The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(11)

Good Lord, she was flying into pure fancy now. Edwin was only making a point, as usual. Whatever “yearning” she saw was all in her head. And she didn’t want him to have any yearning anyway. Because that could easily lead in an entirely unpleasant direction, as she knew only too well.

“Come now,” she said, “you must admit you never show me any attention of that kind. That’s why I’m forced to accept offers from men like the major. You rarely attend balls and even if you do, you don’t ask me to stand up with you.” She smirked at him. “So you see, it’s all your fault that I must entertain myself with fools.”

His face darkened. “I have asked you to dance with me.”

“Once. At my debut. But not since.”

That seemed to startle him, for he glanced away. “Has it really been that long since we stood up together?”

“Seven years. The last time was at my very first ball. And even that was out of pity.”

He scowled at her. “It was not.”

“No? Yvette didn’t put you up to it? Beg you not to leave me hanging out there, waiting for someone to ask me?”

“She didn’t have to beg,” he grumbled. “I agreed to it readily.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she said lightly. “I’m sure you found a dance with a na?ve young chit like me perfectly boring.”

“Now that is patently untrue.” Something indecipherable leapt into his eyes that made a delicious shiver skitter down her spine. “I may find you provoking and impetuous and reckless at times, but never once have I found you boring.”

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, catapulted back to the memory of her come-out. Nervous and anxious after all the “advice” Mama had given her, she’d stood quaking at the edge of the floor, certain that no one would ask her to stand up with him. So when her best friend’s brother had asked, she’d nearly kissed him right then and there. It had shown her a new side of Edwin—the one that was an eligible gentleman, and not just an irritating brotherly planet in the orbit of her friend.

Now, as they glided through the dance once more in perfect accord, it was as if they relived that night. The rhythm had beaten through both of them, matching her frenzied pulse at having her first dance with a real man. The scent of a hundred beeswax candles had swirled about the room, along with a glittering throng of young beauties and their beaus.

His eyes had shone more softly upon her in that moment than ever before. The way they shone now.

This time when his silvery gaze drifted down, it was to fix on her mouth. Her mouth. Oh, heavens. A sensation startled to life in her stomach that she had never thought to feel for Edwin. Unsettling. Provocative.

Absolutely unacceptable.

“So,” she said, to break the spell, “have you determined which woman you might wish to court?”

His face closed up. “Not yet.”

“You have no one in mind? Not a single person?”

“Well, when you put it that way . . . I suppose Lady Horatia Wise is a possibility.”

“Admiral Nelson’s goddaughter? She’s a pillar of ice. You wouldn’t want her, to be sure. She’d freeze you right out of your bed.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Miss Trevor, then.”

“A pillar of rock. Stubborn as a mule, or so I’m told. The two of you would butt heads until your heads fell off, and then where would you be? Besides, no one had ever heard of her until she came into society with her aunt, which I find highly suspicious.”

The words earned her another rare smile. “So whom do you propose? Lady Anne? Lady Maribella?”

“Horrors! Lady Anne wears ridiculous hats. And Lady Maribella has the silliest laugh I’ve ever heard. It would drive you mad in under a month.”

He cocked his head. “What happened to your playing matchmaker? You’re doing rather the opposite of that.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She could hardly admit that the idea of his actually marrying someone—anyone—seemed wrong somehow. He was meant to be always a bachelor. As she intended to be always a spinster.

The waltz ended and he led her from the floor, allowing her to survey the eligible women in the room.

“Let me see,” she said. “What about Lady Jane Walker? She lost her mother recently and might be eager to get away from the memories her house probably provokes.”

“I was engaged to a Jane. I hardly want another.”

“Then Lady Beatrice. She’s very pretty.”

“And thus will expect plenty of pretty compliments. Which, as you know, I’m not good at.”

“Miss Lamont?”

“Too French. I don’t really understand Frenchwomen. Or Frenchmen, for that matter.” Instead of taking her back to where her mother and the major stood, he made a sharp turn toward the refreshments room. “Speaking of Frenchmen, have you seen any sign of Durand?”

“No. And Major Wilkins said he wasn’t in attendance.”

“Thank God.”

She eyed him closely. “Since that’s the case, it’s fine if you want to go home. I know how much you hate these things.”

“I’m not leaving without you and your mother, and it’s early yet for you.” He met her gaze. “But if you don’t mind, I may escape to the card room for a bit.”