odd feeling that the duke was probably the only one of the Cat’s victims who stood a good chance of being able to identify her without her mask.
Perhaps Spencer had taken a fancy to the Cat. The Duke of Spencer in love with a female footpad . . .
Brummell smiled to himself in unholy amusement. The next few weeks should be quite interesting—to say the least.
Chapter Eleven
Spencer had just resigned himself to an evening of boredom when, looking up from the dowager who had claimed his attention, he glanced across the room and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.
She was dressed all in gold, with golden ribbons threaded through her raven hair. She was smiling up at her dancing partner, and even from across the room, Spencer was struck by the brilliance of her eyes.
He felt a touch on his arm and turned to find the dowager regarding him with an indulgent smile. “I see you have noticed my goddaughter, Your Grace. A lovely girl, is she not?”
“Yes,” Spencer replied with a faint smile. “Yes, she is very lovely. I do not believe I have met her.”
The dowager lowered her voice significantly. “Poor little thing. That nasty stepfather of hers has been keeping her in the country all these years, but her mother managed to send her to me two weeks ago. I’d be delighted to present you, Your Grace.”
Spencer inclined his head and followed the dowager across the room. The dance had ended and, as they drew nearer to the girl, Spencer realized what his first impression had been—she was lovely.
Jenny heard Lady Beddington call her name, and turned to see her godmother bearing down on her—with the Duke of Spencer at her side. Jenny’s habitual calm served her well; she was able to smile easily.
Lady Beddington returned the smile, an imp of mischief in her bright blue eyes. “Jenny, I would like to present the Duke of Spencer. Your Grace, my goddaughter, Jennifer Courtenay.”
Jenny extended her hand to the duke, curtsying as she did so. “How do you do, Your Grace?”
The duke bowed low over her hand. “Miss Courtenay, I am delighted to meet you.” The music began, and he continued with a smile, “May I have this dance?”
Jenny responded just as her godmother had taught her. With laughter in her golden eyes, she said, “If you please, sir.”
Spencer led her out onto the floor, feeling oddly light-headed. As he took her into his arms for the waltz, he felt certain that he had met her before. Giving in to impulse, he said, “Miss Courtenay—have we met before?”
Jenny fought down a rising panic and concentrated on keeping her voice light and careless as she replied, “Why, no, Your Grace—I am certain that we have never met. I have only been in London for a week or so.” She gazed up into his eyes and felt absurdly startled to find them smiling down at her. My, but he was big.
“I hesitate to contradict a lady,” he responded, “but, I feel certain that we have met before.”
Jenny called all her acting talents into play. With a brilliant smile, she said, “Perhaps you saw me riding in the park one morning.”
Giving in gracefully, Spencer replied, “Perhaps I did. Do you enjoy riding? I believe that Lady Beddington mentioned you are accustomed to living in the country.”
Jenny felt some of her tension ease. “Why, yes, I am used to riding every day, though I must admit that it seems a trifle tame to be obliged to hold my mount to a gentle canter.”
Spencer smiled sympathetically. “I feel the same way, I assure you. It is especially trying when one’s mount has not been out of the stables in several days.”
Jenny laughed. “Indeed it is. Do you hunt, Your Grace?”
He nodded. “My estate is in the heart of some of the best hunting country in England.” With a smile, he continued, “My mother used to complain that I spent more time on my hunters than I did with my books.”
“My mother used to say the same thing.” She smiled up at him. “I always
Perhaps Spencer had taken a fancy to the Cat. The Duke of Spencer in love with a female footpad . . .
Brummell smiled to himself in unholy amusement. The next few weeks should be quite interesting—to say the least.
Chapter Eleven
Spencer had just resigned himself to an evening of boredom when, looking up from the dowager who had claimed his attention, he glanced across the room and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.
She was dressed all in gold, with golden ribbons threaded through her raven hair. She was smiling up at her dancing partner, and even from across the room, Spencer was struck by the brilliance of her eyes.
He felt a touch on his arm and turned to find the dowager regarding him with an indulgent smile. “I see you have noticed my goddaughter, Your Grace. A lovely girl, is she not?”
“Yes,” Spencer replied with a faint smile. “Yes, she is very lovely. I do not believe I have met her.”
The dowager lowered her voice significantly. “Poor little thing. That nasty stepfather of hers has been keeping her in the country all these years, but her mother managed to send her to me two weeks ago. I’d be delighted to present you, Your Grace.”
Spencer inclined his head and followed the dowager across the room. The dance had ended and, as they drew nearer to the girl, Spencer realized what his first impression had been—she was lovely.
Jenny heard Lady Beddington call her name, and turned to see her godmother bearing down on her—with the Duke of Spencer at her side. Jenny’s habitual calm served her well; she was able to smile easily.
Lady Beddington returned the smile, an imp of mischief in her bright blue eyes. “Jenny, I would like to present the Duke of Spencer. Your Grace, my goddaughter, Jennifer Courtenay.”
Jenny extended her hand to the duke, curtsying as she did so. “How do you do, Your Grace?”
The duke bowed low over her hand. “Miss Courtenay, I am delighted to meet you.” The music began, and he continued with a smile, “May I have this dance?”
Jenny responded just as her godmother had taught her. With laughter in her golden eyes, she said, “If you please, sir.”
Spencer led her out onto the floor, feeling oddly light-headed. As he took her into his arms for the waltz, he felt certain that he had met her before. Giving in to impulse, he said, “Miss Courtenay—have we met before?”
Jenny fought down a rising panic and concentrated on keeping her voice light and careless as she replied, “Why, no, Your Grace—I am certain that we have never met. I have only been in London for a week or so.” She gazed up into his eyes and felt absurdly startled to find them smiling down at her. My, but he was big.
“I hesitate to contradict a lady,” he responded, “but, I feel certain that we have met before.”
Jenny called all her acting talents into play. With a brilliant smile, she said, “Perhaps you saw me riding in the park one morning.”
Giving in gracefully, Spencer replied, “Perhaps I did. Do you enjoy riding? I believe that Lady Beddington mentioned you are accustomed to living in the country.”
Jenny felt some of her tension ease. “Why, yes, I am used to riding every day, though I must admit that it seems a trifle tame to be obliged to hold my mount to a gentle canter.”
Spencer smiled sympathetically. “I feel the same way, I assure you. It is especially trying when one’s mount has not been out of the stables in several days.”
Jenny laughed. “Indeed it is. Do you hunt, Your Grace?”
He nodded. “My estate is in the heart of some of the best hunting country in England.” With a smile, he continued, “My mother used to complain that I spent more time on my hunters than I did with my books.”
“My mother used to say the same thing.” She smiled up at him. “I always
Similar Books
