How to Beguile a Beauty. Кейси Майклс

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.”

      Tanner took her hands in his. “I shouldn’t have involved you, which I did by not warning Justin away from you and my cousin both.”

      She did her best to ignore the tingle of awareness that had run through her at his touch. “It’s all right. This evening was quite the education. Nicole spent years anticipating her first Season, and then found it petty and insipid, so that she almost immediately sought adventure and excitement elsewhere. I, in my turn, dreaded the day we’d come to London, yet I find myself enjoying the experience for the most part. The museums, the Tower, the theaters, the book repositories, the sheer masses of people and bustle. It’s silly of me, but I didn’t see the meanness anywhere, until tonight.”

      “Justin has decided to leave London for a space, probably until next year’s Season. That will give Society time to become resigned to the idea that he’s back. But now I wonder if that’s wise. He might only be prolonging what is bound to end with some sort of confrontation with somebody. Still, he knows I’ll stand by him.”

      Lydia wondered if she should withdraw her hands, but it was as if Tanner didn’t even realize he was still holding on to them. “I’m sure he does. That might be one reason he’s leaving London. To protect you.”

      Tanner’s fingers tightened on hers briefly. “My God, I never thought of that. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow morning, and will quickly disabuse him of any idea of sacrificing himself to protect me.”

      “As he would disabuse you of any idea of sacrificing yourself to protect him, I would imagine. Do you know something, Tanner? I think men might really be rather silly, at the heart of things.”

      That brought a smile to his face, and another quick flush to her cheeks. “Spoken like a highly intelligent woman. Yes, men are idiots. Idiocy is beaten into us from the nursery cot on. And the more civilized we become, the more rules we make, the more we toss around words like honor and law, the more savage we really are. We merely dress up our baser selves in fine linen. And I’m as guilty of that as any of us.”

      It wasn’t the most romantic of conversations. It certainly wasn’t a usual conversation between a man and woman. But what it was, Lydia realized, was a conversation between equals, between friends. With no artifice, no polite skirting of unpleasant subjects, no thought to impressing each other.

      “I disagree. If anything, Tanner, I believe you may be too good. Too honorable.”

      The moment she’d said the words, Lydia was appalled at her forthrightness. She withdrew her hands, faced forward on the bench, and folded those hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

      She felt his hand at the small of her back, and closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, which had seemingly decided to stop occurring on its own and needed her full concentration.

      “We’re not speaking of men as a whole or my involvement with Justin now, are we? It’s Fitz, back again, front and center.”

      “No, I…yes, I suppose so. You’ve more than satisfied any favor he asked from you where I am concerned.”

      “Are you telling me to go away, Lydia? Take myself off?”

      She turned to him in surprise. “No! I…I don’t wish to be an obligation, Tanner. That’s all.”

      He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, pulling back only slightly as he said, “You’ve never been an obligation to me, Lydia. Never.”

      She wanted to avoid his eyes, his closeness, but it was no good. She couldn’t look away. He’d kissed her! Had it been a brotherly sort of kiss? The kiss one might deliver to a friend? What if she had known he was going to do what he did? Would she have turned her head so that he could kiss her on the mouth? What would he have done then? What was she thinking!

      But she only said, “I was horrible to you that day, and for a long time after that. I did my best to avoid you.”

      “Really?” He smiled. “I didn’t notice.”

      “Oh.” She twisted her hands in her lap, a part of her longing only to raise her hand, touch her fingers to his cheek. “Everyone else did.”

      “Everyone else should mind their own business,” Tanner said softly, moving closer to her, his mouth suddenly the center of her attention. His full, smiling mouth…

      “Malvern! Ran you to ground at last!”

      Lydia nearly jumped at the sudden shout, and instantly Tanner was gone, standing beside the bench, his body placed protectively in front of hers.

      “Molton,” he said dully. “Brittingham—Featherstone. I wasn’t aware either of you were out of short pants eight years ago, let alone a friend of Farber’s. And you’re drunk, all of you.”

      “So?” the man named Molton