an awful, awful man, Lucien,” she sputtered. “If you weren’t my relation, I would positively hate you.”
“I assure you, the feeling is—”
“You shall be the prettiest young lady at dinner, Rose,” Alexandra interrupted. “Feathers, or not. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Is that so?” Lucien countered, annoyed at having several promising insults stifled.
Miss Gallant glared at him, looking every inch the offended governess despite her becoming gown. “Yes, it is. First impressions are lasting impressions, my lord, as you well know. All Rose needs to do is make a positive first impression.”
Her comment reminded him of his first impression of her, and returned him to the contemplation of how much he would like to slip her out of her gloves and her daintypearled shoes and her exquisite gown and run his hands along her soft, warm skin. A slow smile curved his lips.
The coach rocked to a halt, jarring Lucien out of his reverie. Bringing his lust back under control, he helped his aunt and his cousin to the ground. Miss Gallant came last, and he noted her hesitation before she accepted his hand and descended the steep carriage steps to the ground. He leaned closer, curling his fingers around hers. “You mesmerize me,” he murmured.
“You like to make trouble,” she returned, freeing her fingers—but not before he felt their trembling. Alexandra caught up to Rose at the front entry, wrapping her arm around the younger woman’s.
Her reaction to his touch distracted him from replying. Sweet Lucifer, he wanted her in his bed. As he had no intention of escorting his aunt, he followed the ladies inside. Again his gaze found Alexandra, straying to her green and white skirt as it swayed from side to side with the movement of her slender, rounded hips.
The butler, polite and hardly shocked at all to see the Earl of Kilcairn Abbey on his doorstep, led their group upstairs to the drawing room. They paused in the doorway, and Lucien stifled a curse.
Miss Gallant stirred at his elbow. “You said this was to be a small gathering,” she whispered.
“It is, by London standards,” he lied, and stepped forward to greet Lord and Lady Howard.
He didn’t like being outmaneuvered, but tonight that had obviously happened. Half a hundred guests, nearly twice what he’d anticipated, milled about in the Howard drawing room and spilled over into the adjoining music room and library. He hadn’t known so many of them were even in town this early in the Season. And he certainly wasn’t naive enough to pretend that he had noidea about the cause of the sudden hush and then the excited chattering that filled the room as his party entered.
“Lord Howard, Lady Howard,” he said in a mild tone, though he would have been perfectly happy to strangle either or both of them, “I’d like to present Mrs. Delacroix, Miss Delacroix, and my cousin’s companion, Miss Gallant.”
“We are so pleased to meet you,” Lady Howard gushed, taking Rose’s hands and all but ignoring Aunt Fiona. “You must know, Miss Delacroix, everyone has been dying to set eyes on you.”
Rose curtsied, blushing, and with a heavy sigh Lucien waited for the stammering and the tears to begin. The lack of mortified embarrassment had been enjoyable for the short time it lasted.
“You have a lovely home,” his cousin said in an unsteady voice. “Thank you for having us here.”
Lucien stepped back beside Alexandra. “By God, she can be taught.”
“Hush. You might have warned me you were going to make a spectacle out of her presentation. Directly after dinner Mrs. Delacroix will have to claim a headache. Rose will never make it through twenty women chattering at her.”
The glance she sent him made it quite clear that she expected him to see to Aunt Fiona’s poor health. No one—and no woman, certainly—had ever ordered him to do anything. Nevertheless, he gave her a slight nod. “I have no wish to suffer through this, either. For
“I assure you, the feeling is—”
“You shall be the prettiest young lady at dinner, Rose,” Alexandra interrupted. “Feathers, or not. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Is that so?” Lucien countered, annoyed at having several promising insults stifled.
Miss Gallant glared at him, looking every inch the offended governess despite her becoming gown. “Yes, it is. First impressions are lasting impressions, my lord, as you well know. All Rose needs to do is make a positive first impression.”
Her comment reminded him of his first impression of her, and returned him to the contemplation of how much he would like to slip her out of her gloves and her daintypearled shoes and her exquisite gown and run his hands along her soft, warm skin. A slow smile curved his lips.
The coach rocked to a halt, jarring Lucien out of his reverie. Bringing his lust back under control, he helped his aunt and his cousin to the ground. Miss Gallant came last, and he noted her hesitation before she accepted his hand and descended the steep carriage steps to the ground. He leaned closer, curling his fingers around hers. “You mesmerize me,” he murmured.
“You like to make trouble,” she returned, freeing her fingers—but not before he felt their trembling. Alexandra caught up to Rose at the front entry, wrapping her arm around the younger woman’s.
Her reaction to his touch distracted him from replying. Sweet Lucifer, he wanted her in his bed. As he had no intention of escorting his aunt, he followed the ladies inside. Again his gaze found Alexandra, straying to her green and white skirt as it swayed from side to side with the movement of her slender, rounded hips.
The butler, polite and hardly shocked at all to see the Earl of Kilcairn Abbey on his doorstep, led their group upstairs to the drawing room. They paused in the doorway, and Lucien stifled a curse.
Miss Gallant stirred at his elbow. “You said this was to be a small gathering,” she whispered.
“It is, by London standards,” he lied, and stepped forward to greet Lord and Lady Howard.
He didn’t like being outmaneuvered, but tonight that had obviously happened. Half a hundred guests, nearly twice what he’d anticipated, milled about in the Howard drawing room and spilled over into the adjoining music room and library. He hadn’t known so many of them were even in town this early in the Season. And he certainly wasn’t naive enough to pretend that he had noidea about the cause of the sudden hush and then the excited chattering that filled the room as his party entered.
“Lord Howard, Lady Howard,” he said in a mild tone, though he would have been perfectly happy to strangle either or both of them, “I’d like to present Mrs. Delacroix, Miss Delacroix, and my cousin’s companion, Miss Gallant.”
“We are so pleased to meet you,” Lady Howard gushed, taking Rose’s hands and all but ignoring Aunt Fiona. “You must know, Miss Delacroix, everyone has been dying to set eyes on you.”
Rose curtsied, blushing, and with a heavy sigh Lucien waited for the stammering and the tears to begin. The lack of mortified embarrassment had been enjoyable for the short time it lasted.
“You have a lovely home,” his cousin said in an unsteady voice. “Thank you for having us here.”
Lucien stepped back beside Alexandra. “By God, she can be taught.”
“Hush. You might have warned me you were going to make a spectacle out of her presentation. Directly after dinner Mrs. Delacroix will have to claim a headache. Rose will never make it through twenty women chattering at her.”
The glance she sent him made it quite clear that she expected him to see to Aunt Fiona’s poor health. No one—and no woman, certainly—had ever ordered him to do anything. Nevertheless, he gave her a slight nod. “I have no wish to suffer through this, either. For
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