Seduction & Scandal. Charlotte Featherstone

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      Isabella nodded. “It was indeed divine.”

      “I knew it,” Lucy gushed. “From the very second he found you, he kept his eyes on you. Oh, it was so romantic the way he looked at you. And the picture the two of you made, dancing around the ballroom—”

      “You make too much of it, Luce.”

      “I certainly do not,” Lucy grunted. “An earl! Issy, this is a coup for you!”

      “I know nothing about him.”

      “That’s what a courtship is for.”

      “I am already being courted by Mr. Knighton.”

      Lucy’s pretty face puckered into a frown. “Issy, be reasonable. I saw the way Lord Black looked at you, and furthermore, I saw the way you looked at him.”

      “I did no such thing,” she shrieked, mortified by the thought her emotions had been so transparent. She had been taken by him, but to discover that everyone knew it as well was beyond humiliating.

      “Admit it, Issy, there’s something about the earl that intrigues you.”

      Of course there was. What woman wouldn’t be intrigued by his mysteriousness, or lured to his handsome face? There was an air of danger about Black that was impossible to ignore—or not be drawn to. It was only natural, wasn’t it, for a woman to be fascinated by a man as commanding as Lord Black? He was older than her. Experienced. A man of the world. It was expected that his worldly aura called to her. For heaven’s sake, until last year she had been nothing but a rag-taggle country girl in Yorkshire.

      This … attraction to Black. It was nothing but innocent female curiosity, that was all. And nothing more would come of it. She had experienced her moment of exhilaration and danger, and that would be all. She would not allow her overly imaginative, impulsive nature to be her ruination.

      “Issy,” Lucy warned, “you aren’t going to deny that you find the earl charming?”

      “If I did, we would both know it for a lie. The truth is, I find him very charismatic.”

      “And handsome.”

      “Yes.”

      “And rich.” Isabella inclined her head in acknowledgment. “And clearly besotted with you.”

      “I do not believe the earl capable of being besotted, that is for young men. The earl is a man, Lucy.”

      “And that scares you, doesn’t it?”

      Heavens, when had Lucy become so bold? Isabella refused to answer that question despite the truth of it. The earl did frighten her. She had never felt her body respond in such a way. It was terrifying yet exciting. Every cell tingled with awareness, and it made her want to run and hide. Her father had been a charmer. Her mother had told her the stories. She did not want to wind up like her mother, she reminded herself, ruined and alone, barely able to scrape out a living. Passion had its place, and for Isabella, that place was one of control and moderation. Imprudent recklessness was the kiss of death.

      “Do you know what I think? You’ve realized that it is rather easy to keep Mr. Knighton at bay. But in one dance, you’ve discovered that it would be quite impossible to sway Lord Black. Black would take what he wanted, not by force, of course, but just the same, he would find a way to obtain what he desired. He wouldn’t be deterred like Knighton.”

      “I do not keep Mr. Knighton at bay, Lucy.”

      “No, you do not have to. Knighton does that for himself, and you find relief in that because it makes it easier for you to keep your vow of not making the same mistakes your mother did.”

      Isabella didn’t know what to say. Lucy was right. Knighton was not an ardent suitor. He was kind and his affection was all very proper. But Black … Isabella shivered. Black would not be chaste or proper in his pursuit of anything if he wanted it enough. Of that she was certain.

      “Mr. Knighton is the sort of life companion I desire, Lucy. I do not require a town house in Mayfair, or a title, or heaps of money. What I wish for is constancy, security and perhaps a little affection.”

      Squeezing her hands, Lucy smiled. “Dearest Isabella, when will you see that Mr. Knighton’s first love is work?”

      “I will see it when you finally decide that the Duke of Sussex is worthy of your time.”

      Lucy arched her brows. “You aim your arrows well, Issy.”

      “I know you mean well, but I know what I’m doing, and pining after the unreachable Lord Black is not something I’m going to do. He isn’t the sort I’d want as a husband. Besides, it was one dance, not a vow of marriage, or anything of the sort. You make too much of it.”

      Lucy gazed at her knowingly. “I wonder if I do. Time, of course, shall tell us.”

      “Really, Lucy,” she admonished. “You’ve become far too bold.”

      “Have I? I do apologize. Well, then, I hear another waltz beginning, and I believe you promised the third waltz to your Mr. Knighton. But I am not done with you yet,” Lucy said with a smile, before dropping her voice to a whisper. “Tonight, I want every little detail of your dance with the handsome Lord Black.”

      With a reluctant nod, Isabella looped her arm through Lucy’s as they left the room and reentered the ballroom, which felt warm and stuffy. Instantly she wished for a reprieve. She was not in the mood for idle chitchat. What she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts, and her memories of that wonderful dance in Lord Black’s arms.

      “Good evening, Isabella.”

      She stopped and smiled at Wendell, who looked very handsome in his black dress clothes, except for the bit of dust marring the cuff of his jacket. He followed her gaze and stiffened.

      “Damnation!” he cried, wiping it off. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t help myself, I had to stop by the museum on my way here this evening.”

      Lucy shot her a pointed look that Isabella chose to ignore. “There is nothing to worry about. I assume you were checking on the preparations for the unveiling of the new exhibit?”

      “I was. And …” Wendell flushed as he met her gaze. “I was wondering if you might consider letting me out of this dance. I know it’s bad form, but one of the patrons of the museum is here tonight, and I wished to speak with him. Funds, of course. If I don’t see to the donations …” He trailed off expectantly, his brown eyes full of hope that she understood his plight.

      “Of course. You must go and meet him.”

      “Thank you. I will endeavor to make it up to you.”

      “Don’t even say it,” Isabella ordered her cousin when Wendell had taken his leave. “You of all people should know that I’m not the least bit crestfallen to have to sit out a dance.”

      “I didn’t say a word.”

      “But you wanted to.”

      “Sorely,” Lucy said СКАЧАТЬ