Page 2 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
“My mother is already dancing,” she said abruptly.
The man chuckled. “Yes, I can see that.”
“You can wait for her here.” Agnes glanced at the man, then quickly looked away. He was handsome with light-brown hair and light-colored eyes. He seemed closer to her age than her mother’s, but evidently none of that truly mattered.
All of this would be easier if she had made friends, but she’d spent so much of her life out in Yorkshire that she truly didn’t know many people in London. And her mother hadn’t bothered trying to introduce her to anyone. In fact, her mother seemingly had few to no friends. Agnes suspected this had to do with envy from other women. But it also could be largely due to her mother being selfish and unwilling to be a true friend.
Then another man approached. This one older, but still obviously here to wait for her mother. By the time her mother returned from her current dance, she’d have a line waiting for her. Agnes chuckled at the thought. Yes, deciding to remain single was going to make this Season far better and infinitely more entertaining.
…
Fletcher Banks, the Earl of Wakefield, surveyed the ballroom looking for his next dance partner. Even though he’d spent the last fourteen months on the Continent, he’d come home to discover these events were still mundane and banal. But being an active participant at societal gatherings gave him an up-close view of the people he was supposed to be watching. He’d been a member of the Seven, an elite spy organization, for the last two years. But his last assignment had ended in a disaster and he’d been blamed for the entire debacle. Now he was on probation and would likely spend the next several months with similar tasks to the one at hand.
Tonight’s assignment would have him dancing and flirting with the widowed Lady Fairbanks, in an attempt to woo information out of her about her brother-in-law. He had yet to find her, and instead his eyes were repeatedly drawn to another woman, a younger woman. She was most likely a debutante considering he’d never before seen her. Two men stood near her, but they didn’t seem to be interacting with her.
Fletcher watched her now, as she stood across the room wearing a fashionable pinkish-orange gown. The dress was modestly cut and featured no accents other than the ruffled cap sleeves and the part of the bodice that looked to be a bow tied across her breasts. Her hair was swept up atop her head, with chocolate-brown curls framing her face. Her skin was flawless, creamy, pale, and perfect.
But the thing he could not look away from were her eyes. Even from this distance, he could see them clearly. They weren’t almond shaped, but were more rounded, giving them the appearance of being large, and their color was unlike anything he’d ever seen before: a piercing blue. He’d heard tale of the unique color of the Caribbean Sea, though he’d never seen it himself. But the descriptions of that clear blue water reminded him of this woman’s eyes.
He glanced around the room once more, searching for a sign of Lady Fairbanks, but again could not find her. Fletcher was no stranger to charming people to get what he wanted. He’d always suspected that had been the primary reason he’d been recruited to join the ranks of the Seven. So it was that he found himself instigating an introduction from the hostess to the blue-eyed debutante.
“Miss Watkins, I’d like to introduce you to Lord Wakefield.”
The debutante smiled, but he couldn’t help but notice none of the friendliness lit her striking eyes. Still she curtsied. “A pleasure, my lord.”
“I can assure you it is I who has the pleasure.” He smiled at her and in doing so could’ve sworn he saw a weakening in her defense.
Their hostess left them, and he eyed the other men standing near her, but not precisely with her.
“My mother should return momentarily. You can wait with the others,” she said softly, nodding to the men behind her. Her voice was sultry and rich and immediately did things to him, yet her words made no actual sense.
“I’m sorry?”
“My mother, Lady Darby. She is currently dancing, but shall return.” Then she leveled those piercing blue eyes on him. “I apologize, my lord, but I’m afraid you’ve caught me on a bad evening and I simply don’t have it in me to pretend to entertain you while you wait.”
“Miss Watkins, I have no notion who your mother is. I sought out our hostess for an introduction to you. I wanted to ask if you would do me the honor of dancing the next waltz with me.”
She eyed him suspiciously, glanced down at the dance card hanging from her wrist, then rose those cerulean eyes to his. “My lord, that is the very next dance.”
He chuckled. “Then it would seem I have impeccable timing.”
He held his arm out to her and she accepted. Her body immediately tensed and he looked up to find an older woman walking directly for them. She was quite obviously Agnes’s mother. The resemblance was startling.
“My my, what do we have here?” the woman asked, her voice low and sultry.
“Mother, this is the Earl of Wakefield,” Agnes said. “My lord, Lady Darby.”
“Lady Darby, a pleasure.” The older woman’s eyes shamelessly traversed the length of him and he repressed a shudder. Because of certain assignments when he’d had to feign interest in a woman to obtain information, he easily slid into the role. However, where he thought most women to be somewhat attention seeking, this woman demanded it. Craved it.
Now Agnes’s words after he’d first walked up to her made sense.
“Lovely to meet you,” Fletcher said. “I am very much looking forward to this dance with your stunning daughter.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Indeed. How charming of you. I do believe I could make room for a dance with such a dashing man.”
“Perhaps another time.” And with that, he pulled Agnes onto the dance floor. Thankfully, the music began to play.
With his hand resting on her hip and the other cradling her hand, he could feel her curves just below the surface of her gown. Miss Watkins was, in a word, gorgeous, a perfect specimen of beauty.
