Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,56
and lifted, floating away on the lovely notes. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed going to parties. Their penury and Mama’s illness had required her to remain at home, though she had done so as much out of love as necessity.
But tonight she could revel in the festivities, and oh, she might dance again. The hours ahead stretched out like a sparkling strand of diamonds. With the toe of her slipper, she tapped out a rhythm on the polished parquet floor.
She noticed Drake scanning the assemblage again. His gaze moved in a slow, systematic survey; then he watched the door for new arrivals. His vigilant manner piqued her curiosity. For a man who had plotted so nefariously to raise his social consequence, he didn’t seem inclined to mingle with the nobility.
“Are you looking for someone?” she asked.
“Anyone in skirts.” On that outrageous remark, he lifted two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing footman and handed one to her. “However, you’ll be pleased to hear you are the belle of the ball.”
It was the second time tonight he’d flattered her, and just as with the first, an insidious softening swept her body. “Save your charm for someone more gullible,” she said, taking a sip from her glass. The sparkling wine slid down her throat in a burst of tiny bubbles, and she released an involuntary sigh of pleasure. “Mmm.”
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Since you’ve drunk champagne. Or accepted a compliment from a man.”
She had the dizzying sense that he could see straight into her soul. She took another reckless swallow. “Swaggerer. You know nothing about me.”
“Sweetheart. I’m ready whenever you’d like to change that.”
His carnal suggestion should have shocked Alicia. But she felt a guilty pleasure that he found her desirable. She was aware of his fingertips tracing down her spine, brushing the curve of her bottom. He made the movement seem casual, yet his touch ignited a rush of sparks beneath her lace-trimmed undergarments. The smoldering intensity of his eyes held her enthralled.
It was useless trying to fathom why her mind failed to dictate to her body. Useless to wonder why she felt no inclination to seek out other company. For some mysterious reason, she had even enjoyed trading insults with him tonight. It had become a game with them, this matching of wits.
“You two have been hiding for quite long enough.”
Sarah’s quiet scolding broke the spell. Alicia spun around to see the duchess regarding them. The too-quick motion of her fan, fashioned of green silk with ivory spindles, betrayed her irritation.
“We haven’t strayed from the ballroom,” Alicia protested.
“What Her Grace means,” Drake murmured, a glint in his eyes, “is that we seemed unaware of anyone else present.”
A blush tingled up Alicia’s throat and into her cheeks. “I am well aware of our surroundings. The music is starting for the first set.”
“Just so,” Sarah said. “Hurry along, now. You must dance and mingle and be seen by everyone.”
In the middle of the room, lines were forming, one for the men, the other for the ladies. Alicia slipped into position opposite Drake just as the lilting tune commenced. She lifted her gloved hand to his, and as their fingers touched, she wondered wildly if he even knew how to dance. He hadn’t, after all, had a gentleman’s upbringing.
But her fears proved ungrounded; he performed the intricate steps with flawless grace. All the while he watched her. The light from the chandeliers cast a sheen on his coal-black hair and made shadows beneath his cheekbones. He looked as arrogant as any nobleman present. And she realized with jolt how easily he fit into this glittering world.
The lines shifted, forcing them apart, and she found herself partnered with a portly man with side-whiskers. Drake squired a young miss in virginal white, who simpered when he smiled at her. Alicia forced her gaze away. Let him enchant every woman he met. She certainly didn’t care.
She concentrated on the dance, on being pleasant and giving no one cause to gossip. And she reveled in the joy of gliding to the music, letting the notes guide her feet as if on air. She spied Gerald dancing in another line, and couldn’t help smiling when he winked at her.
All the while, she was keenly aware of her husband as they moved farther apart down the long lines. When at last the steps brought them back together, the tune ended, and Sarah appeared with a