though
looking for someone. She spun her head back, and her gaze raked his
face.
“ Oh no —I mean … who …?”
An absurd suspicion crossed his mind. He had learned
that his lady love enjoyed reading and writing. He had learned that
she had published an article or two whilst at school, and recently
in a few unguarded moments she had expressed her love of writing.
She had quickly waved it all off as nonsense, and he had taken it
as such, but now … his interest was fairly caught.
Later, after they returned to the party from their
walk, he could not help but notice that she looked dissatisfied,
even with her Otto and that other, Sir Charles, in attendance. He
noticed her still looking down the wide, sandy trail that led to
the road. Who had she been looking for?
Eight
THE RUTLEDGE BALLROOM was full to overflowing, and
the evening hour still early at ten o’clock!
Babs noted all the women in their finery and jewels,
candles sparkling, and people twirling about the dance floor, but
her heart sank. Wildfire (as she had come to think of him) hadn’t
arrived. He hadn’t been at the picnic earlier that day, and Sir
Charles had said he rather thought he would be there. Now, once
again her hopes were dashed as she saw no sign of him. She was
definitely beginning to feel blue-deviled.
Beau Brummell strolled in and cast his comments on
the wind, for he was at outs with the Prince Regent and was bold
enough to remark upon it in public. Thus, laughter and whispers
already abounded.
If that was not enough, Byron entered the chamber
with his half-sister, Augusta, on his arm; a barely audible gasp
went around the room. Things certainly appeared as though they were
heating up, but not for Babs, who moved about restlessly and
disinterested in everything.
She escaped the ballroom undetected and went for a
bit of a walk from room to room, if only to work off her agitation
and disappointment. She was just about to step outside for some air
when she felt the hem of her gown being tugged and heard the
unmistakable sound of ripping material.
“How clumsy of me.” It was quietly said as a
white-gloved hand reached out gently to take hold of her bare
elbow, for she had tripped during the incident and was
unsteady.
Faith ! A shivering burst of energy shot
through her at the sight, sound, scent of him so near. What
was wrong with her? She really did not even know him—did she? No,
she was blistering with desire and moving along on female instinct.
What should she say? If Otto had ripped her gown, she would have
laughed and called down abuses on his head. When she opened her
mouth, absolutely nothing came out . OH, eeek—he must think me an
idiot! Finally she choked out, “Oh … it is nothing …
really.”
They both regarded the fine, soft material of her
blue gown and the enormous length of material that had been yanked
away from it to hang sloppily on its own.
He said, “This is all my fault—I wanted to catch up
to you before you were out of sight and stepped forward too
quickly. Please allow me to help you make repairs to your
gown.”
He was so cool, so collected, so … oh so
charming. His deep blue eyes caught and held her for a long moment,
and she felt herself blush. “I … I have some pins …” She
shook her sequined reticule hanging from her gloved wrist for
emphasis.
He towered over her. His scent was masculine, and
she felt light-headed. He spoke softly, only to her. “Pins, just
what we need to set us on our way …” A teasing quality coated
his voice, and as she looked into those blue eyes she felt lost.
What was wrong with her? She had to get control over her fanciful
state of mind.
He already had her gloved hand and led her to a
nearby door. He opened it, peered within, and exclaimed with
relief, “I don’t think we will be interrupted in here …”
She followed him within and noted that he was
careful to close the door after her. She felt herself tremble with
anticipation.
It flashed through
looking for someone. She spun her head back, and her gaze raked his
face.
“ Oh no —I mean … who …?”
An absurd suspicion crossed his mind. He had learned
that his lady love enjoyed reading and writing. He had learned that
she had published an article or two whilst at school, and recently
in a few unguarded moments she had expressed her love of writing.
She had quickly waved it all off as nonsense, and he had taken it
as such, but now … his interest was fairly caught.
Later, after they returned to the party from their
walk, he could not help but notice that she looked dissatisfied,
even with her Otto and that other, Sir Charles, in attendance. He
noticed her still looking down the wide, sandy trail that led to
the road. Who had she been looking for?
Eight
THE RUTLEDGE BALLROOM was full to overflowing, and
the evening hour still early at ten o’clock!
Babs noted all the women in their finery and jewels,
candles sparkling, and people twirling about the dance floor, but
her heart sank. Wildfire (as she had come to think of him) hadn’t
arrived. He hadn’t been at the picnic earlier that day, and Sir
Charles had said he rather thought he would be there. Now, once
again her hopes were dashed as she saw no sign of him. She was
definitely beginning to feel blue-deviled.
Beau Brummell strolled in and cast his comments on
the wind, for he was at outs with the Prince Regent and was bold
enough to remark upon it in public. Thus, laughter and whispers
already abounded.
If that was not enough, Byron entered the chamber
with his half-sister, Augusta, on his arm; a barely audible gasp
went around the room. Things certainly appeared as though they were
heating up, but not for Babs, who moved about restlessly and
disinterested in everything.
She escaped the ballroom undetected and went for a
bit of a walk from room to room, if only to work off her agitation
and disappointment. She was just about to step outside for some air
when she felt the hem of her gown being tugged and heard the
unmistakable sound of ripping material.
“How clumsy of me.” It was quietly said as a
white-gloved hand reached out gently to take hold of her bare
elbow, for she had tripped during the incident and was
unsteady.
Faith ! A shivering burst of energy shot
through her at the sight, sound, scent of him so near. What
was wrong with her? She really did not even know him—did she? No,
she was blistering with desire and moving along on female instinct.
What should she say? If Otto had ripped her gown, she would have
laughed and called down abuses on his head. When she opened her
mouth, absolutely nothing came out . OH, eeek—he must think me an
idiot! Finally she choked out, “Oh … it is nothing …
really.”
They both regarded the fine, soft material of her
blue gown and the enormous length of material that had been yanked
away from it to hang sloppily on its own.
He said, “This is all my fault—I wanted to catch up
to you before you were out of sight and stepped forward too
quickly. Please allow me to help you make repairs to your
gown.”
He was so cool, so collected, so … oh so
charming. His deep blue eyes caught and held her for a long moment,
and she felt herself blush. “I … I have some pins …” She
shook her sequined reticule hanging from her gloved wrist for
emphasis.
He towered over her. His scent was masculine, and
she felt light-headed. He spoke softly, only to her. “Pins, just
what we need to set us on our way …” A teasing quality coated
his voice, and as she looked into those blue eyes she felt lost.
What was wrong with her? She had to get control over her fanciful
state of mind.
He already had her gloved hand and led her to a
nearby door. He opened it, peered within, and exclaimed with
relief, “I don’t think we will be interrupted in here …”
She followed him within and noted that he was
careful to close the door after her. She felt herself tremble with
anticipation.
It flashed through
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