Lady Blanchett preened and snapped the fan attached to her wrist open with a womanly flourish. “Mr. Seymour, you are incorrigible.”
He winked and glanced at Lady Daniella’s lovely, scowling face before offering another bow. A tip of his hat to his opponent, and a goodbye that left a hollow feeling in his chest he could not fathom. “A pleasure.”
The ballroom’s insufferable heat vanished as soon as he extricated himself from the crowd. Bypassing the main hall, he slipped down a darkened hall and into a central courtyard that would lead him the long way around to the back rooms, and a particular room that adjoined the library from the southern side.
Taking a moment to collect himself—and rid his mind of a particularly distracting pair of eyes—he looked up at the full moon above and breathed in the fresh air and slight dampness from the nearby fountain.
His head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with the heat. Lady Daniella was special. It didn’t take a trained agentto see the confidence in her stance or hear the authority in her speech, none of it to do with position or title.
She was a woman who knew her own mind and spoke it without shame. What a treasure to find in this jungle.
“Ha! I knew it. You aren’t leaving,” a woman said.
Percy snapped out of his reverie and groaned. Here he was too busy imagining plundering the chit to hear she’d followed him. Damn silent slippers. Women should be made to wear boots and bells at all times.
He turned to see Lady Daniella bathed in moonlight, her satin dress looking like waves rippling over her body. His groin went sail taut and mast hard.
“I appear to be lost.” He used his best chagrined smile. “You wouldn’t be able to point me in the direction of a water closet, could you?”
“Are you here to rob Lord and Lady Leishire?”
Percy blinked. No games, no misdirection. Another time, another place, he’d have fallen at her feet and begged for a direct assault. “Lady Daniella, I fear we’ve gotten off on the wrong coconut grove. I am here as a visitor, a friend of—”
“The Duke of Lux. Yes. I met the Duchess of Camine but a quarter of an hour previous. His sister, if I’m not mistaken? I wonder, are you not a friend of hers as well? She took ill on the dance floor and went to a quiet room. But I’m sure you’re aware of that.”
Percy’s gut instincts roared at him to end this conversation now. The gleam in her eye was trouble, not only for the fact that her reputation—like that of all ladies—was as flimsy as crinoline. If they were found here together, in the dark and secluded courtyard, she’d be ruined. What an impetuous creature. Any decent man with sense would have walked out.
He stepped closer. “And what has that got to do with me?”
Her breath hitched at his nearness, and Percy fought the urge to close the remaining inches between them. “Come, then, Lady Daniella. Pray tell, what nefarious deeds am I to commit?”
The lady bit her lip, her confidence slipping for the first time. “Y-You hope to rendezvous with your friend’s sister.”
“You object for morality’s sake?” He smiled at that. “Too bad the lady is very much in love with her husband.”
Pause. “Do you mean to deface Lord Leishire’s home as a political statement?”
“Petty vandalism? Not my style. Try again.”
She scowled, a charming puckering of lips and brows. “You are up to no good, sir. Prevaricate all you like, but there is no use denying it!”
“I’ve no intention to. Please, continue. Shall I rob the baron and baroness of their priceless jewels and paintings?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps.”
“And slip out the backdoor, the pilfered items tucked beneath my arm?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you to leave all the items in the attic and worry the authorities for nothing. Then flee through the garden and ruin Lady Leishire’s prized roses in spite.”
He laughed, unable to hold in his delight. She’d pegged him right. Brazen, insulting—the woman was a revelation. “A capital idea,” he said. He was quite determined to do just as the lady envisioned if there was time. “What a wild life I lead.” He glanced down at his Hessians. “Though my boots would be utterly ruined climbing down the garden trestle.”
“Feign innocence all you like.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her pout indignant. “I see through you, sir.”
He played with a curl that had escaped her coif, no longer able to resist. “Let’s hope that’s not true.”
Her breath hitched at his touch, but her voice remained steady. “You hide behind grins and sarcasm. Your fallacies ofAmerican crops are idiotic. And I’ve never heard an American pronounce ‘America’ in a decidedly English manner.”
Percy flinched. He never could remember to keep his ‘e’s short and nasally when impersonating Westerners. She was a marvel for noticing his perfectly rounded vowels. “Name-calling isn’t nice.”
