Part 4 (1/2)

”Bon soir,my dear.”

How such simple, innocent words could be made to sound so wicked was a mystery. Was it the light in his blue eyes, the seductive tenor of his voice, or the reined strength in his touch? Helena didn't know, but she did not approve of having her sensual strings so skillfully plucked.

But she continued to smile, and let him stand by her side and join them. When the group dispersed to mingle, she dallied. She knew he was watching, always alert. When, after a fractional hesitation, he offered his hand, she laid her fingers across his with a genuine smile.

They strolled; they had gone only a few yards when she murmured, ”I wish to talk with you.”

She didn't look at his face but was quite sure his lips would have quirked.

”So I had supposed.”

”Is there some place here-in this room-in view of all but where no one will hear?”

”There are open alcoves along one side.”

He led her to one containing an S-shaped love seat, currently empty. He handed her to the seat facing the room, then lounged in the other.

”You perceive me all ears,mignonne .”

Helena narrowed her eyes at him. ”What are you about?”

His finely arched brows rose. ”About?”

”Precisely what do you hope to gain by hounding me in this fas.h.i.+on?”

His eyes held hers, gaze-to-gaze direct, but his lips were not straight. He raised a hand, languidly laid it across his heart. ”Mignonne,you wound me deeply.”

”Would that I could.” Helena held on to her temper-just. ”And I am not yourmignonne !”

Not his pet, not his darling.

He merely smiled-patronizingly-as if he knew so much more than she.

Helena clenched her fingers about her fan and fought the urge to hit him with it. She'd antic.i.p.ated such a response-a nonresponse-and had come prepared. She was, however, surprised by the depth of her irritation, by how easily he could make her temper soar. She was not normally so quick to p.r.i.c.kle, to react.

”As you will no doubt have guessed, omniscient as you are, I am searching for a husband. I am not, however, searching for a lover. I wish to have this clearly understood between us, Your Grace. Regardless of your intent, regardless of your expertise, there is no likelihood whatever that I shall succ.u.mb to your legendary charms.”

She'd heard enough about these from a worried Marjorie and surmised even more from the whispers and wondering looks. Even talking in public as they were-if it weren't for the fact she was twenty-three and highly born, she would have courted the danger of being labeled ”fast.”

Her gaze locked on his, she waited for some flippant response-some taunt, some crossing of swords. Instead, he regarded her thoughtfully, consideringly, letting the moment stretch before fractionally raising his brows. ”You think not?”

”I know not.” It was a relief to grab the conversational reins again. ”There is nothing for you here-no hope at all-so there is no reason for you to cling to my side.”

His lips relaxed into a definite smile. ”I . . . er, cling to your side,mignonne, because you amuse me.” He looked down, resetting the lace spilling over one white hand. ”There are few in the ton who can accomplish that.”

Helena suppressed a snort. ”There are many only too ready to try.”

”Alas, they lack the ability.”

”Perhaps your standards are set too high?”