The Unlikely Lady (Playful Brides #3)(25)

“Then I suppose it’s nice to meet you, whoever you are,” she said with a musical laugh. It sparked a memory he couldn’t quite place in his hazy brain.

“The pleasure is entirely mine, my lady,” he replied with the most roguish grin he could muster, the one that made him popular with the ladies in London.

Miss Blue opened her mouth to speak. “Oh, I’m not a lady, I’m—”

“Shh,” he said in a husky voice, daring to put his finger to her lips. They were warm and soft and— He shook himself. Best not to think about that. “You’re a lady tonight. You’re Lady Blue.”

Her laughter followed again. “Very well, and you are? Lord Green?”

“I like that name. I like it very much.” He executed a sweeping bow, though how he managed to right himself afterward was anyone’s guess. “Would you care to dance?” Dancing probably wasn’t the best idea, but how could Garrett resist a pairing with a charming, lovely, well-endowed young woman?

He offered his arm and Lady Blue merely nodded and took it without saying a word. Garrett pulled her into his arms just as a waltz began to play. Thank God for his many drunken nights of revelry in London. He had experience dancing and appearing to be sober when he was anything but, though mostly in his much younger days.

Lady Blue, it turned out, was a young lady of few words. Pity that. Weren’t the loveliest ladies the ones who rarely spoke? The most annoying ladies, such as Miss Lowndes, were the ones who wouldn’t stop speaking. He shook his head. Why was he thinking about Miss Lowndes at a time like this? Where was that woman at any rate? No doubt she’d begged off, claiming a headache, and was ensconced in the library with a book. He searched the ballroom. At least Isabella was still far across the room.

This was exactly what he needed, a harmless flirtation with a lady. His guilt over Isabella and his annoyance with Miss Lowndes had him feeling out of sorts. He was usually charming with ladies. Charming and friendly, certainly welcomed. Miss Lowndes was the only woman who seemed to dislike his company and Isabella was the only beautiful woman he could remember whose company he rebuffed.

For all that Lady Blue didn’t speak, she was a proficient dancer, but the waltzing was making his dizziness worse. He needed to stop before he spun this divine young woman straight into the refreshment table. Bad form, that. “Would you care to go for a walk?”

“A walk?” Her voice was slightly breathless. The niggling feeling in the back of his mind remained. He’d heard that voice before.

“Yes. I find that dancing is a bit too … much for me at present,” he replied.

She hesitated. “Where shall we walk to?”

“The gallery?” he offered. A walk in the cool corridor outside the upper floor might be just what he needed. He could pretend to show her the portraits on the walls and hopefully shake off this stupor.

“Very well,” she agreed magnanimously.

Garrett pressed his lips together to keep from sighing his relief. She was gorgeous and agreeable. A delightful combination.

They stopped and moved off the dance floor. Garrett put his hand against the small of her back and ushered her in front of him out of the ballroom and into the quiet corridor. “This way.” He pointed toward the right where they rounded a corner and proceeded up the staircase to the gallery.

“Do you know the Monroe family quite well then?” the lady asked. She leaned on his arm a bit heavily and he could have sworn she tripped a little on the way up the stairs. Was she in her cups too?

“Yes, actually. I’ve known them for years. I was raised not far from here. How long have you known them?”

“I’ve only known Lady Cassandra since her come-out. She’s marvelous.”

Another familiar niggle, but he brushed it aside. He was certain he’d know this beauty if he’d met her before. The alcohol was doing funny things to his mind. Blast that Monroe.

When they came to the end of the corridor, Garrett stopped and gestured to the portraits. “Here we are.”

“There are so many of them. Though I must admit, I find them difficult to see. Who’s that?” She gestured to one in particular.

“It’s the second earl, I believe. There’s an even better rendering of him in this drawing room.” He pointed toward a door down the corridor. “Care to see it?”

*

Jane didn’t know what to think. First, the handsome stranger in the green mask had asked her to dance. Well, from what she could see of him, he was handsome. Then he had asked her to view the gallery with him. Now, if she didn’t know better—and she didn’t know better—she’d think he was asking her to go into a drawing room with him, alone. It was beyond scandalous and inappropriate.

And it was absolutely perfect. She’d wanted a scandal to present itself and present itself it had, in the form of Lord Green.

Jane shivered. What was it about taking off her spectacles that made her feel so … scandalous? Perhaps it was because a handsome gentleman had never shown the slightest interest in her before? Perhaps it was because she’d never had the slightest inclination to return that interest? But there was something about this tall, dark man that made her want to go into the drawing room with him alone … even if they were only going to view an old painting. Not that she didn’t like paintings—she adored the British Museum and spent absolute days there getting lost among the displays, carefully studying the lines of the Rubenses and the strokes in the Gainsboroughs. She could examine a Botticelli for hours on end. But she seriously doubted a painting of Cass’s ancestor would keep her attention longer than a moment or two. Not to mention she couldn’t see a thing at present. No, it was Lord Green who was keeping her attention.