CHAPTER THREE
Hugh shifted his weight onto his right foot, his left one already numb. He was so dashed bored with the proceedings, not to mention the endless felicitations being heaped on him that night.
He knew half of London was here to confirm that Lord Wastrel was truly getting himself leg-shackled. He bit back his discomfort and smiled at another guest who was clearly dying of curiosity, yet too well-bred to actually voice the question everyone had in mind: "Why now?"
Not that he had plans to sate their curiosity anytime soon. Perhaps once Lucinda had reached the age of majority he would be willing to let the ton know of her existence. Until then he would keep her safe from their insatiable need for fresh gossip.
A commotion on the steps leading down into the ballroom caught his attention, but he kept his mind, and his gaze, on the perfect woman by his side.
Miss Penelope Lansdale was biddable, and from a good family. Her voice was soft, her bearing serene, and her demeanor elegant. She was blessedly free of the spectacle accompanying every batch of debutantes that descended upon London each Season.
In short, she was everything he had sought in a wife.
He bit back a yawn. If only she possessed some spirit, even a hint of a backbone.
No, that was not at all fair. He had deliberately excluded any young women exhibiting such qualities. His daughter needed parents who could help her overcome the difficulties of being born on the wrong side of the blanket. She did not need a mother who had a scandalous reputation to rival that of her father.
"What is happening upstairs?" Penelope asked, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil.
"I have no idea. Though I am confident Haselton will set everything to rights."
Penelope glanced up at him, shyly, and he returned a tight smile. He would surely grow to love her. One day. After all, hadn't he been surprised at how deeply he loved his unexpected daughter?
It was worth it to wed a woman he merely admired and respected. There was no need to expect anything more of their union. If only his parents had respected and admired each other. Their lifelong love of scandal had precluded that, however.
His thoughts were interrupted by an imperious throat clearing.
"Lady Thornham." Hugh stifled a grin as he bowed over the dowager's hand. "I am honored you decided to attend my betrothal ball."
"I had to see for myself that another scoundrel has been reformed. First Lord Rakehell and now you." She leaned forward and examined him through her lorgnette. "You are the one they call Lord Wastrel, are you not?"
"Indeed." He gave her an apologetic look. "Though I have been called that, and much worse, before this evening."
The Dowager bristled, trying to decide if he was mocking her, and then she studied Penelope for several moments. She gave a sniff of approval before returning her sharp gaze to him. "Marriage is precisely what you need to curb your wild ways, young man."
"I could not agree more." He lowered his voice. "Though it is a pity you are no longer on the marriage mart."
Her shocked inhalation made his grin widen. Lady Thornham slapped her fan on his forearm and then scuttled off, muttering about his impertinence, although she managed to sneak another glance at him over her shoulder. Hugh chuckled, nearly missing the announcement of Flighty Felicia's arrival.
Before he could wonder who she might try to persuade into an elopement this evening, she was standing in front of him. He had known Felicia, and her family, for years. Yet he still caught his breath at the vision she presented, her bright blue eyes and auburn curls setting off her vivacious manner to perfection, more so than usual.
He was always happy to see her, to hear the latest on dit, especially the ones she laughingly related about herself. She was bound to enliven this evening's duller moments, making it even more memorable for all who attended.
Unfortunately, he realized with a frown, she was the precise opposite of the female he wanted his daughter to emulate. He would do well to keep the two of them apart for as long as possible.
"Felicia." He gave her a quick nod. "I would like you to meet Miss Penelope Lansdale, who has consented to be my wife."
Felicia smiled warmly as she clasped his betrothed's gloved hand. "It is a genuine pleasure to meet you, Miss Lansdale. I must congratulate you—" Her smile seemed to dim momentarily. "Such a happy occasion."
"Thank you," Penelope answered serenely. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, as well as honored to have you in attendance at our celebration."
Felicia turned to Hugh, and he waited for her to extend her congratulations to him. To his surprise, she hesitated before saying, "Hugh, could we speak privately for a moment? It is rather important."
"You can say whatever you wish, Felicia. Miss Lansdale and I have no secrets from each other."
Felicia heaved a big sigh, her eyes wide, and he knew a moment's dread. What was he thinking? She had not earned the nickname "Flighty Felicia" by being circumspect.
He opened his mouth to excuse himself, intent on hustling her away before she could blurt out something outrageous, in front of Penelope, and the avid onlookers—
"Hugh, I need you to marry me."
~ * ~
Felicia held her breath, and noticed Hugh doing the same, his face the picture of complete shock. She had kept her voice low, not wanting anyone but Hugh to hear her beyond-the-pale—but completely necessary—proposition.
Fortunately, just as the words tumbled from her lips, another guest had claimed the bride-to-be's attention. Miss Lansdale chatted pleasantly with the new arrival, unaware of the unusual conversation going on a few steps away.
Felicia sighed her relief. Especially when she saw a slow smile appear on Hugh's handsome face. Soon he would be on bended knee, clasping her hand, his eyes filled with adoration as he said—
"You minx! Did Tony wager you would not be brave enough to utter that proposal? You must thank him for providing a much needed moment of levity." He chuckled. "Never mind, I shall tell that scoundrel myself."
Now it was Felicia who was the picture of complete shock. Why had Hugh not fallen instantly in love with her? Had the curse malfunctioned? If so, it had chosen the worst possible moment to do so.
"There is no wager, Hugh. I can assure you I am quite serious."
"About marrying me?" He laughed with such vigor, her fingers itched to give him a good pinch. "Not even Flighty Felicia would try to elope with a man at his betrothal ball."
Felicia frowned at his patent disbelief, as well as his description of precisely what she was trying to do.
Everything was supposed to fall quickly into place once she had finally found her one true love. Instead, she would have to somehow convince Hugh of her deep and abiding love for him, even if it had appeared out of nowhere, mere moments ago. There was also the difficulty, completely unforeseen, of him being promised to another.
Apparently falling instantly in love was the easy portion of the family curse.
"I can explain—well, at least I can attempt to. You see—"
His eyebrows raised slowly, while his lips continued to twitch with amusement. "Why does this call to mind you trying to enlist me in yet another ill-fated adventure when we were children?"
She grinned at the memory of the escapades they had shared as mischief-making youngsters, something which he clearly remembered with fondness as well.
"Those were merely suggestions of things I knew you were interested in too," she replied. "I cannot be faulted for your willingness to accompany me."
"Hah! I only went along to ensure you did not find yourself in more trouble than you could handle. And to avoid you 'pinching some sense into me', as you liked to say."
"I am astounded at your ability to revise the history of our youth," she said with a grin. "Though you did require more pinching than anyone else of my acquaintance. I suspect you still do."
His delighted laughter made Miss Lansdale shoot a glance their direction. Even though she smiled pleasantly, it was a reminder to Felicia of how untenable this falling-in-love-with-Hugh business was.
"I must return to my hosting duties," Hugh said, and perhaps it was only her imagination that made his voice sound reluctant. "But I must offer my gratitude, once more, for making this event a great deal more pleasurable than it was before your arrival."
He gave her a brief bow and started to return to Miss Lansdale's side. Felicia felt an instant of panic. How could she convince Hugh, before it was too late? She stepped forward, clutching his arm to halt his leavetaking.
She marveled at how firm his muscles were beneath the perfectly fitting black coat. Even more astounding, the simple contact caused her heart to pound forcefully, as if it meant to pierce her skin and land on the marble floor at Hugh's feet.
"Hugh, I—"
"Yes?"
His gaze lingered on her hand, where she continued to touch him. She nearly apologized for the bold gesture, but then he let his dark eyes roam upwards, slowly, as though he were memorizing every intimate detail along the way. It was impossible to tear herself away. Nor could she remember why it was unseemly to touch him with such familiarity.
His lips lifted in an appreciative smile, one that made Felicia shiver, as though she had forgotten her underdress and was clad only in a sheer silk overskirt. Her skin prickled. One moment she was chilled, the next heated beyond bearing.
"Felicia?" he murmured.
She gripped his arm more tightly, though she was not certain if it was to keep herself steady on her feet, or to keep from throwing herself into his embrace. If only he would lower his head closer to hers. She wanted to breathe in whatever irresistible essence it was that enveloped him, even though it thoroughly jumbled her thoughts.
What had she been about to say?
A burst of laughter nearby startled her, reminding Felicia they were not inhabiting their own private world. She reluctantly let her hand slip away, before anyone, particularly Hugh's bride-to-be, noticed anything untoward.
In the next instant, the intimate spell was broken. Hugh shook his head slightly, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. A bemused smile took the place of the seductive one that had completely bewitched her moments before.
Felicia drew a shaky breath. She hoped Great-Aunt had recovered from her fainting episode, since she needed to quiz the woman, at length, about the inner workings of this family curse. Nothing was proceeding as she had been led to believe.
With any luck, her aunt also had some suggestions on how to assuage Felicia's guilt at desiring a man betrothed to someone else. A perfectly lovely young woman she could befriend—if only Miss Lansdale were not betrothed to Felicia's one true love.
"I sincerely wish the best for you, Hugh. And Miss Lansdale." Felicia's heart clenched, but she managed to add with a bright smile, "Please give her my warmest regards."
"Thank you, Felicia. I will."
Hugh lifted her hand to his lips and deposited a brief, almost brotherly, kiss. She could feel the skin start to sizzle beneath her kid glove. Heat blossomed in her chest and rose up her neck. Other startling, yet quite delectable, sensations commenced in her nether regions.
She almost gasped. Were these the stirrings Georgiana had described with such enthusiasm?
If so, Felicia had been doubly cursed.
She tugged her hand from Hugh's and darted towards the open door leading onto the terrace. She did not want to see his puzzled expression, or try to decipher what he might be thinking about her flighty behavior.
She had plenty to puzzle out herself, namely, why had falling instantly in love made everything so difficult?
~ * ~
Hugh watched, mystified, as Felicia headed outdoors, her fashionable silk skirts flying behind her. He had always enjoyed the lively exchanges with Felicia, along with her willingness to speak her mind with him. She never pulled her punches, verbal or otherwise.
He grinned at a long-ago memory, one which had hobbled him for several days.
But this was even more unusual than ever. Insisting he marry her? When his duties in the receiving line were done, he would seek out her brother and ask what the devil Felicia was up to.
"What a dashing young woman," Penelope commented.
Her lips pursed, just slightly, as if she was unwilling to exhibit any more displeasure than that. For some reason, her response rankled.
"She is an old family friend," Hugh said. "I have known her since we were children."
"She seems quite spirited."
He shot a glance at her, hoping to see some kind of emotion. Envy perhaps? There was nothing, however. He had to chide himself once more for wanting Penelope to be anything other than what she was. He had selected her to be his child's mother precisely because she was nothing like Felicia.
Then why was he so bedeviled all of a sudden?
He rubbed at the odd tingling in his lips, which had commenced the moment he'd kissed Felicia's hand. His arm was still heated from the brief instant when she had touched his arm. It had not only planted the most impossible ideas into his head, but made him angry at their impossibility.
Before tonight, he had been pleased at his good fortune in finding just the right woman for his bride. Now dissatisfaction continued to creep in, taking up residence in his brain as he found fault with everything he had once admired about Penelope.
To chase away his doubts, he sneaked a kiss against her ear. Her skin instantly pinkened, and he grinned at her delightful modesty. Yes, that was precisely the sort of woman he needed. Not a hellion like Felicia.
His rebellious body began to throb at the mere thought of Felicia. Or perhaps it was the mention of her being a hellion, and how she might have exhibited her passionate side if they had been the ones to marry. He tossed the ridiculous notion aside, regretfully, along with the guilt accompanying it, and entwined his fingers with Penelope's.
He was nearly swamped with an unexpected feeling of betrayal. Even stranger, it felt as though he was betraying Felicia, not the woman who would soon be his wife.
~ * ~
"It does not appear to be working as it should," Ares said under his breath. He continued to peruse the crowded ballroom, even though the young miss was no longer to be seen. "Perhaps—"
"Everything is proceeding smoothly," Aphrodite replied, but she would admit it was following a slightly different path than she had anticipated.
She smiled warmly at some guests passing by, while Ares gave a warning glare to a gentleman who did not mask his appreciation of Aphrodite's charms. She placed a hand on Ares' forearm, drawing his attention back to her before he decided to challenge the admirer to a duel or some other manly death sport.
"If it is proceeding smoothly, then why is he not in love with her yet?" Ares asked. "I recall Lord Rakehell falling instantly in love, almost the moment he set eyes on Miss Kirkwood."
Aphrodite bit her lip to keep a smile at bay. What could be more endearing than the God of War fretting about her matchmaking efforts amongst the mortals?
"Lady Felicia is clearly besotted with him," Aphrodite said, "which she was not at the outset. So I am quite pleased with the progression of events."
It had been a close call when the young woman's aunt had seemed to recognize Aphrodite. Fortunately she'd been able to make her escape into the crowd of guests before recognition dawned. Aphrodite did not possess the ability to eradicate memories from a mortal's mind, which was unfortunate, since it meant she could only visit every other generation.
She had forgotten what an inconvenience that could be. Especially when there was unfinished business to attend to.
"I merely wonder if you should have utilized the handkerchief, as you did previously." Ares cocked his head while he studied her. "You still have not explained how that worked."
"I cannot use the same means with each couple, dearest. It would diminish the entertainment for us if I did." She gave him a flirtatious smile. "It would also reduce my enjoyment at watching you attempt to discover how my methods actually work."
"So when you spoke only with her, and not with him, that was not a deliberate attempt to prolong our stay?"
"I know how you wish to return home to Mount Olympus." Aphrodite stepped closer, her body brushing against his. "But we have just commenced this adventure. Surely you can give it a bit more time."
"I can do that," he said, though he tried to hide his unhappy tone. He was less successful in hiding his body's reaction to her.
She moved forward, until the only thing separating them was the threat of scandal if a dowager spied them in this fashion. Just as she'd hoped, Ares' pique dissipated. The rest of him remained steadfast.
Since he cared nothing for the ton's concerns about propriety, and was willing to battle those who might challenge him, he looped his arms about Aphrodite's waist. "We should slip out onto the terrace for a short while."
She tilted her head to give him an arch look. "I have told you many times previously. I will not pretend to be part of the statuary. I do not find that at all amusing."
Ares laughed, a husky sound that made her melt inside, as always. "I merely wanted to take a stroll in a more deserted portion of the property. Someplace we could explore."
His emphasis on the last word made Aphrodite shiver, even though the place was overheated from the abundance of guests. No matter what differences they might have, they were perfectly suited when it came to pleasing each other.
"What a delightful suggestion, my love. Afterwards, we can return and see what progress has been made."
"Perfect," Ares said, and she knew he was no longer speaking of the young couple.