Lord Selwood’s sigh rattled Phoebe’s strained composure. She was already pushing the boundaries of propriety enough to discuss such a personal matter with her stepson’s bachelor friend. The young man must be positively scandalized to hear an older woman, such as herself, speak of taking a lover. But there was something in Selwood’s manner that set her mind at ease and encouraged her to share confidences. Lord Selwood couldn’t be more different than her stepson.
Where Warminster frittered and gossiped about everything, Selwood held his tongue. Unfortunately, Selwood’s physical presence had quite the wrong effect on her nerves. She’d never met a man—and a much younger man at that—who rattled her senses the way he did. One glance from his dark eyes made her long for the intimacies of the bedchamber, no matter her location.
Luckily, Selwood had no idea how she struggled to keep her composure around him. It simply could not be decent for a woman her age to stir with lust for a man so many years younger.
“Secrecy makes your desire a little harder to accommodate. But not impossible.” Selwood glanced about them. “There is one particular gentleman who should be agreeable and willing to meet with you. I assume you’d like something arranged for this evening?”
Phoebe let out the breath she’d held. Despite how wicked the conversation, she was somewhat excited. At least Selwood didn’t consider her desire impossible. How had she thought to encourage a man—the right man—without his insights? “Thank you.”
The young man’s gaze burned with a strange intensity but then he glanced away, shuffling restlessly on his feet. “We should return to the ballroom soon, but are you certain you want such a secretive arrangement? You might never discover whom I send to you.”
“I trust you.” And she did. Of all Warminster’s friends, Lord Selwood’s serious nature set her mind at ease. His friendly presence, his obvious esteem had proven she placed her trust in the right gentleman. It was simply her problem to hide that she desired him.
Selwood offered a little bow. “I’m honored.”
Despite the pleasant civility, Phoebe chuckled.
Selwood offered his usual boyish grin before escorting her inside the ballroom. Many an eye turned in their direction, speculative glances followed them, an old lady on a young man’s arm. Her cheeks heated at the image they must present. She hoped no one ever guessed she lusted for the man at her side. She’d be beyond mortified.
Selwood remained with her when they rejoined her friends, participating in a lively discussion on furnishings that would have bored any other man to tears. The other matrons—pleased to have a young, handsome man join their circle—flirted with him shamelessly. Selwood flattered her friends’ outrageously in return, casting sidelong glances at her when she laughed at her friends blushes. Phoebe found those little looks and flirtatious remarks more than a little disconcerting, yet she couldn’t find the nerve to join in. After a while, Selwood took his leave, wishing them all a pleasant evening.
As he departed, Phoebe followed his retreat. Selwood’s dark form cut a wide path through the gaudily dressed gentlemen in attendance. She let her gaze stray lower, admiring the movement of his muscular thighs encased in dark silk. An unwise wish flittered through her mind. Phoebe cursed her foolishness under her breath as Lord Selwood departed the ballroom with a spring in his step, no doubt eager to find someone younger to charm.
Once his dark head disappeared from sight, anticipation and anxiety clawed at her belly. Could she really go through with this? Could she really make love to a mystery gentleman this very evening?
The gentlemen about her—some wearing more finery than she—didn’t really appeal. Yet she wasn’t acquainted with every man here tonight. Selwood must have someone particular in mind for her midnight rende
zvous.
A trilling laugh grated over Phoebe’s senses as her stepson entered the ballroom with Lady Jocelyn Clifford hanging on his arm. Wonderful. Warminster could parade his future wife on his arm openly before his friends, yet she couldn’t attempt to engage in a clandestine tryst herself without him alerting his oldest friend.
When Warminster became detained in conversation with a somewhat dull-witted acquaintance, Lady Jocelyn approached her, all shy smiles and clinging hands.
“Lady Warminster,” Lady Jocelyn gushed. “You are positively radiant tonight.”
“You are too, my dear. Peach brings out the blue of your eyes.”
Lady Jocelyn bounced on her toes. “Mamma said it was perfect for this evening, and I do agree with her. Yet I wondered if my blue silk might have pleased Lord Warminster more. Did I make the correct choice? I do think you will have the right of it.”
Phoebe recoiled from the girl’s simpering. Would her stepson really tie himself to this brainless, indecisive chit?
Luckily, Warminster’s approach saved her from further conversation.
“Ah, Lady Warminster,” her stepson began, “how are you enjoying the evening?”
“Very well, Warminster. I am amply entertained.” Phoebe glanced about the ballroom. Despite her irritation with him for inflicting Lady Jocelyn on her daily, and sending his friend to spy on her behavior, she would not cause a scene. She had to play along with his charade of worthless fop until the last guest departed. But that moment couldn’t come soon enough. “The evening has been a delight. You must be proud that all your efforts have borne fruit.”
“Yes, my party is an unqualified success.” Warminster chuckled, glancing down at Lady Jocelyn with a smile. Then he leaned closer. “People shall talk of this house party for many years to come. And not because of some petulant, tawdry affair either.”
At the superior glance Warminster cast at her, Phoebe decided she would open her bedchamber door to whatever gentleman Selwood sent her tonight. Yet she affected a laugh as if she agreed with her stepson.
“Have you seen Selwood?”
Given that both Warminster and Lady Jocelyn asked the same question at once, Phoebe felt certain she could be forgiven for gaping. She glanced between them and noticed discomfort on both sides. “I’m unsure. He left the ballroom a short time ago.”
Warminster smiled at the news.
A frown creased Lady Jocelyn’s brow. She sidled up to Warminster. “Is he avoiding me?” she whispered.