Read Online The Black Lotus (Night Flower) by Claire Warner - Free Book Online
Authors: Claire Warner
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needed. His situation demanded it, if he didn’t have his diversions, he would surely go mad.
He stretched out his foot to the flames and picked a stray thread from his sleeve as his thoughts roamed over the ball’s occupants. His current flame was Mary Westbury, an overly clingy female who was quite ready to run off with him to Gretna. He was giving serious thought to ending the relationship, but who would he take in her stead? Elinor Marling was available and more than once he had seen her eyes seek out his form on the dance floor. Yet Elinor would bore him, he could see that without even attempting to woo her, the unfortunate girl held no more interest than a pail of pump water. Sarah Davenport was a good choice, she had cast her spell on most of the young man around her, yet she knew a good deal and was far too sensible, she also giggled incessantly. It was no fun seducing one who would annoy him beyond all reason. His fingers ran over the smooth surface of the bottle as he discarded female after female, he was beginning to wonder if his boredom was more pervasive than he initially thought.
Melissa
The girl’s name burst into his thoughts and his mouth opened in shock, he had almost forgotten her, strange as it seemed. Her first night in society had proven to be the most interesting night he’d had there in years. His mind’s eye ran over his images of her, a vision in stunning green, a goddess in taffeta. Her eyes had trapped him once and he recalled the intelligence and strength he had seen within them. She was a force to consider, she had caused a huge stir, her beauty had dazzled the room, yet he could feel that there was more to her than that. It was this feeling that had driven him to seek her out, yet he had not charmed her. He recalled his words with a shudder of regret, wondering what had driven him to answer so poorly. Melissa De Vire had something to her, beyond that of a usual social butterfly; he had seen something in her eyes something that intrigued him and yet he had pushed her away. He ignored the thought that he had found someone who could understand him and turned to her altercation with the odious Montjoy. The rake deserved more than the slap she had dealt him and he hoped that her older brother would deliver the chastisement needed. The girl had verve; he couldn’t imagine the other women reacting to Montjoy’s attentions with such spirit. He smiled at the image of Melissa’s fingers striking the man’s face and he regretted his flippant approach to her. He had damaged his chances, yet he was convinced that he could have her should he wish it. He hesitated at the thought. Did he really want to seduce her as all the others?
He swallowed another slug of the whisky and considered the problem. Melissa had something more to her; there was something in her eyes that held him. She had smiled at him and his thoughts had muddied, becoming confused by her smile. In the confusion, his words had snarled out of him, speaking his thoughts as though called by her clear gaze. And she had answered him back, her own temper rising above the politeness required by her station. He smiled at her audacity and wondered if it had been that which had triggered his uncharacteristic apology. Ordinarily he would chalk up the loss and return to the room, yet he had felt compelled to apologise. He had used words that had been sincere and from the heart and then he had left, worried by the way her smile tugged at him. He had not returned to claim a dance, preferring Mary and her uncomplicated company. Yet he could not banish her from his thoughts. He needed to talk to her again. She would undoubtedly hold his failure to return against him, yet he was confident in his powers of persuasion. As he knocked back another slug, he ignored the small voice that was telling him to leave the girl; that thinking of her was dangerous and tempting him to break a vow. He also ignored the even smaller
He stretched out his foot to the flames and picked a stray thread from his sleeve as his thoughts roamed over the ball’s occupants. His current flame was Mary Westbury, an overly clingy female who was quite ready to run off with him to Gretna. He was giving serious thought to ending the relationship, but who would he take in her stead? Elinor Marling was available and more than once he had seen her eyes seek out his form on the dance floor. Yet Elinor would bore him, he could see that without even attempting to woo her, the unfortunate girl held no more interest than a pail of pump water. Sarah Davenport was a good choice, she had cast her spell on most of the young man around her, yet she knew a good deal and was far too sensible, she also giggled incessantly. It was no fun seducing one who would annoy him beyond all reason. His fingers ran over the smooth surface of the bottle as he discarded female after female, he was beginning to wonder if his boredom was more pervasive than he initially thought.
Melissa
The girl’s name burst into his thoughts and his mouth opened in shock, he had almost forgotten her, strange as it seemed. Her first night in society had proven to be the most interesting night he’d had there in years. His mind’s eye ran over his images of her, a vision in stunning green, a goddess in taffeta. Her eyes had trapped him once and he recalled the intelligence and strength he had seen within them. She was a force to consider, she had caused a huge stir, her beauty had dazzled the room, yet he could feel that there was more to her than that. It was this feeling that had driven him to seek her out, yet he had not charmed her. He recalled his words with a shudder of regret, wondering what had driven him to answer so poorly. Melissa De Vire had something to her, beyond that of a usual social butterfly; he had seen something in her eyes something that intrigued him and yet he had pushed her away. He ignored the thought that he had found someone who could understand him and turned to her altercation with the odious Montjoy. The rake deserved more than the slap she had dealt him and he hoped that her older brother would deliver the chastisement needed. The girl had verve; he couldn’t imagine the other women reacting to Montjoy’s attentions with such spirit. He smiled at the image of Melissa’s fingers striking the man’s face and he regretted his flippant approach to her. He had damaged his chances, yet he was convinced that he could have her should he wish it. He hesitated at the thought. Did he really want to seduce her as all the others?
He swallowed another slug of the whisky and considered the problem. Melissa had something more to her; there was something in her eyes that held him. She had smiled at him and his thoughts had muddied, becoming confused by her smile. In the confusion, his words had snarled out of him, speaking his thoughts as though called by her clear gaze. And she had answered him back, her own temper rising above the politeness required by her station. He smiled at her audacity and wondered if it had been that which had triggered his uncharacteristic apology. Ordinarily he would chalk up the loss and return to the room, yet he had felt compelled to apologise. He had used words that had been sincere and from the heart and then he had left, worried by the way her smile tugged at him. He had not returned to claim a dance, preferring Mary and her uncomplicated company. Yet he could not banish her from his thoughts. He needed to talk to her again. She would undoubtedly hold his failure to return against him, yet he was confident in his powers of persuasion. As he knocked back another slug, he ignored the small voice that was telling him to leave the girl; that thinking of her was dangerous and tempting him to break a vow. He also ignored the even smaller
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