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Authors: M.J. Putney
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tempted!
CHAPTER 7
Tory tapped her foot to the music, thinking wistfully that this wasn’t what she’d imagined for her first ball back in the days when she’d thought herself normal. She’d dreamed of being presented to the beau monde in London. Her debut would have been held in the splendid ballroom of Fairmount House with her parents standing beside her.
Her ballgown would be both innocent and dazzling. The handsomest, most eligible young men in Britain would beg for dances. One or two would probably be inspired to offer marriage by the end of their dance, though Tory would cast her eyes down demurely and say something like, “Sir, you honor me, but this is so sudden!”
Unless that first dance was with Allarde. She might have been ready to accept him at the end of a single dance. She smiled to herself at the thought.
This Christmas country house ball in honor of Sarah and Roger did not match her dreams. There was less formality and half the people present were trying to ignore her existence without actually giving her the cut direct.
She didn’t have a dazzling new gown, either. With private defiance, she wore the pretty sprigged muslin with sapphire blue ribbons she had worn only once, on the fateful day that had sent her into exile. She’d thought the garment ruined, but Molly had fixed it up as good as new. The gown was very becoming, so why not wear it tonight?
Tory sat out the first two dances since her brother and Lord Roger were obliged to dance with Cecilia and Sarah and no one else asked. But Lord Roger partnered her for the third dance. He was an excellent dancer and he made her laugh.
Her brother appeared to claim her for the fourth dance. Large and blond, Geoffrey looked quite a bit like Sarah and not at all like Tory, but he’d always been an excellent brother. “May I have this dance, Lady Victoria?” he asked with a formal bow.
She curtsied in return. “It will be my pleasure, Lord Smithson.”
Formality ended as he led her to where a country dance was forming. “You’ve been holding up very well, Tory,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t blame you if you clawed some of these vicious tabbies.”
“It’s been a near thing,” she admitted. “But I didn’t want to embarrass my family any more than I already have.”
“I will never be ashamed of you.” The longways dance called for a line of men to face a line of women. As they took their positions, Geoffrey glanced at the door. “I’m expecting a few more guests. Ones you should enjoy.”
The music began and Tory concentrated on the dancing. Geoffrey had often been her partner when she was learning, so they danced well together. As they moved down the lines of dancers, she was pleased to see that the men didn’t shrink from taking her hand and whirling her around. They didn’t seem to think she was contagious.
The atmosphere eased enough that she was asked for the next dance by a male who wasn’t related to her. Her partner was a shy young fellow from the neighborhood, and not a very good dancer, but his gaze was admiring.
The dance was just ending when the door opened and Geoffrey’s late guests arrived. First was a tall, distinguished man of advanced years, but his back was straight and his gaze shrewd. On his arm was an elegant silver-haired woman. Behind walked …
Allarde! Tory was so startled that she tripped over her partner’s feet and almost pulled them both down. She apologized without taking her gaze from Allarde.
Seeing him unexpectedly made her freshly aware of his striking handsomeness. She’d first seen him playing ball with the other Lackland boys. His chiseled features and perfectly proportioned body were like a Greek sculptor portraying a great athlete, or even a god. But better because he radiated life and strength.
Sensing her regard, he turned. His face lit with the same surprise and pleasure Tory felt.
She recovered her wits enough to thank her partner for the dance. By the time she’d
CHAPTER 7
Tory tapped her foot to the music, thinking wistfully that this wasn’t what she’d imagined for her first ball back in the days when she’d thought herself normal. She’d dreamed of being presented to the beau monde in London. Her debut would have been held in the splendid ballroom of Fairmount House with her parents standing beside her.
Her ballgown would be both innocent and dazzling. The handsomest, most eligible young men in Britain would beg for dances. One or two would probably be inspired to offer marriage by the end of their dance, though Tory would cast her eyes down demurely and say something like, “Sir, you honor me, but this is so sudden!”
Unless that first dance was with Allarde. She might have been ready to accept him at the end of a single dance. She smiled to herself at the thought.
This Christmas country house ball in honor of Sarah and Roger did not match her dreams. There was less formality and half the people present were trying to ignore her existence without actually giving her the cut direct.
She didn’t have a dazzling new gown, either. With private defiance, she wore the pretty sprigged muslin with sapphire blue ribbons she had worn only once, on the fateful day that had sent her into exile. She’d thought the garment ruined, but Molly had fixed it up as good as new. The gown was very becoming, so why not wear it tonight?
Tory sat out the first two dances since her brother and Lord Roger were obliged to dance with Cecilia and Sarah and no one else asked. But Lord Roger partnered her for the third dance. He was an excellent dancer and he made her laugh.
Her brother appeared to claim her for the fourth dance. Large and blond, Geoffrey looked quite a bit like Sarah and not at all like Tory, but he’d always been an excellent brother. “May I have this dance, Lady Victoria?” he asked with a formal bow.
She curtsied in return. “It will be my pleasure, Lord Smithson.”
Formality ended as he led her to where a country dance was forming. “You’ve been holding up very well, Tory,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t blame you if you clawed some of these vicious tabbies.”
“It’s been a near thing,” she admitted. “But I didn’t want to embarrass my family any more than I already have.”
“I will never be ashamed of you.” The longways dance called for a line of men to face a line of women. As they took their positions, Geoffrey glanced at the door. “I’m expecting a few more guests. Ones you should enjoy.”
The music began and Tory concentrated on the dancing. Geoffrey had often been her partner when she was learning, so they danced well together. As they moved down the lines of dancers, she was pleased to see that the men didn’t shrink from taking her hand and whirling her around. They didn’t seem to think she was contagious.
The atmosphere eased enough that she was asked for the next dance by a male who wasn’t related to her. Her partner was a shy young fellow from the neighborhood, and not a very good dancer, but his gaze was admiring.
The dance was just ending when the door opened and Geoffrey’s late guests arrived. First was a tall, distinguished man of advanced years, but his back was straight and his gaze shrewd. On his arm was an elegant silver-haired woman. Behind walked …
Allarde! Tory was so startled that she tripped over her partner’s feet and almost pulled them both down. She apologized without taking her gaze from Allarde.
Seeing him unexpectedly made her freshly aware of his striking handsomeness. She’d first seen him playing ball with the other Lackland boys. His chiseled features and perfectly proportioned body were like a Greek sculptor portraying a great athlete, or even a god. But better because he radiated life and strength.
Sensing her regard, he turned. His face lit with the same surprise and pleasure Tory felt.
She recovered her wits enough to thank her partner for the dance. By the time she’d
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