A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (8 page)

Jonas stopped Quin just before they
entered the ball at Eversley Hall, blocking his entry to the grand
event. “Don’t forget your promise to me.”

Quin couldn’t keep his eyes
from rolling. “Soul of discretion. That’s me.” He scowled at
Jonas’s dubious expression. “Can we get on with it? I have a bride
to meet.” When his friend made no move to get out of the way, he
continued with: “And
woo
.” It took a sincere amount of
effort to refrain from shivering at the thought.

Jonas stepped aside and swept his arm
toward the open door. Quin grumbled beneath his breath as he walked
past the baronet and into the house, “I still say this is not a
good idea. Not at all.”

The temptation to ram a shoulder into
Jonas’s side proved too great to escape, though Quin did somehow
restrain himself from knocking the bastard entirely off his feet.
At the sound of Jonas’s grunt, he silently congratulated himself
for that one small victory. He would have a more substantial
celebration later that evening—after he met his bride.

Waiting in the receiving line to be
greeted by Lord and Lady Eversley, Quin had difficulty in keeping
his mind focused. His damned cravat was too tight about his neck,
but if he tugged it loose, Jonas might back out. And without his
own invitation to the ball…well, suffice it to say that Quin had no
intention of climbing up balustrades or sneaking in through
servants’ entrances that evening. Particularly not while wearing
such dandified attire.

“
I feel like a bloody
peacock.”

“
Imagine that,” Jonas
drawled. “I’ve never seen a black peacock in my life.”

“
You said I didn’t have to
wear colors tonight. Black for evening.”

Jonas scowled at him. “I thought you
had your valet shave you today. You look to have gone for days
without a razor touching you. Have you scared it off as
well?”

Quin ran a hand over his
stubble-covered jaw. “Shaved this morning. Before the park. Sod
off, already.”

“
Watch your language. There
are ladies present.” Jonas looked at Quin’s appearance again.
“Tomorrow, have your valet shave you in the afternoon.”

Quin glared. “I could focus more on
using appropriate language if I could breathe. As if it wasn’t
enough to have a cravat cutting off my air, then we had to add a
blasted coat so tight it took two servants to put me in
it.”

“
Complaining will get you
nowhere. Now shut it, we’re almost to the front of the line.”
Jonas’s eyes held a triumphant look.

Quin might as well stop talking until
he found Aurora Hyatt. Fresh air seemed to be in rather short
supply. No point wasting any more of it on Jonas.

When they finally reached the inside
of the ballroom, he really couldn’t breathe. The entire room was
awash in a sea of gardenias, roses, and daisies. The scent was
enough to block out the more expected smells of London, but whoever
decorated apparently didn’t recognize when enough was enough. He
thought he would drown in the horrid floral fragrance.

Quin attempted to block the thought
from his mind. He had more pressing matters to think of that
evening. “Do you see her?” His eyes scoured the crush, despite the
fact that he’d never seen the bloody minx before, so he had no
earthly idea what he was looking for.

“
Not yet. Be
patient.”

“
Patient. That’ll be the
day,” Quin muttered beneath his breath.

Everywhere his eyes fell, some silly
debutante smiled back at him, flouncing her fair ringlets or
fluttering her eyes from behind the cover of a fan. Blasted
innocents, all of them, with their pale gowns and blushing cheeks.
Did they not realize a man like him was dangerous? Lucky for them,
he did have at least a small amount of honor. Debauching innocents
had never held any appeal for him. Quin preferred his women willing
and experienced.

Based on the story she wrote, Aurora
Hyatt lacked the experience part of the equation. But she was
definitely willing.

One of his two requirements would have
to suffice.

“
Do be a chap and try not
to look like such an ogre,” Jonas said, startling him out of his
rumination.

Quin raised a single eyebrow in
question.

“
You’re scaring the
chaperones.”

“
They should be scared.”
Why should he care? There was only one lady present that mattered.
If they ever found her, at least.

Jonas merely frowned and
sighed.

“
Have you found her yet?”
Quin asked.

“
Just now.” Jonas made a
slight gesture to his right. “Look across the way, coming in from
the veranda.”

No, that was all wrong. A small,
fair-haired woman was headed their way, wearing some soft, shimmery
gown that floated about her slight figure. “I thought you said her
mother was from somewhere exotic. She looks like any ordinary
English chit to me. Pretty, yes. But”

“
Not that one. Behind
her.”

Good Christ in heaven. Quin nearly
stopped breathing.

Somehow, the goddess Athena had
dropped into the middle of London. Long and lean, with curves
begging to be touched. Lady Kiss-Me-Down-There’s bosom blanched in
comparison to the ample display before him now. This was no
shrinking English rose, destined to be a wallflower all night.
Aurora Hyatt had dark, rich hair and eyes as clear as the sea,
which stood out all the more because of her darker-than-acceptable
skin and the bold shade of her gown. Her skin probably tasted
darker, too. Richer. Quin was almost salivating, just thinking
about it.

Well. He certainly could do worse for
himself. Being leg-shackled to this temptress might not be
terrible, after all. “I’m going to ask her to dance.” Quin started
across the room, only to be hauled back by Jonas.

“
You can’t. Not yet. We
need to find her chaperone, gain an introduction.”

If they weren’t surrounded by half of
England, he would have planted Jonas a facer. “Bloody hell.” These
delays would land him in either Bedlam or Newgate, not at the
altar.

“
Be patient. Go find a lady
you already know. A
reputable
one.” Jonas lifted an eyebrow in warning. “Dance a
set or two. I’ll locate Miss Hyatt’s chaperone.”

Quin made a gesture that could have
been a nod of agreement, but wasn’t anything, really, and Jonas
left him. When had patience ever been a virtue he possessed? Never.
Wasn’t likely to become one at the moment, either.

He crossed his arms over his chest and
glared. Dancing was the last thing on his agenda. Christ, he didn’t
even know any reputable ladies. Not in Town, at least. No, he would
stand where he was and wait for Jonas to locate the minx’s bloody
chaperone, and then somehow get an introduction. And then…then
what?

Then his life as he knew it would end.
A chill washed over him.

A gentleman he had met at the first
ball of the Season and then promptly forgotten walked over in his
inflexible attire and opened his mouth to speak.

Quin’s icy glare had just the effect
he desired. The dandy snapped his jaw closed, turned on his heels,
and scurried in the other direction.

Jonas had better hurry. The longer
Quin had to sit and wait, the more uncomfortable he grew. And when
he was uncomfortable, Jonas knew as well as anyone that Quin was
capable of doing downright anything, including any number of things
that he shouldn’t.

He continued to watch Miss Hyatt.
Perhaps stare would be a more accurate term. Or devour.

Her eyes fairly shone in the
candlelight. She leaned in and whispered something into the
smaller, fairer young lady’s ear, and then they tittered and faced
his direction. Two other ladies sidled up alongside them and
divulged what he could only imagine to be some delicious piece of
gossip before moving on.

Miss Hyatt and her companion looked
boldly across at him. Quin inclined his head to them. He
thought—nay, he was certain—Miss Hyatt bobbed a tiny curtsy back in
his direction.

Very promising, indeed.

Could that gossip have been warning
them to stay away from the blackguard across the way? This might be
easier even than he’d anticipated.

A group of men he’d never seen before
moved in his general direction. One of them, a tall and lanky fop
with prettier eyes than most women, bowed to him. Quin gave no
response at all. He had no intention of being distracted from Miss
Hyatt. Finally, they took the hint and left.

A squat man with hair in desperate
need of being tamed moved in front of Miss Hyatt and her friend. He
bowed low to them and spoke for a few moments. Probably some suitor
asking for a dance. Possibly even one he’d read about in Miss
Hyatt’s scandalous journal.

The orchestra started to play a reel,
and couples moved to the dance floor, taking up their positions.
The bushy-haired gentleman led Miss Hyatt out, and another cad went
over to collect her companion.

Regardless of the short man’s
identity, he couldn’t pose much of a threat. Aurora Hyatt would
never give him a second thought, based on the reactions she wrote
to the men of her acquaintance. Besides, she was in love with Quin.
He was more certain of that fact than ever.

Granted, he’d only known of her
existence for a few hours. But that was beside the
point.

Since Jonas
still
had not returned,
Quin made for the card room, at least for the remainder of the set.
Perhaps he could find a decanter of brandy. Surely Eversley kept
some spirits about. He was in luck. A well stocked sidebar sat just
behind the
Vingt-et-un
table. He poured a glass, motioned to the dealer to deal him
in, and played away the next hour or more.

Until Jonas found him. “What, pray
tell, are you doing in here and not in the ballroom
dancing?”

Quin took another sip of his brandy
before answering. “Enjoying myself. You’d do well to do the same.
If anyone is in need of a drink to loosen up, it would be you. Care
to join me?” He moved to get up and pour Jonas a drink.

Jonas appear somewhat less than
amused. He turned to the dealer. “Deal him out.”

When everything had been settled at
the table, Jonas took hold of Quin’s arm and rather forcibly pulled
him from the room. When they were out in the hall and away from
eavesdropping ears, Jonas faced him and wrinkled his nose. “Devil
take it, Quin, you’re well into your cups. I’ve just spoken with
Miss Hyatt’s aunt, Lady Sedgewick, and she had agreed to an
introduction after dinner. But now…”

“
Now what?” He’d be damned
if anything or anyone was going to ruin his plans that evening.
Especially some crabby old biddy.

“
She’ll never agree to it.
You’re completely ape-drunk. She’ll smell you from halfway across
the ballroom.” Jonas shook his head. “I think you’ve gone and done
it this time.”

Quin didn’t like his friend’s tone.
Like he’d given up. Just like everyone else. “Gone and done what?”
His words were slow, even.

When Jonas finally looked up at him,
his eyes were pained. “I can’t rectify everything for you. Not when
you keep throwing everything I’ve done away.”

“
No one asked you to
rectify anything. You did this.” Quin pushed away and ripped at his
cravat, tossing it to the floor. “You insisted on making me
presentable
, honorable.
You put me into these blasted clothes and dragged me all over
Town.”

How could this be happening? His one
friend. The one person in the world that was always on his side. It
was almost unbelievable.

Quin wanted to run. He wanted to throw
his bloody coat in Jonas’s face and leave. Like he always had. Like
he always would.

He had to get out of there.
Before…

“
Don’t run away. For once
in your life, be a man.”

No. No, Quin wouldn’t be that bastard.
Not tonight. He had a purpose tonight. A mission. He’d be damned if
he let anything stand in the way of finishing what he started, at
least this one time. Least of all himself.

He shoved past Jonas, almost knocking
him over with the force of his shoulder.

“
Stop, Quin.” Jonas tugged
on his arm, but Quin shrugged it off.

“
Go to the
devil.”

But instead of going out the front
doors and leaving, he turned at the grand hall. Quin plowed into
the ballroom, daring anyone and everyone with his eyes to try to
stop him. No one did. They all scurried out of his path like rats
in sudden light, clearing his way to the one thing he would stop
for.

Aurora Hyatt.

~ * ~

“
Oh, dear good
Lord.”

Lord Quinton was walking toward her
and looking positively murderous. Not to mention looking straight
at her.

He was devilishly handsome. Her
imagination had done the man no favors at all. His black overcoat
pulled sinfully tight across his chest and arms, revealing muscles
taut as leather. And that hair—it had to have been streaked by the
god of the sun. It was long enough to fall loose around a rough,
square jaw, dipping even lower to brush against the open neck of
his shirt.