Part 1 (2/2)
”Why? She's stunning. One of the most enchanting women I've ever beheld. And I believe she goes by her maiden name of Lennox these days.”
”However she's called, she uses men like toys and discards them once they're broken, to say nothing of the fact that she's several years your senior.”
Leo couldn't repress a slowly forming grin as he turned to his twin. ”Just look at her. She can't be that much older, even if she has been married and divorced. As for her using me like a toy, I look forward to being played with. Anywhere. Anytime.”
Lawrence shook his head. ”I'll be the first to admit she's attractive, and I can see why you'd be tempted, but do yourself a favor and find another opera dancer. Or better yet, go visit one of the bawdy houses. You can slake your thirsts there without causing any lasting damage.”
”Ah, but where is the challenge in that?” Leo said. ”I want a woman who can't be had simply for the price of a coin. A spirited female with some good solid kick to her.”
”The only kick you're going to get is in your posterior when she boots you out of her way. My guess is she won't look at you twice.”
Leo raised a brow. ”Oh, she will. Care to wager on it?”
Lawrence narrowed his eyes. ”All right. Ten quid.”
”Make it twenty. Ten's hardly worth the effort.”
”Twenty it is.”
They shook, sealing the bet.
Lawrence stepped back and crossed his arms. ”Go on. Amaze me, Don Juan.”
Leo brushed the sleeves of his coat and tugged its hem to a precise angle. ”Take the carriage home if you get tired of waiting. I'm sure I'll be otherwise occupied tonight.”
With that, he set off in search of his quarry.
I should never have come here tonight, Lady Thalia Lennox thought as she forced herself not to flinch beneath the leering stare of Lord Teaksbury. She didn't believe he had met her eyes once since they had begun conversing.
Old lecher. How dare he stare at my b.r.e.a.s.t.s as if I'm some doxy selling her wares? Then again, after nearly six years of enduring such crude behavior from men of her acquaintance, one would think she would be well used to it by now.
As for the ladies of the Ton, they generally looked through her, as if she were some transparent ghost who had drifted into their midst. Or worse, they pointedly turned their backs. She had grown inured to their snubs as well-for the most part, at least.
Still, she had hoped tonight might prove different, since her host, the Marquess of Elmore, had known his own share of personal pain and tended to acquire friends of a more liberal and tolerant persuasion. But even here, people saw her not for the person she was, but for who they a.s.sumed her to be.
Ordinarily, she tossed aside invitations such as the one for tonight's supper party-not that she received all that many invitations these days. But she supposed the real reason she had come tonight was a simple enough one.
She was lonely.
Her two friends, Jane Frost and Mathilda Cathcart-the only ones out of all her acquaintance who had stuck by her after the divorce-were in the countryside. They had each invited her to join them at their separate estates, but she knew her attendance at the usual autumn house parties put each woman in an awkward and difficult position. Plus, neither of their husbands approved of their continued a.s.sociation with her, their friends.h.i.+p limited to occasional quiet meals when they were in Town, and the back-and-forth exchange of letters.
No, she was quite alone and quite lonely.
Ironic, she mused, considering the constant parade of lovers she supposedly entertained-at least according to the gossip mavens and scandal pages that still liked to prattle on about her. Given their reports of her behavior, one would imagine her town house door scarcely ever closed for all the men going in and out-or perhaps it was only her bedroom door that was always in need of oil for the hinges?
She felt her fingers tighten against the gla.s.s of lemonade in her hand, wondering why she was dwelling on such unpleasantness tonight. Better to put thoughts like those aside, since they did nothing but leave the bitter taste of regret in her mouth.
A hot bath and a good book-that's what I need this evening, she decided. That, and to tell the old reprobate still leering at her to take his eyes and his person somewhere else.
If only she hadn't given in to the temptation to wear emerald green tonight, perhaps she wouldn't have ended up being ogled by a loathsome toad like Teaksbury. But she'd always loved this dress, which had been languis.h.i.+ng in the back of her wardrobe for ages. And honestly she was tired of being condemned no matter what she wore or how she behaved. In for a penny, in for a pound, she'd thought when she made the selection. Now, however, she wished she'd stuck to her usual somber dark blue or black, no matter how dreary those shades might seem.
Ah well, I shall be leaving shortly, so what does it really matter?
”Why, that's absolutely fascinating,” Thalia said with false politeness as she cut Teaksbury off midsentence. ”You'll have to excuse me now, Lord Teaksbury. After all, I wouldn't want to be accused of monopolizing your company tonight.”
Teaksbury opened his mouth-no doubt to a.s.sure her that he didn't mind in the least. But she had already set down her gla.s.s, turned on a flourish of emerald skirts and started toward the door.
She had made it about a quarter of the length of the room when a tall figure stepped suddenly into her path, blocking her exit. She gazed up, then up again, into a boldly masculine face and a pair of green-gold eyes that literally stole her breath. The man sent her a das.h.i.+ng, straight-toothed smile, candlelight glinting off the burnished golden brown of his casually brushed hair in a way that only increased his appeal.
Saints above, she thought as her heart knocked hard inside her chest, her pulse leaping as it hadn't leapt in years-if it ever had at all.
Schooling her features so they revealed none of her inner turmoil, she gave him a polite nod. ”Pardon me, sir.” She waited, expecting him to step aside.
Instead, he executed an elegant bow. ”Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Leopold Byron. My intimates, however, call me Leo.”
Arrogant, isn't he? Well, she'd met arrogant men before, many times.
She gave him a long, cool stare. ”Do they? How nice for them. Now I must insist you step aside. We haven't been properly introduced. As you ought to know, a gentleman never speaks directly to a lady with whom he is not acquainted. Pity one of your intimates isn't here to do the honors. Good evening.”
She took a step to the right.
He matched her move, impeding her path once again. ”Shall I go find our host, then?” he asked pleasantly. ”I'm sure Elmore would be happy to affect an introduction. Frankly, though, it seems like a great lot of bother, particularly since we are conversing already.”
Reaching toward the tray of a pa.s.sing servant, he picked up two gla.s.ses. ”Champagne?” he offered. Smiling that devastating smile again, he held out one of the crystal flutes with its golden draught effervescing inside.
Audacious as well as arrogant. That and handsome in a sinful way no man had a right to be.
Call me Leo, indeed.
She didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused, particularly since she was sure part of his strategy in waylaying her was to provoke a strong reaction. Still, she found herself accepting one of the proffered gla.s.ses, if for no other reason than to give herself time to steady her nerves.
”Since I doubt you'll volunteer your name, not without Elmore's aid at least,” Lord Leo continued, ”I suppose I must try guessing on my own. Lady Thalia Lennox, is it not?”
The wine suddenly turned sour on her tongue.
Of course, she realized, she ought to have known that he was only playing games and knew her by reputation. Everyone in the Ton did, it seemed-even if they wouldn't a.s.sociate with her any longer. ”Then you have me at even more of a disadvantage than I realized.”
”Not at all, since we have only just met and need time to learn about one another.”
”I am sure you've heard all you need to know about me. Divorce trials will do that for a woman. Now, if you'll-”
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