepped back, seeking a safer distance while unnerved by the impulse to stay close. To want more. Could she not rely on her good sense when with this man? “Was I wrong to trust you, my lord?” Of course she had been.
His gaze rested on her mouth then lifted to search her eyes. “Did I ask you to trust me, Miss Peyton? I’m sorry I gave you that impression. Where you’re concerned, I am very untrustworthy, indeed.”
She swallowed and forced a laugh. “Then I am fortunate to be surrounded by people.”
He smiled, teeth white in the shadowy light. “Or unfortunate. It depends on how you look at it. We would be very good together.”
Excited, then appalled at how he affected her, she shook her head. So much more at ease than she, he threatened to draw her into something which would be a calamity for her.
She struggled to regain her calm demeanor, which had served her so well in the past. “Is this tantamount to a proposal, Lord Debnam?” she asked in a brisk tone. It wasn’t, but she wished to shock him. To give herself time to recover from his sensual assault.
If she’d expected to fluster him, she failed. He frowned and shook his head. “I shall never marry.”
“Never?” Laura sensed she had at least startled him. “Why so adamant? An earl must marry to safeguard his lineage, must he not?”
Lord Debnam shrugged, having gained his composure. “It is something I decided some years ago. I’ve had no reason since to change my mind.”
“That is not an answer.” She was being rudely inquisitive, but she really wanted to know.
He smiled. “It is all I’m prepared to give you.”
“But you seek knowledge of me, which hardly seems fair.”
He grinned. “Just being with you tells me much about you.”
“Surely not.” Was she that easy to read? But it was true her life had been unremarkable to date, and with no opportunity for improvement.
Annoyed, although she wasn’t sure why, she glanced around at the terrace and discovered with surprise that most of the guests had gone inside. Only one couple remained engaged in a heated discussion. Along the empty garden paths, the braziers flickered in the brisk breeze. “The night turns cool. Everyone has gone in. We should join them.”
