An Escapade and an Engagement by Annie Burrows Page B

appeared to welcome his
suit had blown up in his face. Spectacularly.
    He had only taken her for a drive once in Hyde Park—but she had
never gone driving with any other man. Whenever he approached her in a ballroom
he got a polite smile, and the pleasure of her company for a stroll about the
room—whereas she sent every other petitioner about his business.
    And then she’d accepted a seat in his private box at the
theatre. He should have known from the amount of interest each of them had
garnered individually at Lucy Beresford’s come-out ball that speculation would
rise to fever pitch when they were seen together.
    He had wanted to hit somebody. Thrash them. Only he was not
quite sure upon whom to focus his anger. The men who’d made the repulsive wager,
himself for making her the subject of vulgar speculation or Lieutenant Kendell
for being the man with whom Lady Jayne was secretly already in love.
    Ever since that night he’d stood beneath her window, savouring
the miraculous effect she’d had on his manhood, he’d been having the most
disturbingly explicit dreams about her. Dreams from which he woke in a tangle of
sheets, covered in sweat and rock-hard. And every time they’d met since then his
physical response to her had grown stronger.
    But it wasn’t merely lust. The more he got to know her, the
more he liked her as a person, too. Even when her behaviour irritated him he
could see that she was acting from motives he couldn’t help admiring.
    Worst of all was the fact that every other woman paled into
insignificance in comparison with her. He’d hoped that since she’d resurrected
his interest in sex he might be able to divert it to some other suitable
female.
    No such luck. She was the only woman he wanted to haul into his
arms and kiss into submission.
    And, to his annoyance, just lately he’d begun to daydream about
the various ways a man could permanently dispose of a rival in a crowded city
like London. Kendell would not pose much of a challenge. He might wear a
uniform, but he’d never got it dirty. And he wouldn’t be expecting a physical
attack…
    Though his murderous daydreams always ended the same way. With
Lady Jayne finding out what he’d done—for she was so bright she was bound to—and
cheering as he was led to the gallows.
    And she would. She didn’t like him. He’d thought she had begun
to soften towards him a little, but since the theatre trip there had been a
definite withdrawal. The few times he’d managed to insist they spend some
moments together her smiles had been forced, rather than natural. And, no matter
how much he’d goaded her, he hadn’t been able to rouse her from her
abstraction.
    Why should it feel so important to try, anyway? He’d come to
Town to find a wife. Surely amongst the gaggle of girls on the catch for a
husband there must be one who could oust Lady Jayne
from the forefront of his mind?
    But he could not face another night of searching in vain for
some elusive quality that would raise one of this Season’s debutantes above the
average. He could not stomach one more stuffy ton event, where everyone was on their best behaviour and nobody said or did
anything real.
    For just one night he needed to behave disgracefully. To get
more than a little drunk and dance with a dozen women of the kind who would not
take his interest in their charms as a prelude to a marriage proposal. Maybe
even kiss one or two of them if he felt like it and they showed willing. And
hopefully break the incomprehensible hold Lady Jayne had over him.
    The Lambournes’ masquerade promised exactly the kind of mild
debauchery he was seeking.
    Almost immediately upon his arrival he’d begun to pursue a
shepherdess whose main attraction had been a gown that was so low-cut he could
actually see the outer edges of her nipples. He’d just persuaded her onto the
dance floor and into his arms when he’d heard Milly laugh.
    Since he hadn’t expected her to gain entry to an event like
this