“No,” she answered and looked away.
“I do,” he said simply, if only to tease a smile out of her for himself. It was very irritating to see her trying to appear casual as she looked back at the picnic area, as though looking for someone. She spun her head back, and her gaze raked his face.
“Oh no—I mean … who …?”
An absurd suspicion crossed his mind. He had learned that his lady love enjoyed reading and writing. He had learned that she had published an article or two whilst at school, and recently in a few unguarded moments she had expressed her love of writing. She had quickly waved it all off as nonsense, and he had taken it as such, but now … his interest was fairly caught.
Later, after they returned to the party from their walk, he could not help but notice that she looked dissatisfied, even with her Otto and that other, Sir Charles, in attendance. He noticed her still looking down the wide, sandy trail that led to the road. Who had she been looking for?
Eight
THE
RUTLEDGE BALLROOM was full to overflowing, and the evening hour still early at ten o’clock!
Babs noted all the women in their finery and jewels, candles sparkling, and people twirling about the dance floor, but her heart sank. Wildfire (as she had come to think of him) hadn’t arrived. He hadn’t been at the picnic earlier that day, and Sir Charles had said he rather thought he would be there. Now, once again her hopes were dashed as she saw no sign of him. She was definitely beginning to feel blue-deviled.
Beau Brummell strolled in and cast his comments on the wind, for he was at outs with the Prince Regent and was bold enough to remark upon it in public. Thus, laughter and whispers already abounded.
If that was not enough, Byron entered the chamber with his half-sister, Augusta, on his arm; a barely audible gasp went around the room. Things certainly appeared as though they were heating up, but not for Babs, who moved about restlessly and disinterested in everything.
She escaped the ballroom undetected and went for a bit of a walk from room to room, if only to work off her agitation and disappointment. She was just about to step outside for some air when she felt the hem of her gown being tugged and heard the unmistakable sound of ripping material.
“How clumsy of me.” It was quietly said as a white-gloved hand reached out gently to take hold of her bare elbow, for she had tripped during the incident and was unsteady.
Faith! A shivering burst of energy shot through her at the sight, sound, scent of him so near. What was wrong with her? She really did not even know him—did she? No, she was blistering with desire and moving along on female instinct. What should she say? If Otto had ripped her gown, she would have laughed and called down abuses on his head. When she opened her mouth, absolutely nothing came out. OH, eeek—he must think me an idiot! Finally she choked out, “Oh … it is nothing … really.”
They both regarded the fine, soft material of her blue gown and the enormous length of material that had been yanked away from it to hang sloppily on its own.
He said, “This is all my fault—I wanted to catch up to you before you were out of sight and stepped forward too quickly. Please allow me to help you make repairs to your gown.”
He was so cool, so collected, so … oh so charming. His deep blue eyes caught and held her for a long moment, and she felt herself blush. “I … I have some pins …” She shook her sequined reticule hanging from her gloved wrist for emphasis.
He towered over her. His scent was masculine, and she felt light-headed. He spoke softly, only to her. “Pins, just what we need to set us on our way …” A teasing quality coated his voice, and as she looked into those blue eyes she felt lost. What was wrong with her? She had to get control over her fanciful state of mind.
He already had her gloved hand and led her to a nearby door. He opened it, peered within, and exclaimed with relief, “I don’t think we will be interrupted in here …”
She followed him within and noted that he was careful to close the door after her. She felt herself tremble with anticipation.
It flashed through her mind that Corry would look for her. Here she was alone with the duke … with … oh, faith, she couldn’t get past the thought and had to get control of her fluttering stomach!
The study they found themselves in was dimly lit. He took up residence on the sofa and urged her with a tug of her hand to do the same. She did.
He bent and held up the hem of her gown, neatly displaying her ankles. Once again, she felt the heat in her cheeks.
After a moment’s appraisal he said, “This will take some work!” He frowned and added, “I do hope you will be able to see in this dim light?”
What had he said? He hoped she could see? Work? See—work, ha! She couldn’t even breathe. She could feel her knees shaking, so it was an excellent thing that she was sitting. His nearness was driving her mad. This was absurd. He was a man, only a man …
Their eyes met and locked.
His smile was quick before he told her, “I was hoping to see you this evening, Lady Babs.” His tone was low and seductively thrilling.
“Why?” Babs was ever direct as she looked at him straightforwardly in a manner peculiar to herself.
He laughed out loud and surprised her by saying, “Damn if I know … for I have been at pains to avoid you.”
“Why?” she repeated as she realized that she had to breathe and did in fact take in a long gulp of air.