An Unexpected Gentleman Part 18

aDonat. I donat want help. I donat need it.a And the moment she rang for it, shead leave. He wanted that least of all. The ballroom below was filled with ladies like the widow Cartwella"worldly women clad in silk, rubies, and the promise of sin-filled nights. But it was the prim little creature before him now who intrigued him. aYouave a different sort of promise.a aI beg your pardon?a He shook his head, lightly so as not to lose it entirely. aNever mind. Donat ring for help.a aYou cannot stay here in the nursery, my lord, anda"a aMr. Dane,a he reminded her. aWhy not? Are there children about?a Surely not. Surely no one, not even the most depraved friends of Mrs. Wrayburn, would be so ridiculous as to bring a child to one of the womanas parties.

aNo, buta"a aThen weall stay. Sit,a he pressed again. He considered and rejected the idea of tugging her back onto her seat. His current level of coordination was unpredictable at best. He wasnat looking to do the woman an injury. aTalk with me.a aI canat. It isnat proper.a He snorted a little in response. As far as good society was concerned, the words apropera and aAnover Housea were mutually exclusive. aWhat do we care for proper, you and I?a aI care,a she replied, and he watched with fascination as her already rigid back straightened just a hair further. aMy mother would most a.s.suredly care.a aThen she ought to have had the sense to move you out of the house by now.a If he remembered correctly, rumor had it Mrs. Wrayburn had, in fact, tried to marry her daughter off on more than one occasion, but Miss Rees was content to stay as she wasa"a reclusive and spoiled young woman, and a burden on her overindulgent mother.

Well, the little darling could indulge someone else for a change.

aI want you to stay,a he informed her. aAnd now that Iam a viscount, Iam fairly certain you have to do as I say. Sit. Talk.a Unless he was very much mistaken, her lips twitched with amus.e.m.e.nt. aNo.a This time, when she pulled at her wrist, he had no choice but to grant her freedom or risk being yanked from his seat.

He squinted at her willowy arms. aStronger than you look.a That dubious compliment earned him a bland expression. aI daresay a kitten would give you trouble in your current condition, which is why I need to ringa"a aThatas insulting.a Quite possibly true, but nonetheless insulting. aUnless you are referring to one of those giant breeds of cats? Tigers and such? They have exceptionally large kittens.a aCubs, Mr. Dane. And no, I was not.a aThen Iam insulted.a He made a show of slumping in his chair, but when that failed to lure out a smile, he tried another tack. aBefore pa.s.sing along your next barb, you might consider taking into account the sad, sad nature of events which has led to my weakened state.a aI beg your pardon?a He wondered if he was, perhaps, not expressing himself as clearly as he imagined. aThereas been a death in the family, youall recall.a It was unforgivable to make mention of his brotheras pa.s.sing in such a careless manner, and he might have felt a little guilty for it, were he not so d.a.m.nably angry with his brother just now. And so gratified to see Miss Reesas expression soften once again. And so stupendously drunk.

But softened or not, Miss Rees appeared implacable in her resolve to leave. aPlease understand, Mr. Dane, I am most sorry for the loss of your father. Howevera"a Baffled, he straightened in his chair. aMy father?a aThe gentleman from whom youave inherited the viscountcy.a aAh, no. My elder brother, Reginald. My father shuffled off the mortal coil years ago.a He gave that additional thought. aMaybe only two. Strange, seems longer. And not long enough.a The viscountas baritone voice had grown happily dim in his memory.

aI am truly sorry for the loss of your brother,a Miss Rees corrected patiently. aHowever, I cannot continue to keep company with you in here, like this. I may not come from good ton, but I am an unmarried young woman, and, as a gentleman, youa"a aGood Lord, child, where did you acquire the impression I was a gentleman?a aVery well,a she conceded. aAs a viscount, you are expected, at the very least, to make a show of adhering to the strictures governing a gentlemanas behavior, and as such, you must respect my wish to not risk being seen ina"a aOh, for G.o.das sake,a he groaned, ajust go.a A lecture of what he must do was the last thing he wanted to listen to at present. Head done nothing but follow the mandates of others for the first four-and-twenty years of his life. It had been an appalling experience. He had discovered in the year since that it was far better to be a disappointment than a p.a.w.n. Better still if he didnat have to suffer through someone elseas long-winded opinion on the matter.

Miss Rees glanced at the bellpull, then back to him. aWill you allow me to ring fora"?a aNo.a If he couldnat sit with the pretty lady, head sit alone for a bit and find his own way back downstairs.

aAs you like,a she murmured, and she turned and walked away with the flowing grace that had helped cement her nickname as the Ice Maiden.

aLike gliding on ice,a he mumbled. aaS not natural.a Giving no indication of having heard the comment, she reached the door, paused with her hand on the handle, and looked back with a pleading expression. aPlease allow me to ring for a.s.sistance.a aNo.a aBut Ia"a aNo.a A small crease formed between the dark arcs of her brows. aYou canat mean toa"a aUnaccustomed to hearing the word ano,a arenat you?a Her lips thinned. aI ought to have left you in the hall.a aRegrets are like mistresses,a he informed her.

aI . . .a Her hand dropped from the handle. aWhat?a aGood men donat have them.a She blinked at that, then broke into a soft laughter that sent pleasant chills along his skin. aThat is the most ridiculous adage I have ever heard.a aIam foxed,a he pointed out and shrugged. aIam cleverer when . . . Cleverer? Is it acleverera? Or is it amore clevera? Whichever. Iam brilliant when Iam sober.a aAnd less inclined to announce it, one might hope.a With a resigned sigh, she reached for the door handle again, but this time, she locked the door and dropped the key in her pocket.

aYou move like a queen,a he said quietly as she crossed the room and resumed her seat in front of him. aOn ice skates. What did you just do?a aI locked the door.a aYes, I know.a He was drunk, not blind. aWhy?a aTo avoid another inebriated guest stumbling in upon us by accident.a aYou mean to stay?a he asked, not quite believing it.

Avoiding his gaze, she brushed a smoothing hand down the sleeve of one arm. aYou wonat allow me to call for someone else.a aAnd you arenat willing to leave me sitting here all alone? That is . . . unexpected.a He leaned in for a closer inspection of her features. aArenat you supposed to be frigid and uncaring?a She looked at him, her eyes narrowing just a hair. aArenat you supposed to be charming?a He grinned at her, appreciating the sharp retort. aIall have you know, I could talk the devil out of his tail.a aIam not a devil, Mr. Dane.a aNo . . . I believe you might be an angel.a aAnd I believe the reports of your charm have been grossly exaggerated.a aWas a bit trite, wasnat it?a He propped his elbow on the table, rested his chin in his hand, and studied her features at leisure. aThere is something . . . otherworldly about you. The eyes, I think. But theyare not angelic. Theyare fae.a aTheyare merely sober.a aEqually disconcerting. Why is it you never come downstairs with your mother? She throws wonderful parties. Youad enjoy yourself, I think.a aI doubt it.a aYouare enjoying yourself now, with me,a he pointed out. Reasonably, to his mind. aThe ballroom is br.i.m.m.i.n.g with fellows just like myself.a aInebriated?a aYes,a he allowed. aAlso, exciting and charming.a She eyed him with frank curiosity. aIs that what youare doing coming to parties like these? Dedicating your life to being exciting and charming?a aI donat dedicate myself to anything,a he a.s.sured her, lifting his chin from his hand. aEntirely too much work.a aBeing a member of the demimonde isnat work? Drink and women and scandals.a She shook her head lightly. aSeems prodigiously taxing to me. Why do you do it?a aBecause I can,a he replied with a careless lift of one shoulder. aBecause Iam not supposed to.a She digested that quietly a moment before speaking. aA viscountcy comes with many responsibilities, I imagine. Will you change your ways now?a aI have changed my ways, sweet. That is how I landed here. And I must say, misshapen furniture notwithstanding, I rather like where I am at present.a He smiled at her and watched the faintest of blushes bloom on her cheeks. aHow is it you knew of my nickname, but not that my brother was the viscount?a To her credit, she merely blinked at the sudden change of subject. aWhen one spends little time outside oneas rooms, one gains information in bits and pieces. I encountered your name and reputation in pa.s.sing.a aEverything you do is in pa.s.sing. A moment in the ballroom, a mere peek out of the opera box. Iave never met the man to have spent more than thirty seconds in your company.a A flicker of unease crossed her features, but it was gone almost the instant it arrived. aDo you mean to brag to your friends to have been the only one?a aAnd be banished from your motheras home?a He made a scoffing noise. aIall keep the accomplishment to myself, though it will cost me. Youare the subject of considerable speculation, you know.a aAm I?a She digested that behind a shuttered expression. aOne would think people would have something more compelling to discuss than a woman of whom they know nothing.a aItas the mystery of the thing,a he explained. aWhat will become of the spoiled, reclusive daughter of the notorious Mrs. Wrayburn? Will she follow in her motheras footsteps and become a member of the demimonde? Will she marry a tradesman with the fortune to keep her in silk and diamonds?a aPerhaps Iam not as spoiled as people seem to think,a she offered softly. aPerhaps Iall marry a pauper and reside in a cottage in the countryside.a aAnd live off your dowry?a He considered that. aDo you have a dowry?a aYouad have to ask my mother.a aHardly matters,a he decided. aWho are you going to meet, peeking into ballrooms and parlors long enough to give us all a glimpse of your fae eyes and fine feathers, and hiding away upstairs for the rest of the night?a aI donat hide,a she replied, a whisper of defensiveness creeping into her voice. aAnd Iave met you.a aI hope youare not expecting a proposal.a Her lips curved. aYouare shortsighted to not consider the notion. You could do your duty to the viscountcy and shock good society in one fell swoop.a aThat is an excellent point.a Leaning toward her, he offered a lovelorn expression. aWill you marry me, Miss Anna Rees?a aNo, Lord Dane. I will not.a The quick rejection surprised him into sitting up. There wasnat a single unmarried woman of his acquaintance who would refuse an offer, even a drunken one, from a peer. aYou would turn down the opportunity to be a viscountess?a aGladly.a He pressed his lips together in thought before asking, aIs it because Iam the viscount?a aNo; it is because I have no interest in being a member of either the demimonde or the beau monde. Or being married to either.a There was a short hesitation before she spoke again. aI want the cottage in the countryside.a aDo you? Truly?a Head never have guessed it. No one who had caught a glimpse of Miss Rees in her exquisite gowns and sparkling jewels, or listened to Mrs. Wrayburn wax lovingly on about her daughteras adorable demands for exquisite gowns and sparkling jewels, would have entertained the idea for even a moment. Miss Rees was more of an enigma than any of them had realized. aFascinating. What else do you want?a aFrom my life, do you mean?a One dark brow winged up. aWhy on earth would I share my dreams with you?a aYou just told me of the cottage,a he reminded her. aAnd Iam not out to have your secrets. Merely your interests. Itas a way to pa.s.s the time. Unless youad care to sit here in silence?a aI donat . . .a She trailed off, looked away, and was quiet for so long, Max thought perhaps she had chosen to sit in silence after all. Which was all the same to him. There were worse ways to spend the evening than sitting quietly with Miss Anna Rees. He liked looking at hera"the high plane of her cheekbones, the soft curve of her jaw. He wanted to reach out and trace the outline of her ear, maybe draw his finger down the length of her pale neck.

aI want a hound,a Miss Rees said suddenly, and even with the layers of drink blurring his senses, he instantly recognized the twin notes of uncertainty and determination in her voice. It took him a moment more, however, to push through those layers and remember what theyad been talking about.

aA hound. Right. You want a hound. Like your motheras pug?a aNo, not a lapdog. A hound,a she emphasized with a hint of excitement. aI want a st.u.r.dy sort of dog I can stroll with through a forest or have run beside me when I ride. Something not apt to disappear into a well or be trampled under a carriage.a He was suddenly reminded of the Newfoundland head had as a boy. Brutus. A hulking, s...o...b..ring beast of a thing. aI adored that dog.a aIam sorry?a He shook his head. aNothing. Wonat your mother purchase a dog for you?a aA town house is no place for a large animal,a she said quietly and began to trace a narrow scratch in the wood of the table with a long, elegant finger.

aNot a sporting dog, certainly. But something like one of those spotted coach hounds. Theyad be happy chasing you and your mother through Hyde Park.a He couldnat recall having ever seen the lady in the park, but surely she went out for fresh air now and again.

aIall wait for a cottage.a aWhy should you?a When she refused to answer, he dipped his head to catch her eye. aYour mother wonat purchase one for you, will she?a aIt is her home,a she said by way of answer and went back to tracing the scratch.

aI see,a he said carefully, straightening. Perhaps Mrs. Wrayburn and her daughter were not as close as Mrs. Wrayburn had led her friends to believe. aI think . . . Youare not at all what you seem, are you?a Her eyes drifted up from the table. aBeg your pardon?a aAm I slurring?a he asked and smacked his lips experimentally.

aConsiderably, but itas the yawning that renders you unintelligible.a aAh.a He closed his eyes briefly and discovered the room still spun around him, but at a more reasonable speed than before. aG.o.d, I am tired.a aIs there no one I could fetch to take you home?a The few friends he would trust inside his home were not the sort of men who attended parties thrown by Mrs. Wrayburn. He opened his eyes and gave her what he hoped was a wink, but, under the circ.u.mstances, might well have been a slow blink. aNo one whose company I should enjoy so much as yours. Are you quite certain you wonat marry me?a aYes.a aPity,a he replied and meant it. Once his position as Lord Dane became public knowledge, the freedom head enjoyed as a less-than-desirable match would disappear. No one was interested in marrying the dissolute younger brother of a perfectly healthy viscount. But a dissolute viscount . . . that was another matter. He was to be prime game for the unwed young ladies of the respectable set until he chose a bride. What fun it would be to disappoint them all by eloping with the lovely, fascinating, and entirely unsuitable Miss Rees. aIf you should change your minda"a aIall not.a aBut if you should, I promise you that cottage in the country.a A small smile curved her lips. aAnd the hound?a aAnd the hound.a aAnd why would you do that, Lord Dane?a aEveryone should have at least a piece of what they want.a And the longer he sat there, staring into Miss Reesas fae eyes, the more he realized that what he wanted most at the moment was her. aI like the way you smile. Itas tremendously sweet. And that little eyetooth, there on the right. Itas a bit crooked. I find that beguiling.a aBeg your pardon?a He realized he was yawning again. aBeguiling. Your tooth is beguiling.a aAn entire ballroom of charmers just like yourself, did you say? Iad no idea what delights I was missing.a Suddenly he didnat like the idea of her mingling with other gentlemen. Particularly not the sort of gentlemen to be found downstairs. aI may have exaggerated the allure of the ballroom. Youare far better off up here.a aI have always suspected.a aYouare best off in my company.a He wanted to prove it, but it seemed too much of a challenge at present. aI shall call on you tomorrow.a aYou may have other duties to attend to tomorrow, my lord.a aRight. Next week, then. Iall call on you next week.a She made a humming noise in the back of her throat that he easily recognized as the sound of a woman humoring a man. His sister had been fond of employing it when theyad been younger and he would air his intent to defy their father.

aGot round to it eventually,a he heard himself mumble.

aWhat was that?a aIall get round to it,a he stated more clearly. aAfter this business with my brother.a Another noise, this time accompanied by a patronizing smile and slight inclination of the head. It mattered little to his mind. Next week would be soon enough to prove himself. Just now, he was too exhausted to even think about attempting to prove something. And too drunk. And much, much too angry at his brother for his last attempt at trying to prove something to someone.

aDo you know how he died, Miss Rees? My brother?a She shook her head.

aA duel. A d.a.m.ned duel. And not even over a woman. Some ridiculous puppy accused him of cheating during a game of cards, and my idiot brother called him out. Heas left a wife and four daughters alone, and the estate to a neaer-do-well. And theyall say he died with honor . . . or defending his honor, Iave forgotten which. At any rate, honor will be bandied about like a childas ball while the puppy abandons his ailing mother to run off to the continent, my nieces wail into their pillows, and the Dane estate crumbles into ruin.a He tried lifting his hand for a toast before realizing he hadnat a gla.s.s, or the energy to lift it.

aTo honor,a he muttered.

aLives are ruined in less savory pursuits than honor.a aNo.a He sighed and leaned back in his tiny chair. His head was so d.a.m.nably heavy. aNo, I donat think they are.a aHavenat you honor?a Miss Rees asked quietly.

He allowed his tired eyes to close, just for a moment, and sighed heavily. aTo be honest, Miss Rees . . . I donat much care.a

Berkley Sensation t.i.tles by Alissa Johnson.

NEARLY A LADY.

AN UNEXPECTED GENTLEMAN.