The Dangerous Love of a Rogue. Jane Lark
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Название: The Dangerous Love of a Rogue

Автор: Jane Lark

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9780007594665

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ idiot.” There was a little annoyance in her voice.

      As they made another turn he took the opportunity to press his palm against her side, below her breasts. Her body slid across his fingers as she followed the pattern of the dance. He only touched her for an instant, as if it was to stop her stumbling, yet her whole body jolted.

      “Forgive me. I thought you’d missed a step.”

      “You thought—”

      “No I did not.” He leaned to her ear as he stepped forward. Her hair brushed his cheek. “I simply wish this were a waltz and I had the opportunity to hold you.”

      He stepped back. There was a sparkle in her dark pupils, and he saw her heartbeat flickering beneath her skin at the base of her neck.

      The woman was charming.

      “Yet it is not a waltz, and so you should refrain…”

      Finally he was challenged, her pause awaited his name. It had taken her long enough. “Lord Framlington.”

      As they walked around the back of the couple beside them she looked as though she searched her memory for his name, yet when they came into the middle of a ring of six there was no light of recognition in her eyes. The Duke of Pembroke had not mentioned his name to her then.

      “I like you, Miss Marlow. You are pretty and sensible,” he said, as they came back together – and innocent and wealthy.

      “I cannot say I like you in return, I do not know you.”

      He smiled at her little jab. “Know you or not, I like and admire you.” It was true, the girl was claiming his entire interest the more the dance progressed. She was perfect.

      “Indeed.” She laughed, a light, jolly sound, not a forced jubilant creation developed to draw attention.

      The girl was doing something to his soul, he felt as though he was bathing in her innocence, baptised in it, his sins washed away. “It is no jest, and no falsity, you are charming. A man would be a fool if he did not see it.”

      “So you are telling me you are no fool.”

      “I have never been a fool, Miss Marlow.” Another step forward brought them together. “I am interested in you.” He whispered it into her ear.

      Her head pulled back. “Interested…”

      He let his lips tilt into a smile. “Yes. Very. Immensely. As I said I like you.”

      “My Lord, you may speak as though you know me, but you do not.”

      “Such a sensible head, you only interest me more…”

      Damn it, there was probably only a dozen steps left and beyond those dancing Drew saw her father in a discussion with her brother, Pembroke. The Duke must have recently arrived. They both glanced across the room.

      Drew looked at Miss Marlow, his time with the beauty was at an end. “I am the son of a Marquis…” In theory, and yet if he was to sell himself he must sell his best side. “You may hear bad things of me, but disregard them. Judge me by the man you see. Admittedly I am not like the young men I see you dancing with—”

      “You have been watching me.”

      “Did I not already say that I admire you? Why would I not watch you to learn more about you and be sure what I think is true?”

      “What do you think?”

      “That I shall be a very lucky” and wealthy, “man, if I were to win you… You are a beauty.” He would guess if she looked about this room she would only see the light, the flowers, the beautiful dresses and people’s smiles. Like looking at that damned wooden pillar, unless you touched it, or tapped it, unless you knew, you would not know the lie beneath the paint.

      Damn it, if he chose to marry her he would lock her up to protect her innocence.

      The music ceased; her fingers were in his as the dance was completed. She would have pulled them free but he refused to let go.

      She lowered in a curtsy.

      Half the room would be laughing behind their smiles as they watched his game play, thinking the poor woman the fool he’d just told her he never was. He did not wish her thought a fool either, though.

      As she rose, she smiled.

      Her eyes said she liked him, even if she had not said it with her lips.

      She’d taken him at his word, and she was judging him by what she saw, not by the history that had woven around him like a web for years… Rogue… Rake… Bastard… Unwanted son… Unwanted entirely…

      “My father,” she breathed as her hand slipped from his. He felt the loss like something had been taken from him.

      “Remember me as I am.”

      She gave him another tentative smile and then her fingers gripped her dress to lift it away from her feet and she turned towards her father.

      Drew watched her cross the floor then join her family. Her father leant to her ear and spoke hurriedly. She glanced back. Drew smiled. She smiled in return but it quivered with uncertainty. She knew now. Her father had just told her.

       Do not dance with that rogue…

      Damn the man, and damn these people. Drew turned away, to return to his friends, to return to his life, but he had ambitions, and now his ambitions leaned heavily towards Miss Mary Marlow, though winning the girl would be a challenge, there was no denying that.

      “Drew, come to my room tonight…” for God’s sake, he had just bathed in innocence and now he was dirty again. He’d lied when he’d said he was unwanted entirely, one element of society welcomed him willingly. Women of his mother’s ilk.

      Her removed Lady Worton’s hand from the front of his trousers, pressing his thumb into her palm so she would yield her grip on his crotch. “I am afraid I am not inclined, Bets. Find another toy tonight.”

      He did not wait to hear the woman’s reply. He was so damned bored of his life. He’d fallen into it, never chosen it. Been damned well born into, like a whore into a brothel, and for years he’d enjoyed the sex, and the money and gifts the women gave him, but there had come a point he wished to be able to do as he chose – be free to live as he chose – and the only way to achieve it was to marry money.

      “Drew!” Another of his friends, Peter, lifted a hand. Drew did have some people he appreciated.

      “Peter. You are late. Where have you been?”

      “I have been…” As Drew listened to his friend, he turned to face the room.

      Miss Marlow was not dancing the next, she stood with her father receiving a scalding by all appearances, while her brother was with a woman in a knot of the family who crowded around them.

      Drew looked at Peter. “Who is that with Pembroke?” The Pembroke women, including Miss Marlow, were all dark haired, it was one of the strongest characteristics СКАЧАТЬ