Kasey Michaels - The Regency Redgraves - What an Earl Wants / What a Lady Needs / What a Gentleman Desires / What a Hero Dares

“You don’t have to sound so pleased,” she pointed out as he helped her onto the flagway and into the light cast by the large flambeaux flanking the front door of the mansion. “Anyone would think we’re on our way to a fair. Should I be prepared to watch as you balance a ball on your nose?”

“No, but I may kiss my wife on the nose while on the dance floor, just to remind everyone that I am husband to the most beautiful, desirable woman in the room. Listen closely, and you’ll hear the gnashing of envious teeth, not because of the kiss, but because they will all know what’s going to happen once I take you home. Poor devils. I have never been accused of being a particularly nice man.”

“Or particularly modest, either, I’d imagine. What makes you believe anything at all will happen once you take me home?”

Gideon extended his arm to her, and she slipped hers around his elbow as they entered the mansion and crossed to the now empty staircase. “Two things, really. One, I’m a hopeful man by nature. And two, I am fully prepared to grovel.”

Jessica’s delightful peal of laughter had just the effect Gideon had been striving for, as everyone at the top of the stairs turned to look down at the approaching couple. What they saw, he knew, was a beautiful, flame-haired creature dressed in the first stare of fashion, her exquisitely designed ivory gown alight with spangles, the Redgrave diamonds at her throat, wrist and fingers catching every bit of light thrown by the huge chandelier above their heads—all put in the shade by the genuine, open smile of a woman totally at ease with herself and her world.

His wife. His countess. Not his penance, not his love, yet not simply his possession. Just his . And Gideon Redgrave protected what was his.

“Gideon, you monster, I thought you were going to snub me!” Sally Jersey called down from the receiving line. “Instead, you’ve brought me a present—the coup of the Season thus far, and most probably forever.”

Gideon bowed over Lady Jersey’s hand even as Jessica dropped into a graceful curtsy.

“And now you owe me a favor, Silence, my dear,” he said quietly. “I wish a waltz to immediately follow the announcement of my arrival. Now, now, don’t open your pretty mouth to tell me that’s impossible. You may not yet condone the thing at your dreary Almacks, but does society really dictate to Sally Jersey in her own home?”

“You court scandal as others crave their daily bread,” the countess whispered back, but then summoned a liveried footman, to send him scurrying off to inform the small orchestra of her demand. “Here, as I was just about to leave my post, anyway, I’ll walk between you as you enter the ballroom, to lend you my consequence, not that you need it. By the way, the dowager countess is here, titillating us all as usual, and holding court over a veritable coterie of young admirers, all rigged out in their regimental colors. She arrived on Selsby’s arm, and he’s been virtually sitting at her feet all the evening long, like some hopeful puppy. The man is barely out of leading strings when compared to Trixie, Gideon. You don’t suppose the two of them are—No, I won’t even say the words.”

“Please don’t or I might blush, and that wouldn’t do wonders for my consequence.” He stopped just at the entrance to the ballroom and lifted his quizzing glass to his eye. “You’ve got the entire world here, haven’t you, all cheek by jowl? My congratulations, not that I’m surprised. Tell me, did you deign to invite Lord Charles Mailer or the Right Honorable Archibald Urban?”

The countess looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Why? What did they do? Is it delicious? Are you going to cause a scene?”

“Not at all. Are they here?”

“I shouldn’t answer, not when you’re going to drive me wild with speculation. But, yes, they’re both here. Lord Charles and his little mouse of a bride, Archie Urban and his patently unhappy spouse. But I’ll let you find them on your own.” She turned and nodded to a servant on her right, who immediately puffed himself up and announced the arrival of the Earl of Saltwood and his lady countess in a suitably stentorian tone.

The reaction was all Gideon could have hoped for. Conversations cut off. Heads turned. He bowed over Sally’s hand and then extended his left arm to Jessica a heartbeat before the orchestra struck up the scandalous waltz.

“Take my hand.”

“Should I point out I’ve only waltzed with my dancing master, a less formal country waltz at that, and it was over five years ago, sans musical accompaniment?” Jessica asked as she put her hand in his and he drew her out onto the floor. “Something you might have considered before pulling me along after you like some tricked-out pony expected to perform.”

But she was smiling as she said it, so that Gideon’s heart, which admittedly skipped a beat at this news, calmed once more. “I’m not putting you on show, although it occurs to me now you might think so. Sally, who owes me more than a single favor, has just bestowed her stamp of approval, and we are going to, pardon my crudity, milk that teat for all it’s worth.” He took her hand in his. “Are you ready?”

Jessica stepped back, dropping into a curtsy even as she seemingly effortlessly found the silken ring of fabric on her gown and slipped her finger through it, raising the right side of her overskirt so that it would float through every dip and turn of the dance. “I’ll want to hear more about this promised groveling, my lord, I believe,” she said as his hand went to her waist, her arm lifted to his shoulder. “In detail.”

Now it was Gideon’s laughter that drew the attention of anyone who had not already noticed the stunningly handsome couple standing together on the otherwise deserted dance floor. “You’re a wicked woman, Jessica Redgrave.”

“Agreed. But first, we dance our waltz. I’m confident it’s much like riding a horse. It shouldn’t take me more than a few moments to recall the movements.”

“You do ride well,” he agreed, tongue-in-cheek as he eased her into the first turn of the waltz. “I’d have to term your movements exemplary.”

“Although doubtless capable of improvement, with repetition.” And then she winked at him. His mind flashed a quick, taunting image of her above him, her breasts bare, her head thrown back as he gripped her hips, as their bodies melded. He very nearly trod on her toes.

Oh, good, she’s not a stickler , Kate had said. We’ve no simpering miss here , Trixie had declared.

And they’d both been correct.

Because what they had here , what Gideon had found—and he knew he could take no credit for the discovery—was the most magnificent creature in the world, a rare combination of beauty and bravery, intelligence and humor, goodness and fire.

Together, Jessica as light as any feather in his arms, they whirled about the dance floor as, two-by-two, other couples dared to join in the scandalous waltz. Their eyes remained locked on each other, their smiles hinting of things that put onlookers to the blush, breaking every rule, and wonderfully so, spending perhaps their first true moments together, their most personal moment of discovery here, in Sally Jersey’s candlelit ballroom, in the midst of all of the ton .

It was above all things amazing. And wonderful. And humbling.

His wife. His countess. And yes, quite possibly, one day soon, his love .

THEY MADE THE ROUNDS OF the ballroom for over an hour, Jessica’s head positively spinning from all the introductions, all the names and faces that seemed to swim in front of her eyes as she clung to Gideon’s arm.

There were a few whose greetings were rather strained, as if they were being polite only under duress, and more than one or two of the highest sticklers quickly found their way to the supper room in order to avoid the couple completely without being forced to give them the cut direct. But that was of no matter.