A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Of course he was! Mr Lockhart had chosen her because she resembled the previous candidate.

Heat crept up Claudia’s neck to burn her cheeks, punishment for believing Mr Lockhart’s lofty praise of her character. If she hadn’t already made a pact with one devil—in promising to marry Mr Thorncroft—she would have gathered her valise and taken the next mail coach home.

But there was more at stake than her fragile pride.

Claudia needed the seventeen hundred pounds he had promised. Emily needed a sister with the strength and courage to see this task through, not one whose vanity had led her to believe the gentleman held her in high regard.

“Nevertheless,” Claudia began, resigned to take her role seriously, “we won’t know if the dress fits if I do not try it on.”

If Mr Lockhart wanted a devoted wife, that’s what he would get. Claudia would give a performance worthy of royal patronage, a performance to show him she was far from second best.

Chapter Seven

“What the hell’s keeping her?” Lockhart muttered to himself as he paced the hall, stopping every few steps to examine his pocket watch should the long-case clock need winding.

Perhaps the dress she’d chosen for the masquerade needed extensive alterations.

Perhaps Miss Darling’s courage had abandoned her at this crucial stage.

He was about to mount the stairs, hunt her down and berate her for her tardiness when the sound of feminine laughter reached his ears. The hushed mutterings of a conversation—thank you being the only audible words—preceded the rustle of material.

Lissette appeared. She descended the stairs wearing a mischievous grin—the look of a woman who had a secret she was desperate to tell. The maid curtsied when she reached the hall before disappearing through the door leading down to the kitchen.

Somewhat confused by Lissette’s excited expression, Lockhart’s attention swept back to the stairs.

The seconds ticked.

He watched and waited.

His heart pounded hard in anticipation.

With the slow, graceful steps of a duchess, Miss Darling approached the stairs in a breathtaking gown of cerulean blue. Her golden hair was swept up in an elegant coiffure. One long curl snaked around her neck to dangle seductively over her shoulder. The minx kept her mask high to hide her face. Lockhart didn’t know if her eyes swam with excitement or fear, not until she descended the stairs with a sensual sway, trailing her fingers down the length of the bannister like a skilled temptress might tease a man’s throbbing shaft.

Lockhart held his breath.

For one so innocent, Miss Darling certainly knew how to seduce her husband.

She stopped on the bottom stair so that they were almost eye level.

“The peacock reveals his fan in a display of courtship,” he said, hoping to prompt her to lower her mask. “From your choice this evening, I can only surmise that you intend to woo me, my darling.”

Her blue eyes sparked to life, the hue enhanced by the teal gems covering the bronze mask. “I wish for every person in the ballroom to know how much I desire my husband. Is that not what this evening is about?”

The evening was about shocking his brother and wiping the arrogant grin off his face, about proving Selina had a heart of stone. So why did it cross his mind to capture Miss Darling in his arms and remain at home?

?

?Then before we leave for Comte de Lancey’s masquerade, lower your mask and permit me to judge your ability to rouse a reaction.”

He was confident she would rise to the challenge.

“Very well.” The lady lowered her mask in the teasing way a courtesan might slip out of a silk chemise.

Something had changed during the hours she had spent alone with Lissette. It had nothing to do with the magnificence of her gown, or the way the sapphire comb sparkled in her blonde hair. It had nothing to do with the scandalously low neckline that offered him an opportunity to admire her ample breasts.

No, the lady had a steely look in her eyes, harder, more determined than before. Her resolute chin looked capable of sustaining more than a few knocks.

Miss Darling had slipped into the role of his wife as easily as any skilled actress, and yet in doing so she had lost something of herself, lost the innocence he found just as fascinating.