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Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

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Four

GENTLY DEPOSITED WITHIN the confines of the luxurious coach, Babs was able to take stock of her companions and come to grips with her latest adventure—which her father would call yet another scrape.

Thanks to Sir Charles and his companion, she thought to herself, she had just avoided a bit of a scandal.

Her manner had always been open and forthright, and so she appraised, admired, and twinkled as her lips formed a heartfelt smile. Her first impression of Sir Charles’s friend was that he was devilishly good looking. Her second glance told her that he was more, so much more than just good looking. He was probably the most attractive man she had ever seen!

His black hair that peeped beneath the confines of his top hat seemed to sparkle with midnight stars, so rich was its shine. His blue eyes were bright and full of laughter. He was tall, so very tall, and his broad shoulders were certainly Corinthian in style.

She became suddenly aware of her own appearance and adjusted her bonnet, which had fallen off center, and patted her own black curls into place. She saw that he was watching her, and this made her blush.

“What a dreadful muddle. I can’t wonder what you must think. Poor Otto, I mean, Count Stauffenberg …” She frowned and clucked her tongue. “I feel a bit badly just running off and leaving him in such a mess.”

And then Sir Charles, who had looked back to see Otto flinging his arms about as the steering wheel was taken out of his grip by one of the beadles, exclaimed, “Dash it! Better …” His words trailed off as he rushed back into the crowd.

***

The duke listened to Babs explain how Otto came to be on the runaway vehicle. As he watched the flitting expressions cross her beautiful face, he found himself momentarily mesmerized. It occurred to him that her skin was quite a lovely shade of cream touched with a flush of peach, and that her dark eyes were hypnotically alive, but what a little imp she certainly was! Most maids of her set would have been swooning to find themselves in such a tangle.

He was called Wildfire for many reasons, one of them being the speed with which he went through the ladies … leaving them long before any particular one became attached. His conquests in the battlefield and the ballroom rivaled one another to be sure, but as he watched the expressions flit across Lady Babs’ face, he found himself intrigued.

“This Otto …” he inquired gently, “a relation, no doubt?”

She giggled, and his eyes once again were drawn to her rosy lips that he thought a perfect shape. He watched as she composed herself and answered, “No, a friend—a very dear friend,” and then quickly added, “Where is Sir Charles?”

The duke smiled to himself. Apparently she had been flustered if she was only just noting that Charles was absent.

“He’ll be along any minute … I’m certain he just wanted to be sure, your … er, friend managed.”

“Oh, Chuck is the best of good gentlemen,” she said and then sighed with relief.

“Yes, he is, but what I am wondering is why you were in the company of a man who does not seem to be a steady individual. What friend would bring a lady to this sort of event and embroil her in—


“Just a minute!” Babs snapped, cutting him off. “He is the best of good friends. He brought me here at my request because my father was otherwise engaged and by the way gave his consent, though that is none of your business.”

“I beg your pardon,” he answered inclining his head and thinking she was a feisty little creature. He liked the way her dark eyes flashed. Just who the devil was she?

Sir Charles appeared at the coach door. “Well, that’s done, Babs m’girl, though what Otto could have had in his head to let you stand about while he took a steam engine for a ride!” He shook his head, climbed in, and waved off the objection Babs began to make before he turned to his cousin to say, “Nick, I took the liberty of directing your driver to Lady Barbara’s town house. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Now why should I mind when you have been directing my driver all morning?” his lordship teased, finding himself greatly amused. “However, I hope you will take a moment and introduce me to this young lady before the journey is completed.”

“So I shall, but not until I have warned her about you.” He turned to Babs and offered, “This gentleman, who is also my cousin, is a devil, Babs, so I have my qualms about bringing him to your notice. However, as there is nothing for it …” He inclined his head and said, “Lady Barbara Waverly, my cousin, his grace, the Duke of Barrington.”

Lady Babs’ eyebrow went up, and the duke couldn’t decide if she was impressed or simply surprised. Her full lower lip dropped slightly, and he felt a sudden blood rush. She was damned enticing.

He took her gloved fingers lightly in his own and touched the soft flesh of her wrist with his lips. His eyes came up even as his lips met her skin, and he found her delicate brows up and her cheeks aflame.

“You are sweetly named,” he said softly to her and saw his cousin grimace. It spurred him on. “As sweet as the taste of your flesh.”

“OH! Outrageous, your grace.” She smiled ruefully and turned to Charles. “Chuck, you are certainly right … he is charming enough to be dangerous.”

He laughed. “Charles, I think the lady well able to fend me off, don’t you?”

Babs laughed and said, “But you two are cousins? How is it I have never seen his grace during the season?” She looked curiously from one to the other, and the duke found himself amused by her openness of manner.

“Ah,’ Charles answered, “you are not only looking at one of London’s former rakehells,” he said as he smiled fondly, “but also one of Wellington’s heroes! He has been off fighting in the Peninsula.” He stopped at that moment to exclaim, “Ah, here we are,” as the coach pulled up to the curbing.



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