Reckless - By Anne Stuart Page 0,4
well, too strong-minded, too unwilling to flatter the preening males. Observing a few nights of the Revels of the Heavenly Host should be enough to scare her away from ever contemplating changing her stance on love and marriage.
It was a shame, because Charlotte would make a wonderful, loving mother. But motherhood came with husbands, and price was too dear.
"Voila, enfin!" Louise cried, stepping back, clearly well satisfied with what she had wrought Lina stared at her reflection. She was exquisite. A work of art. A creation cold and lifeless and beautiful. Good enough to lure the dissolute Viscount Rohan into her bed, further ensuring the necessary demise of Charlotte's hopeless daydreams.
"Eh bien," she said tonelessly. And she rose from her dressing table, ready to finish the job.
Charlotte only considered the green sarcenet for a moment before dismissing it in favor of the insipid peach that turned her ivory complexion to ash. She ignored Meggie's objections, waiting until the last minute to head down to the ballroom. Lina would be more than capable of sending her back to change, if it weren't already too late. The first guests had already begun to arrive, and Lina looked resplendent in clinging pink silk that molded her delicate curves. She gave Charlotte a look, then shrugged, as if her poor sartorial choice was no more than she'd expected, and Charlotte took up her place behind her. Had it been up to Lina she would have been by her side, greeting the guests as an equal, but Charlotte staunchly refused. There were few advantages to being a poor relation, but this was one of them. She didn't have to stand in line and smile and simper at idiotic young men and elderly villains. This was going to be one of the major crushes of the season— Lina had invited everyone, and Charlotte held her place as long as she could. It was only when she could see the black-and-silver mane of Etienne de Giverney overtopping everyone else's as he moved toward them that she panicked. Where the dashing Comte de Giverney went, his younger cousin, Viscount Rohan, was likely to follow, and she wasn't going to take that chance.
She slipped away without a word to blend into the mass of guests, making her way toward the back of the ballroom. The only safe way to escape to her bedroom would be to take the servants' stairs.
The main staircase stood just outside the ballroom, and she would be in full view of the arriving and departing guests if she tried to disappear by that route. Not that anyone would notice the movements of a poor relation, but she didn't want to take the chance.
At least she was fortunate enough to have escaped before she had to endure Viscount Rohan's lazy glance, if she even got that much from him. The less she saw of (hat particular gentleman the better off she was. Adrian Rohan was fully as wild as his father had been, and while most women loved rakes, she did not. She threaded her way through the crowds, invisible as a woman of no wealth, beauty or youth could be, the door to the back stairs almost in sight, when a tall male figure suddenly loomed up in front of her, and she barreled into him, too intent on escape to stop herself in time.
Strong hands caught her arms to steady her, and she found herself looking up into Adrian Alistair de Giverney Rohan's beautiful, exquisite face. He was one of the few men tall enough to make her actually have to crane her neck, and she was too startled to watch her tongue.
Luck was most definitely not on her side. For the first time in her life Meggie's coaching paid off and Charlotte uttered the fateful words Bloody hell.
His lordship had already released her, had murmured a polite apology beneath his breath in instant dismissal and was about to move on, her existence barely acknowledged, when her low-voiced but clearly enunciated words stopped him, and his hard blue eyes focused on her for what she was certain was the first time, despite the fact that they'd been introduced at least half a dozen times during the season and danced on one notable, horrible occasion.
He blinked. And then a slow smile curved his mouth, and it was truly the most wicked, deceitful, appealing mouth, and his gloved hand reached out again to catch her elbow before she could escape.
It was just the lightest of touches,