A Dash of Scandal(20)
“Yes. I believe I’m up to date on all my notes, Lord Dunraven. I’m flattered by your interest, considering I’m a stranger to you.”
“Not that we’ve now been introduced. With Lady Heathecoute’s permission, perhaps there’s room on your dance card for me, if it’s not filled with notes—I mean names.”
Millicent had to think quickly. The last thing she wanted was Lord Dunraven looking at her card. She didn’t want anyone looking at it.
No wonder he was considered one of the Terrible Threesome. He was a scandalous earl. He was openly flirting with her in front of the viscountess at one moment and trying to get her into trouble the next—proof that the earl of Dunraven was not a man she could afford to have anything to do with—no matter how utterly charming he was.
“How very kind of you to offer, my lord, but I’m afraid I can’t accept any more invitations tonight. I believe her ladyship is eager for us to go on to the next party she has planned for us this evening.”
“Balderdash, Millicent, dear,” Lady Heathecoute cooed as softly as was possible given her strong voice. “We’ll forego the next party if we must. Have a dance with the earl. That’s what the Season is for, isn’t it? Dancing the night away. In fact, I believe the next one is about to start. Is this dance taken, dear? Let me see. Where is your card?”
Millicent clutched her reticule tighter and smiled sweetly at her ladyship. “Ah—no. There’s no need to look. I’m sure this dance is open.”
“Then it’s settled, if you are free, my lord?” the viscountess said.
“Indeed, I am.” He extended his arm for Millicent. “May I have this dance?”
Not trusting herself to speak, there was nothing for her to do but graciously agree with a slight nod. She lightly placed her hand on the crook of his arm and walked with him to the dance floor.
“It’s impolite to decline a dance with an earl,” he said.
Millicent turned to look at him and saw by the glint in his eyes and the half grin on his lips that he was teasing her, not reprimanding her for ill manners.
She lifted her chin a notch. “Not when the earl’s flagrant reputation precedes him.”
“So you’ve been in London long enough to hear all the tittle-tattle.”
“Surely not all there is, but enough to make me wary of you and a few others. Besides what I’ve heard about you, I have firsthand knowledge of your abilities.”
“My abilities, Miss Blair?” he questioned. “I’m not certain which abilities you are referring to.”
“Your roguish ones, sir.”
He smiled again, one that was full of genuine amusement. It should have irritated Millicent immensely that he found such pleasure in her discomfort, but for reasons unknown to her his attitude didn’t bother her.
But she wasn’t prepared to let him know that. “You were positively forward last night when you happened upon me in that darkened hallway.”
“Forward? Did you think so?”
“Certainly.”
“I thought I behaved like a perfect gentleman.”
They walked by a group of people and Millicent noticed that every one of them watched her as they passed. Her aunt would not like it that she had this kind of attention. Oh, how had she caught the eye of one of the Terrible Threesome? And what was she going to do about it?
She drew in her breath with a soft gasp and asked, “Perfect?”
“Yes.”
“A gentleman?”
“Yes.”
“What rubbish you speak, sir. It was unquestionably bold of you to have brushed my hand when you gave me your pencil last evening. A true gentleman would not have allowed that to happen.”
He turned to her, a well-pleased expression on his face. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“How could I not? It was so… unexpected,” she said, remembering the delightful tingle that jolted through her at his brief touch.
Lord Dunraven nodded to a beautiful woman and a gentleman dressed in a military uniform before answering her by saying, “And we were both wearing gloves. You are obviously a very sensitive woman, Miss Blair. I shall remember that.”
Millicent could have bitten her tongue out for even bringing up the incident. It was clear she would not get the upper hand with this man. Why had she mentioned that touch? Because she hadn’t been able to forget about it. The contact was no more than a butterfly’s brush, but she had felt it all the way down to her toes. He was right, she was sensitive to everything about him. His mere presence had her senses on alert.