“You know why,” was all he answered as he flicked her nose.
“Do I?” She shook her head. “I have no idea why you should wish to avoid me and then seek me out. It seems singularly odd …”
This made him laugh once more. “Right you are, odd indeed, but I decided to give in to temptation this evening.”
“Ah, so then, I am temptation?” Somehow she had found herself and dove right into the flirtation he had offered. This was just for fun. He meant nothing serious, and on that level she was able to respond.
He took off her glove and said, “You will need your fingers if you are to pin up your gown …”
She pulled her fingers away, although it was not what she wanted to do. However, he was correct: she needed to repair her gown. She started the effort, but a moment later he took her fingers again; this time he put them to his lips and whispered low and hungrily, “You are more than temptation … you are dangerous to a man’s peace, but I am certain you have been told that before?”
“Have I?” she countered as she removed her fingers from his hold and returned her gaze to her hem. “I don’t think Otto would call me dangerous.”
“Perhaps not, but I rather think Sir Edward would. Indeed, from what I hear, you have only to move in for the kill …”
***
What had he just said to her? What the devil was wrong with him? The duke chastised himself silently. He had been agitated all week trying to avoid the Lady Babs. He was too attracted to her, and it wouldn’t do. He just did not tamper with innocent young women … but finally he couldn’t stay away and gave in to his need to see her again.
He had finally and at Sir Charles’s insistence decided to make an appearance at the ball this evening. He had no sooner dropped his cloak and hat with the butler than he saw her leave the ballroom. Without thought, he followed her … and now look what had come of it!
From a distance during the last few days, often when she had not even seen him, he had seen her, and he had noticed that Sir Edward Danton was in hot pursuit. Danton was very different than the count, and something about Danton forever hovering over her gnawed persistently inside the duke.
She looked angry now, her eyes glinting with sparks as she put up her chin and answered his remark. “Is that what you hear, your grace?” Her shoulders straightened. “How very entertaining, to be sure.”
She had told him nothing with her retort, and he found himself amused. He put his finger to her chin and said softly, “Yes, I have heard that and … other things …” He allowed his voice to trail off as he baited her.
She was no fool. He saw it at once. She wasn’t taking any bait from him. She gave him a hard look. “And do you listen to idle gossip, your grace—that I have but to move in for the kill? How very vulgar. I would not have believed you would repeat such a thing, but then, I don’t really know you … only the façade you present to the ton.”
He inclined his head “I beg your pardon. I did not realize you had such a high opinion of me, and I admit … that was very vulgar indeed. I do not know what possessed me to say such a thing …”
Still very much in a pet over his words, she seemed about to return a scathing remark, but then she controlled herself and smiled sweetly. “’Tis only what my own father says after all …” She shook her head ruefully.
He wanted to crush her into his arms. Everything about her called on him to touch her, and he found himself supremely irritated when the door opened and the count exclaimed, his eyes round and his tone touched with a bit of surprise, “So—here you are!”
***
/> It was precisely at that moment that Lady Jane took her niece, Miss Bretton, to one side and asked in worried accents, “Where, dearest, can that dratted cousin of yours be?”
Corry laughed and said reassuringly, though she was far from feeling confident about her words, “No doubt, she is just where she should be and with a perfectly good explanation.”
“Humph! Well, try and tell her father that,” snapped Lady Jane.
Corry said dryly but with a sweet smile, “I would, dearest Aunt, if he wanted to know, but I rather think he is too steeped in his cards.”
“Drat the man, ’tis why she is so wild. He never tries to rein that hellcat in until it is too late.”
“Auntie Jane!” Corry objected. “You cannot call Babs a hellcat … she is no such thing.”
“Then where is she? Do you go off where you can’t be seen? No, but leave it to Babs to do so.”
“Well, she certainly is not … er … raising hell. If she had been, we would have already heard about it—”
“And that is another thing,” Lady Jane interjected. “Why are all these fortune hunters sniffing around you? It has something to do with your angel cousin, doesn’t it?” she asked suspiciously.
“Aunt Jane, Farley dotes on me, and he is plump enough in the pocket, isn’t he?” Corry stalled. “And there is Sir Charles, who has been very kind in his attentions, and there is Wendell—”
Her aunt cut her off again. “I ain’t a green girl, dearest. I didn’t say every man waltzing you about was after a fortune you do not have. I asked why men like Colonels Higgens and Chesterfield are forever ringing our doorbell, for they are notorious fortune hunters!”