Kasey Michaels - How to Beguile a Beauty

Indeed, even Baron Justin Wilde had spent the entirety of his second dance with her extolling Tanner’s virtues, telling her how humbled and honored he was to have such a friend in his time of need. She had agreed with him without offering further explanation.

Ever since that dance, while she was being partnered by a seemingly endless succession of gentlemen who had seemed able to have managed to avoid noticing her during previous social events and balls, Lydia had been convincing herself that Sarah and Maisie had been wrong, that she herself had been wrong, wishing for something that wasn’t there.

Tanner was a good friend, and nothing more; he had other obligations. Honorable, loyal. Rather like a good hunting hound, Nicole would probably have said in some disgust.

But she, Lydia, had been seeing more. Not at first, no, but ever since her return to London she had been looking at the Duke of Malvern in a new light. One in which he was not obscured by the ghost of Captain Swain Fitzgerald standing between them.

And she’d begun weaving fanciful dreams. She’d deliberately refused to think about Jasmine Harburton, especially when Nicole had pointed out that a man about to be betrothed did not spend so much time squiring another young woman about London, poking into museums, dancing with her at balls.

Now she understood Tanner’s dilemma. His reluctant feet were being slowly bound up by his damnable sense of honor. It was a marvel the man could even take two steps without falling down.

“Oh, look, the musicians have returned,” Jasmine said, pointing toward the small stage with her fan. “I am promised to a Mister Rupert Carstairs for this next set, whoever he is. I think he’s fairly ugly, but I was so amazed to have so many asking to partner me that I could hardly refuse him, could I? Who has written on your card?”

Lydia snapped herself back to attention and opened her dance card. Wildest. “The Baron. Oh, dear, and I think it’s going to be a Scottish reel. I loathe the Scottish reel, but only because I seem to constantly forget the steps.”

Jasmine looked out over the floor as couples began assembling for the dance. “I don’t see the baron, do you? Oh, here comes Mr. Carstairs. Such a pity he has no chin, don’t you think? Shame on me. Nobody dances with me save Tanner, since everyone seems to think I’m out of the marriage mart. Without a title or a huge dowry, I’m good only for filling one of these chairs. And there’s Tanner. But the baron isn’t with him.”

Lydia looked up and saw the duke at once. He was alone, and looking quite serious. And, ah, so very handsome. She’d have to stop thinking of him as handsome.

“Ladies,” he said, bowing to them both, his gaze seeming to linger on Jasmine in a…well, in an appraising sort of way. “Lady Lydia, I’m here to tender the baron’s deepest apologies, as he’s found it necessary to leave without honoring your dance, and to offer myself in his place. Jasmine, where’s Mrs. Shandy? We can’t leave you here alone.”

“Oh,” Jasmine said, looking to her left as if only now noticing that her chaperone had gone missing. “She said something about seeing if there were any Gunther Ices still in the supper room downstairs. But no matter, Tanner. My partner is standing just behind you.” She leaned to her right and waggled her fingers at the tall, rather thin and, yes, chinless gentleman. “Hullo again, Mr. Carstairs.”

“She’s such a child,” Tanner said as he held out his hand to Lydia, drawing her to her feet. “How are you two getting along? She hasn’t yet talked off your ear?”

“She’s delightful company, Tanner. I don’t think I’ve had time to miss Nicole at all tonight, although I would give much to hear my sister’s opinion of your cousin. And we’ve both danced every dance.”

“Would you then care to take the air on the balcony, rather than face the floor again? As I recall, you don’t much favor the Scottish reel.”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Yet I don’t recall ever mentioning that I don’t care for the Scottish reel.”

“You never have,” he told her as he steered them along the edge of the dance floor. She already believed she could feel a pleasant drop in the temperature as they neared the opened French doors.

“But you noticed.” Lydia realized that, only a few hours ago, she might have attempted to see more in his notice than was actually there. “Did the baron take ill?”

Tanner stepped over the low threshold that led onto the balcony, and then assisted her so that she wouldn’t stumble. “In some ways, yes, I suppose he did. An unexpected bout of conscience I believe. The evening hasn’t been what he expected, although I can’t say I know what he did expect.”

“He has very sad eyes,” Lydia said as they turned to walk down the length of the balcony. It was a beautiful night, filled with stars. There were so few nights like this in London. Having Tanner beside her made this one even more special.

“I should tell him you said so. They’d go well with his funereal black clothes and planned scowl.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Tanner said, stopping as they neared a shallow set of stone steps leading down into the darkened gardens. “Shall we?”

There were other couples strolling the balcony, and a few had ventured down into the gardens. But as Tanner turned them to the right, along a side path lined with high hedges, they could have suddenly been alone in the center of the huge metropolis.

It was, she realized, the first time they’d ever been alone. Really alone.

Her heart pounded in her chest and she willed it to slow its furious beat.

He wasn’t hers, he couldn’t be hers. He was as unattainable as Fitz, and her memories of that good man which seemed to soften and fade with each passing day. How she hated that. How she’d hate seeing Tanner fade that same way.

They strolled slowly, her arm still in his.

“He was uncomfortable, wasn’t he?” she asked at last, feeling the need to fill the silence. Dear Lord, was she becoming Jasmine?

“Justin? Yes, he was. His welcome back to Society wasn’t all he’d perhaps imagined it might be, considering that many of the supposed gentlemen here tonight didn’t cavil at being friendly with him during the years he was in exile. I think it came as a shock to him. No one was more popular than Justin our first Seasons in town, more sought after.”

“And now he is a pariah. Two of my dance partners warned me away from him. The third felt the need to go into rather descriptive detail on the matter of the baron’s crime. And all three of them told me that you should be ashamed for having foisted such an unwelcome creature on the ton in general and on two innocent young women in particular. Actually, I think that’s why they danced with me, so that I could deliver their messages to you.”

“Bloody cowards.” Tanner led her to a wrought-iron bench at the side of the path and they sat down, facing each other in the moonlight. “I’m sorry, Lydia.”

She smiled slightly, and forced some gaiety into her voice. “Oh, no, don’t be. At first I thought this sudden popularity among the gentlemen might be traced to the gown, or to the fact that Nicole isn’t here. I was rather relieved to learn that neither of those things was true. So you think I’m right, that our dance partners were using Jasmine and me to convey a message to you, and through you, to the baron?”

“Probably, yes. Give me their names. Was one of them Lord Molton?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to tell you any of their names. Nicole would have left each one of them standing alone on the dance floor, not caring a whit that she was causing quite the scene. But I’m not that courageous, I’m afraid. I merely informed them all in turn that I was not your guardian. I thought it a rather clever riposte at the time, but perhaps not.”