.
When Lord Wint brought Rachel a second glass of champagne, she’d not refused it, even though she’d not eaten for hours. “Thank you.” Already she’d danced with three gentlemen who’d asked. One had been a future viscount, while the other was the second son of a duke. Both men she’d refused in the past, and now she watched as they spoke to their friends. Words was getting around that the wallflower had finally left her chair for the dance floor.
She noticed when Lord Stephen Dew glanced over from across the room, and smiled. If he asked, she’d dance with him. He was already engaged, which made him safe.
“Have you ever seen two people more in love?” Harley asked, as he watched the dancers stroll to the center of the room to take their positions. She knew where his eyes were: on Rose and Gerard. Alexandra was also somewhere with her husband. The three would reconvene tomorrow, to discuss who from Wint’s party would also receive an invitation to Reuben’s.
Rachel looked up at Lord Wint. When Harley had first arrived in London, his skin had been tanned so deeply from his travels, that many had thought him forever stained by the sun, but over the last few months, his skin had paled, but still he retained most of his bronze glow. Like his cousin Alexandra, he had the Upton black hair, but his eyes were blue, nearly violet, and always hit a person like a mighty punch, whenever he managed to catch their gaze.
That gaze was on Rose.
“Do you still—”
“No.” Harley held out his hand and then looked at her. “Let us dance.”
She jumped at the chance, and was on the floor right before another gentleman approached. Harley had become one of her friends, and thus, she went into his arms whenever he asked. As they turned, she kept glancing at the door.
“Looking for someone?” Harley asked.
She turned to him and blushed. “If I were, it would be hard to find them in this crowd. It is almost as though the entirety of London is here.”
Wint nodded and glanced around. “There are at least two hundred. I’ll never know all their names.”
“And you’ll never be comfortable around them if you avoid them,” she added.
He turned his eyes to her and grinned. “You’re right. I’m simply not used to this way of life.” Yet he moved her around the floor like a lord born to his station. “The city is quite dreary. I was raised to be the Wint’s heir, and only found out about my uncle’s death months after. I would have stayed in the country if Alexandra and Rose hadn’t urged me to come to the Season to ‘wife hunt’.” He frowned and shook his head, before turning away. “Not a single lady in this crowd attracts me.”
Rachel took only very little offense at his words, and concentrated on the steps in the dance.
As if realizing what he’d said, he quickly turned back to her with apologizes in his eyes. “Except for you of course, Lady Rachel.” He spun her.
She laughed for the first time that night. She adored Harley. “I’m sure some lady will eventually catch your fancy.” She went back into his arms.
Harley looked away in doubt, and then his brows rose. “Oh, Reuben is here.”
“Where?” Rachel nearly broke her neck trying to find him.
Harley laughed. “I knew it. I can always tell when a woman has affection for another.” He tsked. “What a horrible talent to possess. If only I’d been blessed with another gift.”
After searching the crowd again, and finding no one, she turned back to Harley and narrowed her eyes. She ignored his comment. “He’s not here, is he?”
Wint shrugged. “Oh, no, he’s here. I did see him, but I only told you after I saw him slip from the ballroom.” He smiled at her wickedly. “He didn’t look pleased.”
“Really?” She hoped Reuben’s ire was linked to her dancing with Wint, but then doubt filled her. “Maybe it’s something else.”
“Only one way to find out.” When the dance ended, he escorted her toward the door.
Had he also enlisted his help in seeing that she and Reuben ended up together? She really did have the most wonderful friends. At the door’s edge, he bid her farewell and she slipped into the gallery where men and women stared at the paintings that lined either wall.
Her elbow was touched, and she turned to find Reuben at her side.
“Enjoying the party?” he asked.
She took a moment to look him over. He was dressed in dark blue with a beautiful brown waistcoat. Golden buttons lined his jacket. A pearl white shirt and cravat finished the look. With his hair swept back and face clean shaven he was beautiful and looked every bit a lord.
“How long have you been here?” She was surprised her heart remained calm. Perhaps she was getting used to his presence again.
“Not long.” No answer had ever been so vague. He glanced down the hall. “Care to take a stroll?”
She accepted his arm and started down the gallery at a slow pace, glad he wasn’t trying to flee. They walked past a few groups, and other pairs who took in the artwork in the hall.
His eyes remained away, however, as he looked over the art that lined the wall. “His house makes me realize just how very empty mine is.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “We’ll have to fix that before the party.”
“I thought as much.” He didn’t sound excited about it.
“You don’t have any furniture?” she asked.
He looked at her and shook his head. “It wasn’t in my budget last year.”
She frowned. “Lords shouldn’t speak freely about their money.” Then she leaned closer. “Or at least, not here.”
“My apologies.” He stopped, straightened, and dropped his hold on her. “I didn’t mean to offend—”
She touched his arm and moved in closer to him. “No, you do not offend me, Reuben. Never. I simply wish to help you find your place amongst the aristocracy.” She started them down the hall again.
“You mean you wish me to conform.” His lips thinned.
“Never.” She tightened her hold on him. “I would never want that for you. It would ruin just how very wonderful you are.” She closed her mouth, knowing she’d said too much. Her blood was racing once again. She was finally alone— well, kind of alone— with Reuben, once more. She had his attention, and if she could stand in this moment forever, she would.
His face softened, and he shook his head. “I admit that I’m lost when it comes these things. You’d have thought that after living with your father for so many years, that I’d have learned a thing or two.”
She smiled. “Perhaps it is my fault. I tended to distract you from your duties.” At every chance she got. Those memories came easy. While Reuben might have been asked do one thing or another, in Rachel’s eyes he’d always belonged to her, and eventually, his duties had been changed to such things as attending her when she went shopping, and carrying her packages, while scaring pickpockets away. “Had I left you alone, you may have learned more gentlemanly things.”
He returned her smile fully, charming her without meaning to. “Taking care of you was never a hardship...”
She stilled and held her breath.
“... Little Rach—”
She placed her hand over his mouth and glared. “Never call me that again.” She retracted her gloved hand as she retained eye contact. “I am not little anymore.”
“You’re smaller than me.” He shifted and blocked her view of the rest of the hall and it’s guests. Somehow, they’d made it to the end where there were more shadows, making it hard for anyone to see them. His wide shoulders and unyielding stature gave his words added affect. She was smaller than him, but so were many others.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what you meant.”
His earlier charm had collapsed under severity. “You’re ten years my junior, so I think the ‘little’ still applies.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m a woman now. You will treat me as one.” Throwing her shoulders back, she lifted a brow in challenge, even though anxiety set in. She had no clue where she found the strength to stand up to this man, but somehow, she did.
His gaze roamed her, as though looking for verification of her words. Never before had a look touched her so thoroughly. He might as well have used his hand. Then his eyes settled on hers again and met her challenge. “Or what?”
She should have known he would. This man had seen war. Surely, he wouldn’t shake in his boots at the sight of a woman’s scorn.
She swallowed and made her words as crisp as possible. “Or I’ll have to prove it to you.”
He started to lean away but stopped as if catching himself. His eyes roamed her face. She’d startled him. Surprised him once again.
Good. Her confidence grew.
“How would you go about proving it?” he asked in a low timbre that sent her newfound confidence into hiding. He was no longer leaning away. Instead, he seemed closer.
Rachel wanted to look away from the green eyes that seemed to be pulling her in, but couldn’t. “I would… I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She closed her mouth once she felt the tremble in her lips.
He touched her cheek gently, his white kid glove soft against her skin. “Surely, you could think of some way to prove it.”
She became like a statue, and for a moment wondered if Reuben was taunting a kiss from her. She wouldn’t allow herself to believe such a thing, and yet there they were. His back was visible to anyone who dared look at their corner of the hall, but she was sure that any view of her was swallowed by the mass of his form.
Did she dare kiss him? Prove to him how much of a woman she’d become? Press her curves against his form to give him the purest of evidence she could find?
Her eyes went to his mouth. His lips beckoned her forward.
His hand moved to the back of her neck.
“Lady Rachel!”
Reuben retracted his hand and moved away.
Rachel’s eyes widened, and she fell into a curtsey. “Lord Castell!” She rose and smiled up at him. “Lord Castell.” She’d met the Duke of Yall’s son on more than one occasion, but like many lords who tried to avoid the marriage market, he stayed away from society functions.
Her cheeks warmed at being caught, even though she and Reuben hadn’t done anything. She prayed Castell said nothing about it.
The prince grinned. He was thin, but tall, and when he smiled, he could be quite dashing. He looked like his mother with dark blond hair and brown eyes. “I was looking for you. I heard you were dancing tonight. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity.”
“Oh.” She glanced over at Reuben, and couldn’t help but notice how the prince said nothing to him, not even taking the effort to glance his way at all.
Lord Castell wasn’t a member of the Blue Blood Coalition, but his father was, which put him in a way, at odds with the man her feelings grew stronger for every day.
She opened her mouth to refuse one of the most powerful men in London, but then recalled what her father had said. She could refuse no dance.
She glanced over at Reuben, hoping he’d stop this, but Reuben had stopped looking at her, at Frederick’s approach.
He bowed toward her and said, “Good evening, my lady.” He hesitated and bowed to Frederick. “My lord.” Then he departed.
Rachel’s heart broke, as she watched him stroll down the long hall, and then disappear.
Frederick took her hand. “Come. The waltz is about to begin.” He took her without her response. Did anyone ever tell the man no?
Apparently, it would not be her.
But she kept her silence as they moved across the room, even while she kept her expression neutral.
Frederick narrowed his eyes, though there was laughter in their depths. “Lady Rachel, surely you’re not upset that I’ve spoken you away from that striver.”
She stiffened her back and dropped all pleasantries. “Striver? I believe he earned his title fairly.”
Frederick continued to smile, though the laughter had left his features. “My lady, are you defending him?”
She nearly missed her footing and she knew she had to watch whatever she said next. This man, this prince, could destroy her. “His sisters are my friends, Lady Rose and Lady Alicia. It would not do, if I did otherwise.”
The prince rolled his eyes. “The most unconventional ladies…”
“Yet they are married to earls, and Gerard will one day be the Duke of Avon.” The wealthiest duke in London, if not the most powerful, by influence, alone. “Lady Alexandria will be the Duchess of Avon.”
Color seemed to appear at Frederick’s throat as he looked away. “So, it would seem, and while they’d have never been what I would consider a candidate for marriage, it would seem that love has won against all odds.” He looked at her again. “And I’m sure you being a benevolent lady, are doing everything you can, to help them adjust to the strains of our way of life.”
The strains of their way of life? If he meant meaningless etiquette, than he knew nothing about true strains, ones the Smith family had already survived and conquered, like fatherlessness and poverty.
It was no wonder no lady appealed to Lord Wint, and likely a reason he was so very fond of Rose. Rose had survived something. What had she ever survived? Attacks of anxiety that came from nothing? She knew it was Reuben’s bravery and kindness that attracted her. The way he was climbing to stand on top of the world, yet remained so humble.
Unlike Frederick.
“I hear your father is inclined to help Lord Eastridge as well,” Frederick went on. “I would have to advise he think wisely, about what side of matters he wishes to be on.”
Rachel pulled in a breath. She knew a threat when she heard one. Her father was only a viscount. This man could make life hard for them.
He looked at her again, and his gaze softened. “Oh, I’m sorry. Have I upset you? That was not my intention at all.”
She stared up at him, and had to admit his eyes seemed genuine. Frederick could be quite confusing at times. “I’m all right,” she said, as they made the final turn and the song came to an end. She smiled at him, but her words were cut off by Lord Stephen Dew.
“Could I have the next dance?” the lord asked, hopefully.
Rachel sighed in relief. It was an easy way to excuse herself from Frederick. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord.” She took Stephen’s arm.
Frederick bowed, and gave her a very disturbing parting look, before he vanished into the crowd.