In an effort to be a good host and begin his search for a wife in earnest, Justin had danced with half a score of ladies, though he continued to do his utmost to elude Henrietta Hazelton, who stalked him like a lioness hunting a gazelle in the wilds of Africa.
Mama, it seemed, had wasted no time in spreading the news of Justin’s intentions to every mother in the ballroom in possession of an eligible daughter. As a result, he’d found himself the recipient of a great many longing glances, purposeful stares, and tittering laughs.
He smoothed his hand down his black evening coat and straightened his shoulders. No matter. He could handle the ladies’ interest. He’d been doing it most of his adult life already. Besides, he’d made his decision, and he intended to stick with it. He’d told Mama on purpose, knowing there would be no turning back once Mama informed the masses that he was intent on finding a bride. And it was time. High time. He was thirty years of age, for heaven’s sake.
He didn’t allow himself to think about the other reason for his decision. The one he didn’t like to admit to himself, though he could not in good conscience deny. The more he had been unable to stop thinking about Madeline over the past weeks, the more he’d decided it was time to take a wife. Even though he’d managed to successfully avoid her for two long months, a wife in the house would be a strong deterrent—one he desperately needed. Even a wife who didn’t care if he had dalliances wouldn’t take kindly to her husband showing favor to a maid under her own roof. Yes. Taking a wife was prudent for more than one reason.
Of course, he hadn’t changed his mind about what sort of wife he wanted. He’d merely changed his mind about the timing of the thing. A wife who felt absolutely nothing for him. That was the key. There were scores of ladies here looking for just such a husband. Handsome, eligible, rich. He supposed he had those qualities in spades.
Just as Jessa had pointed out about Thornbury earlier, those were the sorts of things a young woman of good breeding wanted in a husband. Love had little to do with it. Jessa hadn’t mentioned love, had she? She hadn’t even met Thornbury. It would no doubt be a simple task to find the perfect wife. All he had to do was to locate a woman from a good family with a history of breeding successfully. If she was pleasant and beautiful as well, then all the better. How difficult could that possibly be?
Only, he hadn’t quite expected that his pronouncement would turn the mood in the ballroom tonight into one in which his every move was watched. He felt as if the enormous ballroom and its female occupants were closing in on him. He needed to get away. He needed to be alone and collect his thoughts.
He waited until the guests were distracted by the arrival of lemon tarts and chocolate cakes brought in on large silver platters by a team of footmen, before he turned and strode from the ballroom. He’d timed it perfectly. Desserts often served to distract ladies.
Once in the corridor, he made his way to the front drawing room. On his way, the musicians in the ballroom began to play the same waltz he and Madeline had danced to at the Hazeltons’.
He pushed open the door to the drawing room and stepped inside.
And that’s when he saw her.
Madeline stood in the center of the room dancing the waltz with an imaginary partner. A smile lifted the edge of his lips. He watched silently, waiting for her to turn and see him. The moment she did, she immediately stopped short.
“Don’t let me keep you from it,” he said, the smile still pinned to his face. “I know how much you like to dance.”
She shook her head and made to walk around him, but his arm shot out and he pulled her into his arms. “Very well then, we’ll just have to dance together.”
Justin knew it was wrong. He knew no good could come from it, but he couldn’t stop himself from tugging her against him and breathing in her lilac scent. She smelled heavenly, just like he’d remembered in his dreams these past two months.
Tonight, she wasn’t wearing a ballgown. She was wearing her black maid’s uniform with a white apron. But she was still incomparable—more beautiful than any of the other ladies in the ballroom steps away.
He spun her around and around to the tune of the waltz, the strains of which were coming from the ballroom. And when the song was done, he bowed to her just as he would have to any partner. “Thank you for the dance.”
“My pleasure, my lord,” she replied with a curtsy. “I must go.” She lifted her skirts and stepped around him.
“How have you been?” he asked, unable to stop himself.
Let her go.
She stopped short but didn’t turn to face him. “I’ve been…I am well, my lord.”
“I’m pleased to hear that.” Not particularly charming, but he’d lost his head the moment he saw her.
She continued toward the door while Justin turned to face the far wall, his jaw clenched to keep from calling her back.
The door cracked open. Just one more moment. Just one moment more and she’d be gone, and she’d be safe again. Safe from the unholy urge he had to take her in his arms, to kiss her, to touch her, to—
“I heard you’re looking for a wife, my lord.”
Justin closed his eyes and swallowed. So close. Damn it. He’d tried. “Seems such news travels quickly…throughout the entire house.”
“I promise I wasn’t gossiping with the other servants,” she said. “I simply overheard some of them talking downstairs.”
“It’s fine, Madeline,” he replied. He turned toward her and the vulnerable look on her face nearly broke him. “I understand how news travels in a household as large as this one. If I didn’t want it to get out, I shouldn’t have told my mother directly ahead of a ball.”
“So, it’s true?” Was it his imagination or had her voice wavered?
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Why was it so difficult to say the word to her. “Yes,” he finally managed. “It’s true.”
