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Authors: Elizabeth Hanbury
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curb his impatience and tread softly. It was important he didn’t bring undue attention down on her head.
So he was careful to dance first with Belinda, then Sophie and Olivia. The evening was well advanced before he approached Lucy as she left the dance floor with Mr Pottingham.
“Miss Sinclair. How charming you look this evening.” He bowed briefly towards her companion. “My compliments, Pottingham.”
A look of annoyance flitted across that gentleman’s face at the interruption, but he managed a civil greeting before saying to Lucy, “I must leave you to obtain some refreshments for my mother. However I shall return directly and then—”
“Please, take your time,” urged Alex. “I will entertain Miss Sinclair in your absence, although I shall probably not succeed as well as you.”
“I quite understand, Mr Pottingham,” said Lucy. “Your mother must be in need of refreshment in this heat.”
“Just so. But I look forward to continuing our discussion later and will certainly call in Mount Street tomorrow.”
With a final, glowering glance at Lord Devlyn, he bowed stiffly and left.
“Oh dear, he looks a little vexed by my arrival,” said Alex, his mouth quirking into an unrepentant grin. “My apologies for interrupting his interesting discourse.”
Lucy laughed. “As you must be aware, Mr Pottingham’s lectures are lengthy but very little is interesting!”
“Easy to see why he is annoyed though. You look very beautiful this evening. You outshine your sister.”
Lucy rejected this without rancour. “Now there you are certainly teasing me once more. As you see, Belinda is surrounded by crowd of admirers.”
“Ah, yes,” he murmured, studying Belinda and her entourage, “but then beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? Let us hope that those gentlemen are aware of your sister’s true worth beneath her exquisite countenance.” When she looked up quickly, he asked, “Would you do me the honour, Miss Sinclair? I believe this dance was promised to Toby, but I persuaded him that he has been exerting himself too much and I should take his place.”
*
Watching him, Lucy’s breathing quickened. He had asked her to dance out of courtesy, but she couldn’t be annoyed. She wanted this heady feeling of excitement to continue. What harm could there be in it? It was only one dance and he would be married to Belinda for a lifetime. Sighing faintly, Lucy accepted and gave herself up to the pleasure of dancing with Lord Devlyn.
When the orchestra began playing the new waltz, Lucy was grateful that she had practiced it, but the pleasure of having his body pressed against hers, the feel of his hand settling over the curve of her waist, threatened to banish every step from her head. His touch made her feel almost feverish. She could feel her blood running hot and fast. She closed her eyes and drew in his fragrance, the scent of sandalwood on warm male skin. He was so close, his strength and maleness surrounding her. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful. She swallowed hard and tried to marshal her wits. Forcing herself to relax and hoping she would not trip over her feet, she tilted her chin so she could look into his face.
“So you have paid my godmother a visit?” he began. “I understand she passed a pleasant afternoon in your company.”
“She is as exuberant as I remember,” said Lucy. “Lady Gainsford will never allow my grandmother will to become melancholy.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” He studied her, a slow smile curving his mouth. “Your grandmother must have missed you a great deal.”
A blush stole into her cheeks at the warmth in his voice. “The feeling of loss was mutual. Although we exchanged letters, I have often longed to see her since my father’s death.”
“Very understandable,” he murmured. “By the way, I have not forgotten my promise to acquire a suitable mount for you to ride. Could you oblige me by exercising a neat little mare I have recently
So he was careful to dance first with Belinda, then Sophie and Olivia. The evening was well advanced before he approached Lucy as she left the dance floor with Mr Pottingham.
“Miss Sinclair. How charming you look this evening.” He bowed briefly towards her companion. “My compliments, Pottingham.”
A look of annoyance flitted across that gentleman’s face at the interruption, but he managed a civil greeting before saying to Lucy, “I must leave you to obtain some refreshments for my mother. However I shall return directly and then—”
“Please, take your time,” urged Alex. “I will entertain Miss Sinclair in your absence, although I shall probably not succeed as well as you.”
“I quite understand, Mr Pottingham,” said Lucy. “Your mother must be in need of refreshment in this heat.”
“Just so. But I look forward to continuing our discussion later and will certainly call in Mount Street tomorrow.”
With a final, glowering glance at Lord Devlyn, he bowed stiffly and left.
“Oh dear, he looks a little vexed by my arrival,” said Alex, his mouth quirking into an unrepentant grin. “My apologies for interrupting his interesting discourse.”
Lucy laughed. “As you must be aware, Mr Pottingham’s lectures are lengthy but very little is interesting!”
“Easy to see why he is annoyed though. You look very beautiful this evening. You outshine your sister.”
Lucy rejected this without rancour. “Now there you are certainly teasing me once more. As you see, Belinda is surrounded by crowd of admirers.”
“Ah, yes,” he murmured, studying Belinda and her entourage, “but then beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? Let us hope that those gentlemen are aware of your sister’s true worth beneath her exquisite countenance.” When she looked up quickly, he asked, “Would you do me the honour, Miss Sinclair? I believe this dance was promised to Toby, but I persuaded him that he has been exerting himself too much and I should take his place.”
*
Watching him, Lucy’s breathing quickened. He had asked her to dance out of courtesy, but she couldn’t be annoyed. She wanted this heady feeling of excitement to continue. What harm could there be in it? It was only one dance and he would be married to Belinda for a lifetime. Sighing faintly, Lucy accepted and gave herself up to the pleasure of dancing with Lord Devlyn.
When the orchestra began playing the new waltz, Lucy was grateful that she had practiced it, but the pleasure of having his body pressed against hers, the feel of his hand settling over the curve of her waist, threatened to banish every step from her head. His touch made her feel almost feverish. She could feel her blood running hot and fast. She closed her eyes and drew in his fragrance, the scent of sandalwood on warm male skin. He was so close, his strength and maleness surrounding her. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful. She swallowed hard and tried to marshal her wits. Forcing herself to relax and hoping she would not trip over her feet, she tilted her chin so she could look into his face.
“So you have paid my godmother a visit?” he began. “I understand she passed a pleasant afternoon in your company.”
“She is as exuberant as I remember,” said Lucy. “Lady Gainsford will never allow my grandmother will to become melancholy.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” He studied her, a slow smile curving his mouth. “Your grandmother must have missed you a great deal.”
A blush stole into her cheeks at the warmth in his voice. “The feeling of loss was mutual. Although we exchanged letters, I have often longed to see her since my father’s death.”
“Very understandable,” he murmured. “By the way, I have not forgotten my promise to acquire a suitable mount for you to ride. Could you oblige me by exercising a neat little mare I have recently
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