Read Online Between the Devil and Ian Eversea by Julie Anne Long - Free Book Online Page B

yet blinked. Bemusement had evolved into something like wonder. His tone had gone a bit drifty.
    “Oh, I’m the one who’s fascinated! To be among such esteemed company. You are the very first viscount I have ever met.” She cast those eyelashes down again.
    Landsdowne smiled at this, obviously disarmed.
    “And I’m the very first baron you’ve ever met!” the formerly silent Simon declared, elbowing into the conversation.
    She turned, happily. “Oh, are you a baron, Simon? How very delightful.”
    “Not yet, he isn’t,” Miss Charing said somewhat churlishly, which made Ian eye the level of the ratafia cup she held. “His father has to die first.”
    “Do you attend many balls and parties in America, Miss Danforth?” Landsdowne asked smoothly.
    “Not so many lately. I fear I’ve been a bit of a wallflower.” Those fluffy dark lashes went down again.
    To his credit, Landsdowne looked somewhat skeptical. “Well, we certainly must remedy that, mustn’t we? I assume a round of gaiety is planned in order to introduce Miss Danforth to Sussex society? This party is only a beginning, Miss Danforth.”
    “Miss Danforth has been taken under the Duke of Falconbridge’s wing,” Olivia explained, and Landsdowne hiked an impressed brow.
    “I’ve not yet danced a reel this evening. I wonder if I remember how! I should be so embarrassed to try it in front of all of these people after such a long time.”
    “I’m a patient teacher, I’m told, if you’ll allow me,” Landsdowne said. “Will you?”
    “Oh . . .” Miss Dansforth cast her eyes down, then up again. “I don’t know if I dare subject you to the caprices of my dancing.”
    There was an odd little silence, as if everyone thought Olivia’s blessing needed to be bestowed.
    “Please do dance with him, Miss Danforth,” Olivia urged finally, graciously. “He dances beautifully and we oughtn’t deprive the assembly of the pleasure of watching him.”
    This, though ironic, was positively gushy for Olivia, and Ian knew it.
    Landsdowne looked wry. “Then of course I shall dance for Your Majesty’s entertainment,” he said with mock gravity, and bowed low, very low, one leg extended, to Olivia, who nodded regally, accepting the fealty as her due.
    S IMON AND M ISS Charing wandered off to the garden, where a kiss or two might be stolen, or Miss Charing might vomit. It could easily go either way, Ian thought.
    “You ought to be dancing,” Olivia said to him.
    “I like sitting with you.” Which was true enough. He was less fond of reels than of waltzes, and he recognized that it was more or less his duty as a single man to dance, but he’d decided that Olivia needed the company.
    Olivia snorted.
    They were watching Miss Danforth and Landsdowne dance the reel. For an alleged novice, she certainly learned the steps very quickly. She was light on her feet and danced with every evidence of joy.
    “He looks almost . . . playful.” She said the word as if it were foreign and she was uncertain of its pronunciation.
    Ian laughed. “Is he normally a somber chap? He seems it. Though a good one,” he added hurriedly. “I like him a good deal.”
    “No, he has wit. The quiet, dry sort, however. I quite like it. He is a good one,” she said absently. “I like him.”
    There was a pause.
    “You like him. How torrid.”
    She shot him a wry sideways glance. But didn’t expound.
    His sister was passionate about nearly everything. The abolishment of slavery. The protection of the poor. The preservation of cherished historical landmarks. The color of clothing. Her tastes in nearly everything were very specific and impassioned and cleverly, usually wittily, reasoned, which was part of her charm. She was challenging and often exhausting, but never dull.
    She was very guarded about Landsdowne.
    And he had never once heard her utter Lyon Redmond’s name since he’d vanished. He had often thought there would always be only one man for Olivia. And that one man