Staring down at their hands, she examined her feelings Such a riot they were, for all she pretended to him otherwise.Benedict made her feel so much, more than she could have imagined.These lessons had become more than just a friend showing another, had become something she craved.She did not know she even wished to draw Lord Malvern’s attention any longer.
Closing her eyes, she breathed him in.She would not think on it now.Now, she would savour the feel of his big body at her side, his hand in hers, his breath stirring her temple.
They stayed such until they reached the soiree.
Chapter Twelve
The crowd at the Downeys’ ball was so thick, Eleanor could not see the other side of the ballroom.Around her, people conversed and laughed, jostling into each other as others moved through the crowd.A lucky few had escaped to the torch-lit gardens, but it seemed most wished to stay in the crush despite the noise and the heat.
Eleanor stood by the wall, happy to fade into the background a moment or two.She had conversed with several acquaintances, had even danced a few times, but all the while she had been distracted.She could not stop thinking of what she and Benedict had done in the carriage.
They had parted before reaching the Downeys’ house, the carriage rumbling to a stop in a secluded spot to allow Benedict to disembark.He’d done so with an exaggerated kiss to her hand, a wicked grin wreathing his face.He’d assured her he would be well making his way by foot and then he’d strode off, a jaunty whistle underpinning his step.True to his word, he’d arrived without incident, as he now stood with Lady C as they watched Amanda dance with a young gentleman.
She could not look at Benedict, not direct.Every time she did, she saw him gazing up at her from between her thighs, his eyes glittering.If he knew, no doubt his chest would puff, his expression would become arrogant, and then he would tell her in no uncertain terms how he could make her again—
She wrenched her gaze from him.It would do her ill if anyone noticed the heat on her cheeks and the ragged state of her breath.Between his departure from her carriage and her arrival at the ball, she had very firmly resolved not to think on Benedict and their lessons, if they even were lessons any longer.In truth, she could not think of herself performing such acts with anyone but him, let alone the man she had chosen to do them with and whom she found herself less and less interested inclined to do so.
The gentleman in question, the Earl of Malvern, attended the Downey’s ball also.He stood alone at the fringe of the dancing, his gaze locked at something on the other side as he ignored the covert—and not so covert—looks of those around him.He did not appear ill-at-ease but neither did he look wholly comfortable: He held his tall, lean frame with tension, his hands fists behind his back.
Why did he of a sudden attend society events?She’d thought no further than the convenience his attendance afforded her, but he of course had his own reasons to attend.What they could be, she had no idea.For years he had shunned such events, though his title and status would have afforded him invitations no matter his notoriety.
Across the way, Benedict had split off from Lady C only to be swamped by the gaggle of young ladies.He smiled and teased, no doubt making them feel comfortable and at ease.He had that talent, of making one feel the warmth of the whole of his attention.Perhaps even now he spoke with the lady he would one day make his bride.
Her chest hollowed at the thought.
Tearing her gaze away, she focussed again on the earl.Perhaps it was she should approach him.Perhaps she should take the lessons Benedict had taught her and make the earl her lover.
So determined, and decidedly not glancing at Benedict and his gaggle, she made her way to the Earl of Malvern.
As she drew closer, her step faltered.He was taller than she’d realised and took up more space than she’d imagined.No expression drew his face, his gaze unwavering from what he regarded.Now she was closer she could see he looked upon Lady Burfield, three of her five sisters conversing with her.
This could be the worst folly she’d ever pursued.Squaring her shoulders, she screwed her courage.“Lord Malvern,” she said, her voice too high.
His gaze swivelled to her.She blanched.Good lord, his eyes really were the iciest shade of blue.“So good to see you at another event,” she ploughed on.“We have been blessed with your presence of recent times.”
The slightest of frowns creased his brow.“I do not know you.”
His incivility took her breath, but it would not sway her.“No, my lord, we have not before been introduced as we have not attended the same events and you were not present for any of the debutante events I—” Heat flared on her cheeks.Of course they had not attended the same events.He was the dissolute, degenerate Earl of Malvern.He had always run in faster crowds than she could possibly imagine.Just spit it out, Eleanor.“I am Lady Eleanor Penhurst.”
His expression remained like granite, those ice-blue eyes boring into her.
She swallowed.Stomach churning, she tried again.“Is it not a lovely evening?Lady Downey has presented an exceedingly elegant soiree.How are you finding the season, my lord?”
“Much like any other season,” he said, his cold voice clipped and succinct.
She laughed, too high pitched, she knew.“Yes, it is much like that, is it not?The seasons all blend into one another, and I must say I am glad I no longer attract much notice.I am quite happy to be on the fringes, watching the young ladies and gentlemen interact.Maturity affords some privileges, does it not?I have never before considered this and yet—”Eleanor, cease talking.“It is a similar season,” she finished lamely.
Silence fell between them.She shifted under his stare and then let out the breath she hadn’t known she held when his gaze slid from her to Lady Burfield and her sisters once more.
She stood beside him, uncertain if she should stay or she should go and so she stood there in a mire of uncertainty.She had no idea what to say to him, how to engage him, how to turn his stare from icy to interest.When given the opportunity, she was supposed to be charming and dazzling, the earl being immediately charmed and dazzled and of course agreeing to be her lover.The reality was awkward and strange and she wasn’t even certain he had taken note of her name when she had given it.
She found Benedict again.The gaggle still surrounded him but he was paying them no mind, instead looking in her direction.Brows drawn, his gaze shifted between she and the earl, emotion crossing his features too fast for her to read before he caught her looking.His expression cleared and the corner of his mouth tilted up, his expression becoming encouraging as he tipped his chin to her.
Again her chest hollowed.She offered a smile in response, though the shape of it felt wrong on her face.
Turning back to the earl, she tried to remember her lessons, but all she could see was Benedict: his smile, his hand on hers, his mouth brushing the tender flesh of her neck.
Before she could think of something to say, the earl’s gaze sharpened and his eyes became slightly less icy.“I am required elsewhere.Good evening.”Bowing sharply, he strode from her.
