A Taste of Desire(65)
The object of their reverence—perched obscenely high on her self-appointed pedestal—glided into the room, much too imperial to walk like lesser mortals.
She was still beautiful, sheathed in a ball gown of ice blue silk and white lace, her hair a profusion of pearls weaved in between ringlets of blond curls. But he’d expected as much. Louisa possessed too much vanity to permit time to taint her God-given looks.
During their last encounter, his emotions had been in a state of upheaval, his pride in tatters. He was gratified to discover he could now observe her with a detachment only time and distance could bring.
Surrounded by some of her boot-scraping admirers, Louisa accepted their attentions with the due of a queen. In the midst of the gaggle of fawning peers, she shot an idle glance about, her smile masking bored sufferance—he now knew that pasty smile for what it was. Thomas angled himself in her direct line of vision. She would spot him soon enough.
As evidenced by the brief rounding of her eyes, she did so moments later. But her smile didn’t falter and their eye contact was brief. She calmly continued to nod imperious greetings to the guests surrounding her.
Motionless amid the swirling masses, Thomas was certain it would only be a matter of time. Before long, she lightly touched the gloved arm of Lady Forsham and with the tip of her chin, gestured in his direction. Within seconds, she and their hostess were making their way toward him.
The speed at which she’d separated herself from a group that included the ranks of the Earl of Radcliffe and the Marquess of Stratford brought Thomas no satisfaction. Once upon a time, he would have experienced a sense of triumph, of vindication. Currently, he felt nothing save the irritation that she’d succeeded in forcing him to seek her out.
They reached his side after several unsuccessful attempts by other guests to waylay them.
Lady Forsham reached out and lightly touched the sleeve of his jacket as she beamed a wide smile up at him. “Lord Armstrong, Her Grace has requested an introduction.”
“I daresay, I don’t believe we are in need of an official introduction. Her Grace and I met many years ago, did we not?”
Louisa merely inclined her chin, a small smile on her lips as Lady Forsham’s gaze darted between them before a dawning look of comprehension altered her expression. “Then this is altogether truly delightful. I am certain you will want to reacquaint yourselves.”
At this point, Thomas thought she would have gone merrily on her way, but she did not. Instead, she remained rooted in place wearing an expectant look on her face. An awkward silence followed. Then, as if the countess finally realized they would hardly be inclined to renew their acquaintance with her standing in avid earshot, she executed a small curtsey before turning and disappearing into the throng of partygoers.
What followed her departure was a silence the width and breadth of the Andes. Louisa effectively bridged the silence, stepping closer, her mouth set in a moue. “Would it have wounded that accursed pride of yours to respond to even one of my letters? You, sir, are a fiend to put me in a position that I should be forced to take up pursuit. That is supposed to be the gentleman’s privilege.”
Thomas cocked his brow and retreated a step. So refreshingly forward. Good, it gave him leave to be just as forthright.
“And here I thought my lack of response would clearly indicate my disinterest. If I’d known you required I put it in writing, I would have done so immediately.”
She winced. A bit of a farce if he’d ever seen one—as if she’d taken an egregious hit. After their acquaintance had met its dramatic demise, he’d thought of her as the queen—or duchess as it were—of deception. That’s when he could think about her without the rage and the feeling of betrayal and humiliation.
“Perhaps you’d care to find somewhere more”—Louisa shot a glance around at the ebullient crowds—”private to talk. It’s much too noisy in here for us to carry on a proper conversation. I’ve much to tell you. Much I think you might wish to hear.”
Thomas deliberately took in their position by the colonnade and the potted plants, which offered as much privacy from the crush as they would get anywhere in the room. “This looks to be private enough for me to say what I must.” He paused a beat. “I want you to stop.”
Two faint lines appeared on her forehead as though the final word bitten out through his clenched jaw surprised her.
“Calling on my mistress was low even for you.”
Her brown eyes darkened at the insult.