Disgrace and Desire. Sarah Mallory

realised it was the front of a gentleman’s fine woollen evening coat. She thought that he must be very big, for she had always considered herself to be tall and yet her eyes were only level with the broad shoulder to which this particular coat was moulded. Her eyes travelled across to the snow-white neckcloth, tied in exquisite folds, and moved up until they reached the strong chin and mobile mouth. For a long time she felt herself unable to look beyond those finely sculpted lips with the faint laughter lines etched at each side. It was quite the most beautiful mouth she had ever seen. A feeling she had never before experienced thrummed through her. With a shock she realised what it was. Desire.

      Summoning all her resources, she moved her glance upwards to meet a pair of deep brown eyes set beneath straight black brows. Almost immediately she saw a gleam of amusement creep into those dark eyes.

      ‘I beg your pardon, madam.’

      He spoke slowly but did not drawl, his voice deep and rich and it wrapped around Eloise like a warm cloak, sending a tiny frisson of excitement running down her spine. Really, she must pull herself together!

      ‘Pray think nothing of it, sir…’

      ‘But I must, Lady Allyngham.’

      She had been enjoying the sound of his voice, running over her like honey, but at the use of her name she gave a little start.

      ‘You know who I am?’

      He gave her a slow smile. Eloise wondered if she had taken too much wine, for all at once she felt a little dizzy.

      ‘You were described to me as the most beautiful woman in the room.’

      She had thought herself immune to flattery, but she was inordinately pleased by his words. She did not know whether to be glad or sorry when she felt Alex’s hand under her elbow.

      ‘Shall we get on, my lady?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes still fixed upon the smiling stranger. ‘Yes, I suppose we must.’

      Really, she felt quite light-headed. Just how many glasses of wine had she taken?

      The stranger was standing aside. The candlelight gleamed on his black hair and one glossy raven’s lock fell forwards as he bowed to her. Eloise quelled an impulse to reach out and smooth it back from his temple.

      Alex firmly propelled her through the doorway and across the hall to the supper room.

      ‘Who is he?’ she hissed, glancing back over her shoulder. The stranger was still watching her, a dark, unfathomable look in his eyes.

      ‘I have no idea,’ said Alex, guiding her to a table. ‘But you should be careful, Elle. I saw the way he looked at you. It was pure, predatory lust.’

      She sighed. ‘That is true of so many men.’

      ‘Which is why I am here,’ replied Alex. ‘To protect you.’

      She reached for his hand.

      ‘Dear Alex. Do you never tire of looking after me?’

      ‘It is what Tony would have wished,’ he said simply, adding with a rueful grin, ‘besides, if you had not dragged me to London, I should be alone in Norfolk, pining away.’

      ‘And that would never do.’ She smiled and squeezed his hand. ‘Thank you, my friend.’

      

      When supper was over, Eloise sent Alex away.

      ‘Try if you can to discover if Lord Berrow plans to attend,’ she begged him. ‘If he does not, then we need not stay much beyond midnight. Although I think you must do the pretty and dance with some of the other ladies in the room.’

      ‘I must?’

      His pained look drew a laugh from her.

      ‘Yes, you must, Alex. You cannot sit in my pocket all night. Several of the young ladies are already looking daggers at me for keeping you by my side for half the evening. You need not be anxious about me; I have seen several acquaintances I wish to talk to.’

      When he had gone, Eloise moved around the room, bestowing her smiles freely but never stopping, nor would she promise to dance with any of the gentlemen who begged for that honour. Her eyes constantly ranged over the room, but it was not an acquaintance she was seeking. It was a dark-haired stranger she had seen but once.

      Suddenly he was beside her.

      ‘Will you dance, my lady?’

      She hesitated.

      ‘Sir, we have not been introduced.’

      ‘Does that matter?’

      A little bubble of laughter welled up. All at once she felt quite reckless. She held out her hand.

      ‘No, it does not matter one jot.’

      He led her to join the set that was forming.

      ‘I thought you would never escape your guard dog.’

      ‘Mr Mortimer is my very good friend. He defends me from unwelcome attentions.’

      ‘Oh? Am I to understand, then, that my attentions are not unwelcome?’

      Eloise hesitated. This encounter was moving a little too fast and for once she was not in control. She said cautiously, ‘I think you would be presumptuous to infer so much.’

      His smile grew and he leaned a little closer.

      ‘Yet you refused to stand up with the last four gentlemen who solicited your hand.’

      ‘Ah, but I have danced with them all before. I like the novelty of a new partner.’ She smiled as the dance parted them, pleased to see the gleam of interest in his eyes.

      ‘And does my dancing please you, my lady?’ he asked as soon as they joined hands again.

      ‘For the moment,’ she responded airily.

      ‘I agree,’ he said, his eyes glinting. ‘I can think of much more pleasant things to do for the remainder of the evening.’

      She blushed hotly and was relieved that they parted again and she was not obliged to answer.

      Eloise began to wonder if she had been wise to dance with this stranger: she was disturbed by his effect upon her. Goodness, he had only to smile and she found herself behaving like a giddy schoolgirl! She must end this now, before the intoxication became too great. When the music drew to a close she gave a little curtsy and stepped away. Her partner followed.

      ‘I know I have not been in town for a while,’ he said, ‘but it is still customary to stand up for two dances, I believe.’

      She put up her chin.

      ‘I will not pander to your vanity, sir. One dance is sufficient for you, until we have been introduced.’

      She flicked open her fan and with a little smile she walked away from him.

      Alex was waiting for her.

      ‘Our host tells me Lord Berrow has sent his apologies for tonight. He is gone out of town. However, Parham expects to see him at the Renwicks’ soirée tomorrow.’

      ‘How very tiresome,’ said Eloise. ‘If we had known we need not have come.’ She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘Let us go now.’

      ‘Are you sure? You will disappoint any number of gentlemen if you leave now: they all hope to stand up with you at least once.’

      Eloise shrugged. If she could not dance with her dark stranger she did not want to dance with anyone.

      ‘There will be other nights.’

      She concentrated on disposing her diaphanous stole across her shoulders rather than meet Alex’s intent gaze.

      ‘What has occurred, Elle? I mislike that glitter in your eyes. Did your last partner say anything to upset you?’

      She