Page 108 of Courting the Country Miss

Trying not to allow his desperation to show, he said, “I’ll call for you at seven o’clock.”

For a moment, the Leticia he knew and loved emerged and cast him a disbelieving smile. “My, so early for Town hours.”

“Even owls are capable of being awake early mornings—with the proper motivation.” He grinned.

She awarded him a faint smile in return, still two-parts disbelieving. “It’s almost three o’clock in the morning. Let’s make it eight, shall we?”

“Agreed.”

After another smile, she joined her aunt inside. Tristan took a long exhale. He still had much damage to repair, but at least she’d agreed to give him a chance.

A sultry feminine laugh caught his attention. Mrs. Hunter ascended the steps on the arm of a gentleman. Upon reaching the terrace, they shared an intimate smile and parted ways. The gentleman slipped in first, while Mrs. Hunter smoothed a hand over her hair and her gown. As she strode past Tristan, she glanced at him, and paused mid-step.

“Well, Tristan Barrett,” she purred. “You are looking absolutely delicious this evening.” She sauntered to him and draped herself against the balustrade, looking up at him with a sultry glint in her eyes. “I hope you’ll be a gentleman and rescue me from a lonely ride home tonight.”

Tristan stiffened and took a step back from her. How had he ever found such women desirable? “I believe you have already found relief from loneliness this eve.”

“An appetizer. I’d love to make a main course of you.” She touched his lapel and ran her hand up along it to his cravat.

He stiffened. “I must decline.”

Her lazy sensuality increased. “Come home with me for a glass of champagne. Talk to me.”

Tristan pushed off the railing. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hunter, but I am not looking for a dalliance.” He affected a brief bow and strode away as quickly as possible without breaking into a run.

Inside the doors, he ran straight into an older gentleman prowling along the perimeter of the ballroom as if searching for something.

“Forgive me,” Tristan said, stepping back.

The gentleman, elegant and distinguished, with blond hair fading to silver, glanced at him. “No harm done, young man.” He narrowed his eyes at him. “I say, have we met?”

Tristan searched his memory. “I believe so. I’m Tristan Barrett. We were introduced at the benefit ball, I believe.”

“Ah yes. You are the very image of Lord Averston—brothers?”

“Yes, my lord. And you are Lord Tarrington, as I recall.”

“The same. Say, have you seen a bracelet hereabouts? My wife lost hers.”

Tristan drew a breath and collected himself. “No, sir, but I’d be happy to help you search.”

Tarrington nodded. “Good man.”

“Where have you looked so far?” Tristan indicated the floor.

The earl made a gesture. “I started at that far corner.”

Servants also hunted in the near-vacant ballroom, their gaze fixed on the floor.

“The servants might find it if I don’t hurry, and I want to be my lady’s hero, even if I am getting old and gray.” Lord Tarrington winked.

Tristan smiled and joined the search. A moment later, a glittering object caught his gaze. Tristan hurried to it and picked up an emerald bracelet. He carried it back to the earl. “Is this it?”

Tarrington broke into a broad grin. “By jove, it is! Many thanks.”

“My pleasure, sir. Tell your lady you found it so you can be her hero.” Tristan pressed his finger to his lips.

The earl chuckled. “I owe you, son.”