Page 9 of Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love 1)

He quickly covered his wife’s body and whispered, “I believe you might have left part of your gown upstairs, my dear.”

Instead of looking chagrined as he’d expected, she turned to him with a bright smile. “Do you like it, my lord?”

Taken aback at her attitude, he said, “’Tis lovely, but I would like it a lot more if there were more of it.”

Again, she stunned him by waving off his concern. “I thought it was perhaps time for a change. I am no longer a young miss.”

Discombobulated, he helped her into the carriage and sat across from her. She didn’t look the least bit concerned that he thought her gown was too revealing. In fact, he was almost sure she seemed pleased by his reaction. This, combined with the condition he’d found her in the other day when she was rushing down Bond Street as if the devil himself were nipping at her heels, disturbed his sense of equanimity.

He’d always been the type of man who knew what to expect and surrounded himself with people he could count on to always do the same thing. The right thing. He settled back in his seat and watched her from underneath shuttered eyelids.

She certainly seemed like Eugenia. She sat ramrod straight, her hands gracefully resting in her lap, a slight smile on her face. The problem was, she didn’t look like Eugenia. The wisps of hair that dangled alongside her face, the two bright spots of red on her cheeks, the brightness and excitement in her eyes. And when she took off that pelisse…

He shook his head. No, she certainly didn’t look like his wife.

They drew up to the front of the Beresford’s townhouse, the carriage slowly rolling along as they awaited their turn to alight. A footman opened the door and Devon jumped down, turning to take Eugenia’s hand. The smile she cast him warmed his insides and made him grin like a schoolboy.

What the devil is the matter with me?

Whatever it was that had overtaken him reared its head once again when they entered the building and she turned her back to the butler to help her remove her pelisse. He had the overwhelming urge to tell her to keep it on. But, she slid out of the garment and turned to him. “Do I look all right?”

Damn, he couldn’t even answer her, his mouth was so dry. She looked stunning. He extended his arm to her. “My dear, you have never looked better.

“Unfortunately,” he muttered under his breath.

They moved to the top of the stairs where the butler announced them. As they made their way down, he was disconcerted to notice all the men who did more than glance in their direction. Some of them were outright ogling. His wife! He pulled her a bit closer and steered her toward the area where the matrons gathered. Where she generally spent her time at the balls they attended.

They had no sooner greeted several of the ladies then Eugenia was swamped by young bucks requesting a dance. This was absurd. She was a married woman. She belonged here with the other matrons, not traipsing all over the ballroom with different men. He waited for her to brush them off—in a very polite way, of course—when she stunned him by smiling at one after another and wrote their names on her dance card.

“My dear, I hope you saved a dance for me,” he said as the last of the men left to seek out their partners for the number the orchestra was just beginning.

“Of course.” She held out her wrist and he signed his name to the second cotillion set. “No waltz?”

She looked at her card and frowned. “I’m afraid not, my lord. It appears they are all taken.”

“But we always share a waltz.” He gritted his teeth and attempted to regain his dignity after sounding like a small child denied a candy stick. Lord Buckley, who’d lingered when the others had left, bowed in Eugenia’s direction. “My dance, I believe, my lady?”

“Yes. It is.” She turned to Devon and tapped his arm with her fan, like some flirting debutante. “I will see you later. I assume you will be enjoying cards?” With that statement, she took Buckley’s arm and left him standing there gaping after her. He turned on his heel and, not too graciously, headed to the card room.

…

Eugenia took a deep breath and then stopped, afraid she would tumble out of her gown. What had she been thinking wearing this? As much as she’d loved the way she looked in her bedchamber mirror, right now she felt as though she stood naked in the ballroom. The neckline of her gown was no lower than any other woman in the room. Except the debutantes, of course. But she felt a definite chill on her chest and worried she might come down with an ague.

The dance began, and she moved carefully, not wanting to expose any more skin than was necessary. Lord Buckley stared at her bosom for so long she felt the need to tap him on the head with her fan to remind him where her face was located.

One thing she did feel good about was Devon’s reaction to her gown. She’d thought when he’d first seen her in the entry hall that he would swallow his tongue. His eyes had bulged out, and he seemed to have had a hard time catching his breath. From what she’d read in her book, those were all good signs.

She and Buckley moved through the steps of the dance, which didn’t allow for much in the way of conversation. That was fine with her. She’d noticed as soon as they went to the dance floor that Devon had headed to the card room but had not looked too happy.

For the first time that she could remember, the time passed rather quickly at a ball.

Even as a debutante, though she had certainly had her admirers, never had her dance card been completely filled. But then that nasty moniker The Ice Queen had seemed to follow her no matter what event she’d attended.

This experience did make her wonder at the shallowness of men, however. Just because she exposed her chest, suddenly she was popular. At this point, after being twirled around the dance floor, occasionally having her foot tread upon, she would much rather sit with the matrons. Her feet hurt, she was very warm, and was quite tired of men staring at her breasts.

The quadrille ended and Mr. Bancroft escorted her from the dance floor. She checked the card dangling from her wrist, and Devon was next. Within seconds he was alongside her. He bowed. “My dance, I believe.”

She smiled at him, grateful for his attendance. “Do you mind terribly if we don’t dance, my lord? My feet are quite tired, and I would prefer a turn around the gardens. Maybe sit for a while?”