Nicole Jordan - To Bed a Beaty

“Why don’t you simply tell Arden the truth? Your motives were not so devious, after all.”

Roslyn laughed outright. “I doubt he would understand my desire to make Lord Haviland fall in love with me. And the less I have to do with the Duke of Arden the better.”

Her lips pursing in amusement, Fanny waved a hand airily down the sidelines. “Clearly not everyone feels the same as you do.”

Following her gaze, Roslyn saw Arden in conversation with a half dozen of the other wedding guests. Not surprisingly he was the center of attention-and not merely because he was a scion of the nobility. His magnetic, commanding presence drew the eye. That, along with a breathtaking virility, made every member of the female sex take notice.

“The ladies are obviously eager to shower him with attention,” Roslyn agreed.

“Not just the ladies,” Fanny countered. “The young bucks in London all try to mimic his sporting exploits. And he is well respected for his political views by the Whigs and many of the Tories as well. Arden takes his seat in the House of Lords quite seriously.”

She raised an eyebrow. That the duke was a sportsman was obvious, to judge by his well-muscled shoulders and limbs, but that he would be interested in governing the country did indeed surprise her.

Roslyn shook her head. “No doubt he is a perfect paragon, but he is a trifle too arrogant for my tastes. The night of the Cyprians’ ball, he clearly expected me to fall swooning at his feet.”

“Arrogant, perhaps, but handsome, you must admit,” Fanny prodded.

It was true, Roslyn thought, the duke was devastatingly handsome. His hair was dark blond, a rich shade of amber, and he had the aristocratic, beautifully carved features of a fallen angel.

But physical beauty had never impressed her much. Appearance had little to do with the true measure of a man. She herself had been misjudged far too often because of her looks, for many people automatically assumed she had no brains or substance of character.

Indeed, Roslyn had always seen her beauty as something of a curse. And she suspected Arden might have been subjected to a similar prejudice. With his dark gold hair, his lithe elegance, his polished address, he was the model of masculine perfection. Roslyn had to admit, however, that she found his sardonic smile more appealing than any of his other physical attributes, since it made him seem a little less perfect and more human.

Of course, she had experienced several of his other devastatingly masculine attributes firsthand. She could remember with startling vividness the hardness of his body, his magical hands, his hot, searching mouth…

Scolding herself, she sat up straighter in her chair. She had vowed to drive those erotic images from her memory and never dwell on them again.

Unquestionably, however, she wasn’t the only female here tonight to find Arden appealing. One of the most flirtatious and troublesome pupils at their academy, Miss Sybil Newstead, was gazing up at him admiringly-ogling him, in fact-and hanging on his every word. Yet when the girl brazenly reached out to touch the sleeve of his elegant coat, he slowly lifted an eyebrow and stared down at her clutching fingers until Sybil snatched her hand away.

At the deep flush staining her cheeks, Roslyn couldn’t help but smile at how his cool hauteur had depressed the little hussy’s pretensions.

“You should take note of her miscalculation, Roslyn,” Fanny remarked sagely. “There is an art to dealing with experienced noblemen of Arden’s stamp, and that bold young minx is an utter novice.”

“I am very much a novice also,” she said thoughtfully, “despite what you have tried to teach me.”

Fanny’s mouth curved in a teasing smile. “Perhaps you should ask the duke to advise you. If you could learn to attract a man like him, you can be sure the ploys would work on Lord Haviland.”

Her suggestion made Roslyn laugh again. “I cannot imagine the illustrious Duke of Arden sinking so low as to help me capture a husband.” Her friend was jesting, of course, although no doubt Arden could teach her more than a thing or two about the attributes he found desirable in a mistress.

She was precluded from further considering the possibility when her sister Lily joined them.

“Please, you have to save me,” Lily lamented, sinking into the seat next to Roslyn.

“Save you?”

“From Winifred’s infuriating attempts at matchmaking. I vow she is driving me to distraction.”

By Winifred, she meant Lady Freemantle, the patroness of their academy.

“What has she done that is so terrible?” Fanny asked curiously.

“She is set on throwing me at the Marquess of Claybourne.”

Fanny’s brows drew together. “How so?”

“She practically begged him to dance with me and then prosed on and on about what an exemplary young lady I am. His lordship could scarcely keep a straight face.”

“That is a crime indeed.”

“It is no laughing matter, Fanny!” Lily said in exasperation. “It is utterly mortifying to be dragged before an eligible nobleman and exhibited like a heifer at a fair.” Lily shifted her attention to her sister. “I came to warn you, Roslyn. Next, Winifred will be trying to arrange a match for you with Arden, for she hinted as much.”

The prospect of enduring Winifred’s machinations unsettled Roslyn, while Fanny found it highly amusing. “I doubt she will have much success,” Fanny said. “Matrons have marked Arden as a target for their unwed daughters for years. He’s been chased mercilessly by designing females of all ages since he left off short coats, yet no one has come close to catching him. Trust me, he is aware of every trick and stratagem. Not even Lady Freemantle could ensnare the elusive duke unless he wishes to be caught. Or the marquess either.”

“Even so, I don’t mean to let her carry her wretched intrigues any further,” Lily declared.

Roslyn quelled a smile at her sister’s earnestness. Lily would rather have her fingernails torn out than play the mating game that was eagerly embraced by most young ladies of quality.

“It would be impolite,” Lily added, “to abandon the celebrations before the late supper is served, but afterward…I hope to convince Tess that we should leave early. I trust you don’t mind, Roslyn. I will be happy to return tomorrow to help you put the Hall to rights again, but you will have to excuse me tonight.”

The two sisters planned to spend tonight at the house of their close friend, Tess Blanchard, to give the newlyweds privacy on their wedding night. It would only be for this one night, since Arabella and Marcus would embark on their wedding trip tomorrow morning. “I don’t mind if you go home early with Tess, Lily, but I will need to remain until the last guests depart.”

“Perhaps you can ask Winifred to take you to Tess’s in her carriage. Her ladyship will stay till the last dance, if I know her.”

“Winifred won’t mind, I’m certain,” Roslyn said. “But you and I should say farewell privately to Arabella before you go.”

“Of course.” Lily offered her a smile of gratitude and relief and then rose to her feet. “Pray excuse me. I need to find Tess and ask her to sacrifice for me just this once. She was so looking forward to this evening, and I hate to spoil her enjoyment. But now the pleasure is entirely spoiled for me, too. At least Tess will likely sympathize with my plight, since she has been the victim of Winifred’s maddening matchmaking schemes before.”

Fanny rose also. “I had best go myself, since I have promised dances to several gentlemen, and I cannot afford to disappoint them. May I bring you some punch or a glass of wine first, Roslyn?”

“Thank you, no, Fanny. I need to check in on the kitchens shortly to be certain the preparations for supper are proceeding smoothly, but for the moment, I only want to sit quietly.”