Page 29 of Wedding the Widow

“What luck, my dear, to have drawn a waltz for our set.” Lord Brack’s twinkling blue eyes caught Elizabeth’s attention. He used that distraction to pull her close to him and lay his hand flat on her back.

What had this roguish young man been up to while she’d been pouring out her troubles to Fanny?

“Indeed, I did not believe Lady Braeton one to court scandal.” The intimacy of the waltz was said to be suited only to married couples. She now agreed wholeheartedly.

“Not scandal, surely?” Brack took the opportunity of a whirling step to draw her body closer to him, tightening his arm around her.

“Lord Brack!” How dare he?

“Jemmy, if you remember.” Effortlessly, he steered them around the circle of dancers. Whatever he was, he was skilled on the dance floor.

“Jemmy, then. You are holding me much too tightly.” Secretly, she found his nearness thrilling, though she couldn’t let him know that.

“Nowhere near as tightly as I want to hold you.” He inched her even closer. “As I have done in the past.” He pressed his mouth close to her ear. “I remember holding you against me, all of you against all of me. Don’t you remember how lovely that felt, Elizabeth? Don’t you want to feel that again?”

Gasping for breath, Elizabeth fought the surge of passion that threatened to overwhelm her merely by his closeness. She vividly remembered their bodies entwined on her bed, kisses raining down all over her neck and breasts. Heat exploded at her core, and she fought to continue dancing as though her body had not suddenly been engulfed in those flames once more. If she was to continue the charade, she must steer the conversation into safer waters.

“I believe the past should remain in the past, Lord—”

His eyes threatened to cut her like a finely honed blade.

“Jemmy.” She eased away from him a trifle. Enough room to let her take a deep breath. “Could we please walk about the room? I am not used to dancing so much nor so fast.” She managed a cajoling tone and fluttered her fan before her face, both to conceal her eyes and to cool her as much as possible. The room itself seemed to exude heat.

“Of course, my dear.” He immediately broke off the waltz and offered his arm. “Even though it took ten minutes of negotiating and a gold sovereign to arrange this dance with the orchestra leader.”

“You didn’t?”

“I most certainly did. How else could I guarantee I’d end up with you in my arms this evening?” He chuckled low in his throat and drew her arm through his.

“You are much more devious than I imagined. At Lyttlefield Park, I would have said you were the perfect gentleman.” Instead, Lord Brack was turning out to be one of those gentlemen Mama had warned her about. The trouble was, she was no longer a young, inexperienced girl. Maybe she no longer needed to travel the safe path.

“I can be your perfect gentleman, Elizabeth. A knight in shining armor who rescues you from an uneventful life—”

“My life is not uneventful, I will have you know.” She rapped his arm with her fan so sharply feathers flew.

“I can guarantee I will make it more meaningful, more exciting than you ever dreamed.” He stopped at the far end of the ballroom near a set of closed French doors. “I wish the night was not so cool. We could take the air out on the balcony,” his voice became huskier, “and I could kiss you again.”

“Lower your voice.” Thrilled and panicked at the same time, Elizabeth drew him further into the shadow of a huge potted plant. “You should not say such things.”

“Perhaps I should just do them, then.” He grasped her head and pressed his lips to hers.

For a confused moment, she leaned against him, stunned by his boldness. His lips were as she remembered them, incredibly soft, yet firm. Commanding. Caring. Then she pulled away, heart racing, unable to speak a word.

“You do remember that night, by God.” Jemmy all but crowed.

“Of course, I remember it, you fool.” Trembling, Elizabeth stepped back, her hands automatically going to her hair. If he’d mussed it, she would have to go home. She couldn’t spend the rest of the evening looking like a hoyden. “That doesn’t mean I wish to reenact it in the middle of a Harvest Ball.”

“Does it mean you would you reenact it with me somewhere else?”

The hope in his raspy voice touched a chord deep inside her, a need she’d been trying to deny ever since it had happened. But she couldn’t speak of such things in a public place. She could scarcely do so in the privacy of her boudoir. So switch to a safer subject and hope for the best. “Are you planning to attend Charlotte’s wedding next month, my lord? Surely, they wish to have you present, along with all the house party, save only Lord Fernly, Maria, and Lord Kersey.”

“Yes, I suspect they would be personae non gratae after that scandalous performance at the last party.” He chuckled. “A very interesting evening for all concerned, don’t you think?”

Drat. Here they were, right back onto the topic she wished fervently to avoid. She pushed on. “So you will be attending the wedding?”

“I believe so.” He wove his fingers through hers. “Nash has asked me to stand as best man for him. I am proud to do it.”

“I see.” Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure if that pleased her or not. “Georgina and Jane are to be Charlotte’s attendants.”