A Marriage Made in Mayfair (7 page)

“Suzanna, please, my lord. Miss March can sound so droll at times.”

He laughed, and another shiver of delight stole over her body. Why did his voice make her react in such a way? “You do understand I view our newfound friendship as just a friendship, my lord?”

He smiled and looked away. “If it is what you wish, then of course I’ll honour your wishes.”

Suzanna gazed at his lordship and noted her words had somehow stripped warmth from his gaze. At the sound of laughter, she looked toward a copse of trees and saw Victoria walking some distance before her mama’s carriage with a gentleman Suzanna did not recognize.

“That is Mr. Swinson, an American from New York. He’s rich as Croesus and only too eager to publicize the fact.”

“By the tone of your voice I gather you do not like the gentleman, my lord?”

“No, I do not. He’s a gambler.”

Suzanna frowned at the hateful tone of Lord Danning’s words. “You do not approve of gamblers or the vice?”

“Not at all, but to lose one’s fortune and estates which generations before you have worked hard to keep,” he said, meeting her gaze, “is the worst kind of treachery.”

“I agree,” Suzanna said. “Seems such a useless thing to do. I am so fortunate to have a brother who stays well clear of such London dens.”

“Really?”

At Lord Danning’s sarcastic tone, Suzanna met his gaze and frowned. “Well of course. Henry has assured me on many an occasion he does not partake in that gentlemanly pursuit.”

Lord Danning maneuvered the curricle to a halt not far from where Victoria strolled with Mr. Swinson and ordered his tiger to hold the horses.

Suzanna ignored the warm comforting heat of his lordship’s hand as he helped her step from the carriage. Even the leather of her glove was no impediment to the effect he had on her. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
Damn him
.

Victoria rushed toward them. “Suzanna, I was hoping to meet you here. Lord Danning told me you were to ride with him today.”

“Victoria,” she said, kissing her friend’s cheek. “I too am glad to see you.” Suzanna looked at Mr. Swinson and smiled.

“Oh, let me introduce you. This is Mr. Swinson, a friend of my father’s from New York. Mr. Swinson, this is my oldest and dearest friend, Miss Suzanna March.”

Suzanna curtsied, then immediately found her hand placed neatly on Lord Danning’s arm. She met Victoria’s laughing gaze and strove not to blush. The gesture, as sweet as it appeared, merely indicated his lordship was a gentleman and nothing more.

“We were about to walk down to the Serpentine. Would you care to join us?” Victoria smiled and Suzanna noted Mr. Swinson’s appreciative gaze linger on her friend.

Suzanna looked to Lord Danning. He nodded. “We would be pleased to join you, Lady Victoria,” he said.

They strolled the grassy bank that led to the water, the sunlight warm and comforting on their skin.

“I’ve heard Moncroft’s ball will be a crush once again. I do not understand why he sends out so many invitations when his modest ballroom can only hold so many.”

Suzanna chuckled at her friend’s annoyance. “To have a crush is the thing, don’t you know, Victoria,” she said.

“True, I suppose, but it doesn’t make for a comfortable evening.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, Lady Victoria,” said Mr. Swinson, his native tongue sounding foreign in the English setting. “I, for one, could think of a better way to pass an evening.”

“Such as?” Lord Danning asked, the aggravation in his tone in no way veiled.

Eyebrows raised, Mr. Swinson looked at Lord Danning. Suzanna held her breath as the two men seemed to take the other’s measure.

“Well, to spend a night with a select group of friends, for one.” Mr. Swinson answered. “Perhaps the partaking of dancing and cards.”

“Hmm.” Lord Danning paused. “You run a printing company in New York, I understand. What is it that brings you to London?”

Suzanna met Victoria’s eyes and noted her friend’s unease over the barely disguised dislike between the two men. Had Suzanna not known better, she would think Lord Danning jealous. Did his lordship like Victoria and disagree with her association with the American? Was his denial of attraction to her friend a lie? Or was it because Mr. Swinson was in trade and therefore beneath notice?

“Pleasure, mostly.” Mr. Swinson smiled at Victoria. “And to see Lord Ross, of course. As you are well aware, his lordship is an old friend of my father’s. Then I shall travel to Paris. I’m looking to start a woman’s fashion magazine.”

“Sounds exciting,” Victoria stated.

“I wish you well with your endeavours, Mr. Swinson.” Suzanna smiled in all sincerity. She turned to Lord Danning. “I believe it’s time I returned home, my lord.”

“Of course.”

Suzanna bade goodbye to her friend and promised to meet up with her that evening. They walked to the carriage in silence. She stepped up into the curricle and settled her skirts. No sooner had she done so than the carriage lurched to one side as Lord Danning stepped within. Immediately upon him seating himself, Suzanna was reminded of how little room the carriage sported. His broad shoulders left little space between them. With a flick of the reins, they were off.

“You never answered my question, Suzanna.”

She looked away from the shop fronts gracing Park Terrace and turned to Lord Danning. A frisson of desire shot through her at his intense gaze. She stared, captured by the longing in his eyes, before pulling her gaze away to look at the road ahead. The feelings he evoked would not do at all. They were friends and nothing more. She swallowed. “What question was that, my lord?”

“If you would waltz with me tonight? I do mean to repair the damage I caused you last season, and I think stepping out with me this eve will ensure many a gentleman will ask for your hand.”

He smiled, clasped her hand, and raised it to his lips. His eyes met hers just as his lips touched her glove and Suzanna reminded herself to close her mouth. “I’m sure this drive today has more than helped, my lord. Besides, for all we know, it may have been something other than our disagreement last season that saw the
ton
term me a failure.” Suzanna paused. “In any case, it does not signify what balls and parties to which society will invite me. I am determined to marry for love and to a man who is wealthy enough not to be in the least awed by my dowry. All I have to do is find him.”

“Even so,” he said, flicking the reins. “Will you waltz with me?”

“Yes, of course, my lord. I would be honoured.” Suzanna looked toward her home looming before them, a haven she longed to step within before she became the blabbering fool from last season. Under the intense scrutiny of his lordship, it was only a matter of time before she blundered, and said something ridiculous. It would be so easy to fall for his ardent charm and hooded, deep, ocean-blue eyes in which any woman would be willing to drown.

Chapter Eight

The Moncroft ball was indeed a crush. People milled in every available space of which there was little in the undersized room. Suzanna and Victoria greeted the Countess and joined the throng. Few were recognizable due to the masks and dominos covering their faces and evening wear.

Suzanna looked about the ballroom in awe. Guests disguised in an array of masks—some plain and others decorated with gems–circulated and danced with carefree abandon. Beads, silk, and jewels sparkled in the candlelit room, giving the night an air of mystery and decadence.

Excitement thrummed in her blood. Never had she been to such an event. And as much as she wished to deny her feelings, Suzanna was excited about her forthcoming waltz with Lord Danning. To have his arms about her, pulling her close to his strong physique was enough to make this evening marvellous. Even unforgettable.

“It will be impossible to know to whom we are talking. I cannot even make out some of the women’s hair colour under their wigs, not to mention their faces under the masks,” Victoria said, looking about.

Suzanna clasped Victoria’s arm and pulled her toward an area of the room that looked to afford more space. “Did Mr. Swinson tell you what he planned to wear this eve? He is to attend, I assume?”

“Yes,” Victoria said, stopping a footman and taking two glasses of champagne. “But he did not tell me what mask he would wear.”

“Do you like him, Victoria?” Suzanna asked. Not that she really wanted to hear the answer, should it be yes. Poor Henry would be devastated should he lose the affection of Victoria. But as her friend, she owed Victoria the opportunity to openly share her feelings.

“I do. Of course, I do. He is pleasant and always jovial.” Victoria paused, a slight frown marring her brow. “He is certainly a favourite with Papa.”

Suzanna nodded. “I should imagine so.”

“Between you and me, Suzanna, I do believe Papa would like me to marry him. Not that I will, of course,” she hastened to add. “But Mr. Swinson, for all his American ways, is actually the Earl of Manning’s heir—a distant cousin, twice removed; but still the heir when all is told.”

It was all Suzanna could do to hold the lump at bay in her throat over her friend’s disclosure. Henry would lose this battle just as she lost the battle to stop being clumsy at the age of eighteen. Poor Henry, he would be devastated.

A lengthy silence settled between them; one Suzanna found difficult to breach.

Finally Victoria looked at her. “Should Mr. Swinson ask for my hand, the answer will be not to his liking or my father’s, Suzanna.”

Suzanna blinked and met her friend’s gaze, the note of conviction in Victoria’s voice leaving no room for doubt of her sincerity. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear such news, even if it is at the expense of Mr. Swinson and your father’s happiness.” She clasped Victoria’s hand. “Does this mean should Henry ask for your hand in marriage you would be in agreement? That one day will I not only be able to call you my friend but my sister?”

“Yes it does,” Victoria replied, “if Henry should
ever
ask. Now talking of happiness, I do believe Lord Danning is heading our way.”

All the air expelled from Suzanna’s lungs when Lord Danning, dressed in a double-breasted coat with two tails stalked toward them, his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on one person.

Her.

Suzanna swallowed and then swallowed again when he towered before them. Tall and without a mask, his attention was obvious to any who cared to notice. Victoria, having such impeccable manners, politely bade good evening to his lordship, then walked away.

Unable to deny herself, Suzanna curtsied and took the opportunity to ogle his lordship’s muscular legs, which filled his skin-tight breeches very well. The peculiar sensation of desire shot to her lower abdomen. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Suzanna was hopelessly attracted to him.

He leaned close. “You are the epitome of beauty this eve, Miss March.” His whispered words sent a shiver of delight down her spine. “May I have this dance?”

Suzanna nodded, the ability to speak having vanished. His warm, gloved hand clasped hers, and he led them onto the floor. Other guests milled about them, readying themselves for the forthcoming waltz.

It took all Suzanna’s will not to swoon when his lordship’s arm settled about her waist. She caught the hint of sandalwood—an earthy, rich scent—as he pulled her against him. His chest was solid, his arms strong, yet his hands were gentle as they held her.

She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised you knew me, Lord Danning? My Egyptian costume fooled even my brother.” She smiled in the hope it would mask her nerves. He was an excellent dancer, his steps sure and capable as they floated around the room.

“I would know you anywhere, Suzanna,” he said, leaning devilishly close, his breath tickling her ear. Suzanna turned and found her mouth deliciously close to his. Their gazes collided and locked. Time seemed to stop.

“I do not recall giving you leave to use my given name, my lord?”

“Ahh, but you did, remember? In the park yesterday,” he said. “So may I, Suzanna? I promise to return the favour and allow you to call me Royce when we’re in private.”

Lord Danning’s—Royce’s—gaze settled on her lips. He was so close. So close, Suzanna had only to lean forward and their mouths would meet. Memories of his ardent, seductive kiss had her yearning for another. Another taste of sin.

A shrill laugh in the room brought them both to their senses. Lord Danning leaned back and smiled before settling them once again at a more appropriate distance.

“You make me forget I’m a gentleman, Suzanna.” He sighed. “You do realize before this evening is over I’m going to thoroughly kiss you again.”

Suzanna chuckled and raised her brow at the surety in his voice. “Really,
Royce
? And when, pray tell, will you have the opportunity to do so? I shall not be venturing to the terrace with you this evening, and you cannot kiss me here.”

“I want to kiss you. Here and now.”

Suzanna wanted it, too. Just the thought of engaging in such a naughty escapade before the uppity
ton
sent her rebellious side to sing. “Well you cannot. I forbid it.” She smiled and allowed herself to relax and enjoy the dance. At times, their gazes would collide and the dizzying, wonderful roll in her belly would occur. But, like all good things, the dance came to an end.

Royce, the perfect gentleman, escorted her to a quiet corner within sight of the dowager countess and her aunt Agnes, and sought out a beverage for them both. Suzanna watched him retreat and cursed the coat tails on his suit that obstructed her view.

***

Royce watched Suzanna sip her mulled wine. Her lips, supple and red, kissed the glass rim, and his body tightened with need. Her unique emerald eyes took in the festivities before them, the slightest smile playing upon her lips.

He marvelled at the fact Suzanna had not the slightest conception of what a beauty she was. Last season, had he had more control of his temper, he could have proven his regard for her before she fled to Paris. Now with every word he spoke, Suzanna scrutinized, and wondered if he were being honest.