The Outrageous Debutante by Anne O'Brien Page B

touch of her fingers on his arm. When he raised a hand to loosen the strings of her mask she made no resistance.
    ‘Well, Miss Wooton-Devereux. I should never have known it to be you.’ He removed his own mask.
    ‘Your disguise was perfect, my lord.’
    He bent his head and kissed her. A brush of lips against lips, soft as a sigh. Then he raised his head to look at her. ‘I should not have done that.’ A sardonic smile touched his austere features.
    ‘Did you not wish to do so, my lord?’
    ‘Why … Yes. I did. Very much.’ It was an admission to himself as much as to the lady.
    ‘And I should not have allowed it.’ Obviously a night for admissions.
    He kissed her again, savouring the warm softness of her lips as he increased the pressure. She was quite irresistible.
    And Theodora was breathless. ‘I am very glad that you did. How forward I am tonight! There is no hope for me. My reputation will be quite ruined.’
    ‘Do you often allow gentlemen to kiss you?’ Nicholas found himself asking. Part humour, part unease at her flippancy. Her answer suddenly mattered very much.
    Serious, deadly serious, Theodora raise a hand to touch his lips ‘Oh, no. Not at all. Do you often kiss ladies in Vauxhall Gardens, my lord?’
    Well, he had deserved that, had he not?
    ‘Certainly not! So, since neither of us is in the general way of kissing other people … I will kiss you again, Theodora, if it pleases you.’
    ‘Yes, Nicholas, it does.’
    So he did. His hands tightened over the silk at her shoulders, to draw her closer so that his arms could enfold, his lips take possession. Still persuasive against her soft mouth, still gentle, a promise rather than a demand. But he felt her shiver against him. And Theodora could think of nothing but the incredible sensation of being kissed until sparkling bubbles raced through her blood, as fine as any of the champagne she had drunk that night. Was aware of nothing but the heat that spread its fingers from the region of her heart to every extremity. Her experience of life had never prepared her for anything such as this. If she were breathless before, now she was positively light-headed.
    Much as Lord Nicholas was stunned by his reaction to this delightful creature who melted into his embrace and returned his kisses with such sweetness. He wanted her. Wanted to touch her. Wanted her for his own. He thought it would be the easiest thing in the world to fall in love with her.
    Which exactly mirrored Theodora’s thoughts.
    Her mother would indeed have been horrified.

Chapter Five
    ‘W e need to talk, Hector.’
    Because his wife, always an exemplary diplomat’s wife, rarely interrupted him when he had urgent business to complete, Sir Hector put down his pen and held out his hand in welcome to Lady Drusilla. She had come to a halt just inside the door of the library in Upper Brook Street.
    ‘What is it, my love? I thought you were already gone—I forget where, but somewhere with Thea.’
    ‘No. I have sent Thea off with Lady Beatrice and Judith. I need to talk with you and it would be better if Thea were not here.’
    ‘Very well.’ Sir Hector now saw the strain on his wife’s face, so immediately rose to his feet and approached to draw her into the room. ‘What has happened to put such a heavy line between your brows.’ He rubbed at it with his thumb in a quaint gesture of deep affection. ‘Is it Thea? What has she done now?’
    ‘No, it is not Thea—well, yes, it is, in a way.’ Drusilla caught her bottom lip with her teeth and sighed as if at the culmination of much painful thought. ‘We have to tell her, Hector.’
    ‘Hmm!’ Hector drew his wife to sit beside him on the sofa before the empty fire grate. ‘But why?’ It was clear that he knew beyond question the cause of her distress and the meaning behind her enigmatic statement. ‘We have kept it close for solong—all of twenty-one years. As you wished. Why stir up the mud in that particular pond