Julia Justiss - Rogue's Lady

As if startled, he stopped and turned to her, his brilliant blue eyes lighting again as he smiled. “That wit again! Bravo!” Moving closer, he squeezed her hand, his voice taking on a caressing tone. “I knew the instant I saw you tonight that you would delight…all of me.”

It was delicious nonsense…but it was also highly improper. Regretfully Allegra halted and removed her hand from his arm. “Lord Tavener, may I remind you that this is not the Cyprian’s Ball and I am neither a lightskirt nor a loose-moraled matron whose fancy you can capture. If you would return me to my chaperone, please?”

Having braced herself for irritation or anger, she was totally unprepared for his peal of laughter.

While she looked on, wide-eyed, he controlled his mirth. “Blast, Miss Antinori, but you are quite right. Pray accept my apologies! It’s just that, having gone about so little in good society, I have no idea how to talk to a gently bred maiden. My attempts at Lucilla’s dinner earlier were abysmal failures. You are so lovely, I was distracted clean out of renewing those efforts.”

The appealing look from those penetrating blue eyes proclaimed his absolute honesty. Allegra simply couldn’t help it—she was charmed…and curious.

“Excuse me, but I can’t believe you could fail to entertain even a young, inexperienced maiden. Especially a young and inexperienced one.”

“Oh, believe it! Either my appearance, my compliments—or the tales told about me—frightened one young lady into a silence that lasted throughout the meal. My conversational attempts with the other met with total failure until a desperate remark about fashion set her off on a monologue so full of tedious detail, I was ready to stab myself with a dessert fork just to escape the room.”

His look of comical dismay set her chuckling. Before she could reprove his exaggeration, he continued, “You laugh, but ’tis no jesting matter! I’m sure in my absence, if you were not already aware of it, Lord Lynton has acquainted you with my scandalous reputation. My cousin Lady Domcaster insists that I try to reestablish myself. However, if I am not able to successfully converse with proper ladies, I might as well abandon the attempt at once. Unless…” He drew the word out, gazing down into her eyes.

Intrigued in spite of herself, she echoed, “Unless?”

“Miss Antinori, in addition to being the loveliest girl in the room—no, forgive me, but you must allow the compliment, for it is simple truth—you have shown yourself both observant and clever. Might I impose upon you…might I beg you to instruct me?”

She stared at him. “Instruct you?”

“On how to make proper conversation that is agreeable to young ladies. I know about as much about respectable females as I do about the mysteries of the Orient. Unless I learn, and learn quickly, I haven’t a prayer of being received by the families of eligible young women.” He paused, frowning. “May I be shockingly blunt?”

“I prefer plain dealing, sir,” she replied, caught up in his tale despite her better judgment.

Once again that smile lit up his eyes. “I thought you might! Lucilla insists I should look for a wife—a rich wife with a fortune that could restore my estate, of whose dilapidated condition I’m sure Lynton already warned you.”

He gave her a wry, self-deprecating look. “Frankly, though I’m an amusing enough fellow when I choose to be, I sincerely doubt any respectable lady will want to take on so unlikely a husband. But I’ve promised Lucilla I’d make an attempt, so here I am, self-accused of being both a fortune hunter and a rake, throwing my poor body into the fray. A rake who earnestly seeks to be reformed. Will you not have pity and rescue me, Miss Antinori?”

Beneath the flippancy of his words she sensed a social isolation almost like her own. Perhaps because of that, she was tempted to accept his challenge. Except that behind the arresting intensity of his gaze lurked something deep, sensual. That same masculine allure that had led Molly to capitulate all those summers ago and warned Allegra that spending time with Tavener, despite his avowed desire to reform, would be dangerous.

“It would be more proper for Lady Domcaster to instruct you,” Allegra replied at last. “Not that I am not fully qualified,” she added quickly. “Mama instructed me in all the intricacies of ton behavior, and in matters of propriety, Papa was even stricter.”

“I’m sure they were, with so precious a prize to guard. Still, I should very much like to pursue your acquaintance. You would find me a willing pupil.”

Much as she tried to tell herself that his outrageous request was just another tool in his rake’s arsenal, she couldn’t shake a sense that, on some level, he was quite serious. Before an unwanted sympathy for his position—and her strong attraction to him—led her to capitulate, she replied, “Tutoring you would not be…wise.”

At her refusal, the hopeful look in his eyes faded. “Then I am doubly sorry. To lose your instruction, and to have begun so badly with you.”

Not knowing what to say, she did not reply. Tavener offered his arm, she took it, and in silence they resumed their circuit of the room.

After a few moments, he sighed. “Though I shall probably have to beg your pardon once again, before I return you to your chaperone, I simply must say this.”

As she tried to arm herself against whatever impertinence he meant to utter, he bent that compelling gaze upon her once more and said, “Miss Antinori, I must tell you how much I admired and respected your father. He was a true genius, and the musical world is much the poorer for his premature passing.”

For a moment, she thought she must have imagined his comments, so thoroughly had it been drummed into her head that she must on no account mention her parents. “You…knew my father?” she asked at last.

“No, but I did have the honor of hearing him play once, when I was at Oxford. Such passion! Such skill! I’m a bit hand of a violist myself, and have attempted to play some of his compositions, which are as beautiful as they are difficult. You must be so proud of him.”

“I am proud of him,” she whispered. A combustible swirl of grief, anger at having been forced to deny her parents, delight and gratitude at encountering someone who admired her father choked her into silence.

After three weeks of circumspect behavior, of confining her conversation to inquiries about the health of persons she knew little and cared less about or innocuous remarks about the weather, Tavener’s introduction of that taboo topic electrified her. Prudent or not, she decided on the spot to encourage his friendship.

Looking up into the blue eyes that once again seemed to sense the turmoil in her soul, she said, “Thank you. It is a great joy to speak of him. And Lord Tavener, though I still think Lady Domcaster’s qualifications for instructing you far exceed my own, I would be happy to help you practice your conversation.”

She was rewarded with a smile of such brilliance, she had no difficulty believing he’d made a long series of conquests. Sternly she reminded herself that, regardless of how great an admirer of her father he might be, she must not join their number.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “You shall not regret it, I promise. Would you like a glass of wine before we begin?”

Agreeing that would be very nice, she let him lead her off to the refreshment room.

They were nearing the exit of the ballroom when Allegra heard ahead of them a familiar tinkling laugh. She gritted her teeth as, through the passing guests, she saw Sapphira Lynton poised on the threshold.

FOR SEVERAL MOMENTS Lady Lynton stood in the doorway acknowledging greetings from acquaintances, framed by the pediment-topped opening like an actress by the proscenium. Though she was properly attired all in black, from the way the silken gown hugged her curves, its bodice cut low over her generous breasts, the dark color emphasizing the porcelain perfection of her skin, she managed to make mourning dress look provocative.