He assisted first Miss Roslyn and then Miss Lilian from the barouche, then offered his hand to Arabella. Accepting it, she stepped down into the circle of his waiting arms, her expression radiant with love as she gazed back at him.
But while Marcus only had eyes for his bride, Drew couldn’t take his gaze off the fair-haired Roslyn. He would never forget that exquisitely memorable face, even though he’d been afforded only a fleeting glimpse of it in the moonlight.
She was the same woman. The mysterious beauty who had turned down his offer the night of the Cyprians’ ball.
Hell and the devil!
She kept her eyes carefully averted from him as she stood to one side, waiting for the rest of the bridal party to alight from the other carriages. But when Drew slowly descended the church steps, she stole a glimpse at him. The faint blush that stained her cheeks would have confirmed his suspicions, yet he didn’t need that telltale sign to know he wasn’t mistaken.
Miss Roslyn Loring indeed was his mystery woman.
She was currently garbed in an Empire-waisted gown of rose-hued silk, not a provocative shepherdess’s costume. But her distinctive loveliness couldn’t be disguised by a wig or a mask. And even if he hadn’t seen her entire face that night, he would recognize that luscious mouth anywhere. He had kissed that delicious mouth, tasted those ripe breasts, felt that slender, arousing body pressed against his…
His loins stirring in remembrance, Drew slowly advanced upon Roslyn, while annoyance and anger warred with surprise inside him. The elusive Cyprian who had left him intrigued and enchanted that night was not only a genteel lady, but the ward of his best friend.
What the devil had she been doing at a notorious ball for lightskirts? Was she merely kicking up a lark or searching for more sinful pleasures?
Whatever her purpose for attending, it could have spelled disaster for him. He damned well would have compromised her if they’d simply been discovered alone together in such a place. And if he had succeeded in actually seducing her as he’d wanted…It didn’t bear thinking on.
Drew clenched his jaw. At least her identity explained why she had run from him the moment she saw him-because she didn’t want him to recognize her later. At his approach now, Roslyn pressed her lips together stoically, apparently resigned to formally meeting him.
He was saved from having to request an introduction when Marcus stepped forward to present the bridal party: Arabella’s two sisters, her mother and stepfather, and some of her close friends and neighbors, including the patroness of the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies where all the Loring sisters taught.
Drew was interested in only one person, however. He stopped before Roslyn, deliberately holding her gaze as he took her gloved hand to offer her a bow.
At the contact, tension, hot an
d rapid as summer lightning, arced between them. Giving him a startled look, she withdrew her hand quickly, while Drew cursed under his breath. His damned loins had tightened in response to merely touching her. Utterly inappropriate, given her status, but the instantaneous spark of desire he’d felt for her that moonlit night was still deplorably potent.
He kept his own expression cool when he said, “You look familiar, Miss Roslyn. Have we met before?”
Her chin lifted slightly at his mocking query, yet she didn’t reply directly. “I believe I would remember meeting you, your grace.”
Her voice held the same honeyed warmth he recalled, but Drew fought the allure, just as he tried to ignore her startling beauty. In the morning sunlight, Roslyn looked fresh and lovely as a dew-speckled rose. Of course, the last time he’d seen her, she had looked deliciously wanton.
When her gaze dropped to his mouth, he knew she was recalling precisely what had happened between them that night, as he was.
Her eyes were blue, he noted-a warm sky blue-while her face was a classically shaped oval.
“I’m certain we must have crossed paths before,” he mused.
“Surely you are mistaken.”
At her prevarication, his patience faded. Lightly grasping her elbow, he urged Roslyn aside a few paces, so as not to be overheard by her relatives and friends. “Does Danvers approve of your dangerous escapade?”
The flush returning to color her cheeks, she conceded the futility of denying their meeting any longer by giving a small sigh. “Lord Danvers doesn’t know about my escapade…and I don’t intend to tell him.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t wish to distract him when he and my sister are celebrating their nuptials.”
Drew favored her with a piercing look that had been known to make most mortals quake. “I expect an explanation, sweeting.”
Roslyn arched a slender eyebrow. “Do you indeed?” When he remained sternly silent, she responded pleasantly, “My reasons are my own, your grace, and none of your affair.”
“Perhaps so, but when the ward of one of my closest friends is offering herself for sale, I think he has a right to know about it.”
Roslyn’s blue eyes flashed at him. “I am not in that particular trade, I assure you.”