talk to her, dance with her. He wanted her back in his arms.
“Did you hear me, Dunraven?”
“Yes,” he said, but wasn’t sure he had. “I was just thinking that if I ever get my hands around the neck of Lord Truefitt, I’ll happily strangle him until he begs for mercy and swears he’ll never pick up another quill to put in ink!”
“All you and Andrew wanted to do was talk about some penniless girl from the country. What was her name—Miss Blondel?”
Chandler took umbrage at Fines for speaking of her in such an ill manner. “Miss Blair. And where did you hear that she was a penniless girl from the country?”
“I believe Andrew said as much last night when he alluded to the fact she was in Town only for the Season and hoping to make a comfortable match.”
“He doesn’t know as much about her as I do,” Chandler said contentiously. “You can tell by her clothing, her manner of speech, and the way she carries herself,” the way she feels in my arms, the sweetness of her kisses, “that she was not raised penniless.”
“It could be that her family splurged on clothes just for the Season. She is lovely. No reason to think she won’t do well for herself.”
Finding no place to discard the wadded clipping and feeling quite provoked by now, Chandler threw the small paper ball out the open window. He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with Miss Blair. She wasn’t the most beautiful young lady he’d ever seen, but she was the most intriguing, the most enchanting, and the most desirable.
Chandler didn’t care a damn about Lady Lambsbeth. He didn’t want to see her or talk to her and he certainly didn’t want his name linked to hers in the papers. There was only one lady on his mind. Miss Millicent Blair.
Just thinking of her calmed him. Her kisses had been untutored but responsive. She had been submissive in his arms, not because he demanded it, but because she welcomed his embrace. There was no better aphrodisiac than knowing this lady wanted his touch.
He had tempted many young ladies of the ton into kisses as passionate as those he had shared with Miss Blair in that shop, but none had touched the depths of his soul as she did. He felt restless and his desire to hold and kiss her again was intense.
“Damnation,” he muttered more to himself than to Fines.
“Obviously we didn’t get you out of the party soon enough. The only thing a gossipmonger needs to know is that you were seen attending the same party as Lady Lambsbeth and the scandal broth is heated to boiling. They don’t care that you didn’t actually see or speak to the lady in question. It doesn’t matter a whit in hell to them if it sells papers.”
Chandler didn’t comment, so Fines continued. “I found out today that Lady Lambsbeth moved back to London and has rented a town house—not far from yours, by the way. I have it on good authority that her husband is, indeed, dead this time. Some sort of carriage accident in Paris.”
“I don’t care if she’s widow or princess, or if she lives right next door to me. I have no desire or intention of renewing a relationship with her. And after our conversation last night, I don’t think Lady Lambsbeth will be seeking my attentions.”
“You didn’t,” Fines exclaimed and stepped closer to Chandler. “Good Lord, Dunraven, are the scandal sheets right? You did talk to her last night, didn’t you?”
“Only long enough to assure her I had no interest in her,” he admitted, wondering why he hadn’t completely ignored her and walked away without speaking to her.
“All you need is a second for someone to see her in your company.”
“I could have sworn that no one saw us but the Runner, who works for a Thief Taker named Doulton.”
“A Runner? Good lord, Dunraven. Did you take leave of your senses? It only takes one person to catch you with her, or God forbid—do you think he could have overheard what you said? Either way, no doubt the Runner made a tidy sum last night tattling on you.” Fines paused, then asked, “What exactly did you say to her?”
Chandler’s gaze strayed to the door again, looking for Miss Blair. “Exactly what I told you, not that any of it is your concern or the ton’s business. I don’t intend to pick up where we left off, and she should find