Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (3 page)

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The one thing Charlotte hadn’t clearly thought out in this scheme was how she would actually stage her ruin. And though she was unsure of what exactly complete ruin entailed on her part, she knew she needed the marquess to succeed. The worse the reputation of her partner in crime, the harder she would fall. She did not want to be redeemed by a hasty marriage with Mr. Warren.

One had to wonder how many young ladies had contemplated their own ruin because of an undesirable match set up by their father or mother. A small pang of regret for what she was doing made her falter. The marquess tightened his hold as he steadied her.

“Has someone flavored the punch with alcohol?” he asked.

She gave a weak laugh. Had it been, she was sure her resolve wouldn’t waver in the slightest. “How embarrassing to have to admit this, but I’m feeling a little overexerted.”

She glanced down as though shocked she’d admitted such a thing. A lady should never reveal such weakness when partnered with a man like the marquess. Would he realize why she’d mentioned fatigue?

Conveniently, a breeze filtered through the doors that opened to the garden, bringing with it the intoxicating scent of peonies and lilacs. The marquess spun her away from the dark balcony and toward the punch table.

“Let’s get you freshened up, shall we?”

“I—I…” She scrambled for an excuse; something to draw him toward the darkness just beyond the French doors that were so close. “I have already partaken of that bland concoction they call refreshment. Perhaps the evening air will do me good.”

“And bring our acquaintance to such an abrupt conclusion?”

“It’s only a little air,” she shot back, more than miffed that her plan was slowly unraveling. Did he not understand her intent or was he simply avoiding putting her in a compromising position?

And then he laughed as though he understood the precise reason for her annoyance. “Introduce me to this cousin of yours. She seems to be having a heated conversation with Barrington that I fully intend to interrupt.”

He wanted to meet her cousin? Did he have designs on her? Yes, Genny was pretty, but she always dressed like a spinster who had no hope of ever finding a husband. Genny was like a chameleon, always blending into the background. And though Charlotte had offered to lend her dresses—they could easily hem them for the evening—her cousin had refused, preferring her plain clothes so she could remain unnoticed.

“Ah,” the marquess said, looking over Charlotte’s shoulder, “it seems she’s found a dance partner in Barrington.”

Charlotte whipped her head around, searching for Genny. Dancing? Her cousin did
not
dance. Not once since the season started had she done so; not even when Charlotte’s dance instructor came to the house did Genny indicate she could or even liked to dance.

As the marquess led Charlotte off the dance floor, Lord Barrington boldly took Genny’s hand and pushed her into a fast-paced mazurka. Charlotte stood on the edge, her mouth slightly ajar. She barely noticed that the marquess’s arm threaded through hers to guide her in another direction.

“Hmm,” Lord Castleigh said. “What is your cousin’s name?”

“Genevieve Camden.” She pushed a curl back from her temple in frustration. She wasn’t sure how she felt to see that all eyes were on Genny now and not on her while she was on the arm of the Marquess of Castleigh. How could she get the gossipmongers whispering about her if they paid her no mind? The evening was turning into a disaster.

“I never forget a face, so I’m not sure how it is I’m not recalling this magnificent woman who’s caught Leo’s eye.”

“I doubt they know each other.”

And what made Genny so
magnificent
? Lord Castleigh was supposed to be enamored with
her,
not her cousin. Charlotte should not be envious because her cousin seemed to attract the attention of two roués, both of whom were handsome and titled … and perfect for carrying out Charlotte’s plan. Actually, she should be jealous. If her cousin attracted rakes so easily, there would be no one left on Charlotte’s list—which admittedly had been shortened considerably, with names crossed off for one reason or another, leaving only four potentials.

She looked at her dance partner and unwilling abductor—why couldn’t he have whisked her off into complete privacy? Staring at his knowing expression, and his kind eyes, she realized there were no longer four potentials on her list. Just one.

Her goal felt so close yet so far. But failure was not an option.

With a sweet smile and her attention solely focused on the marquess, she said, “I think I will partake in a refreshment, my lord.”

“Excellent.” He turned them toward the banquet table with its assortment of punches and tiered trays of fruit, cheese, bite-sized pastries, and other desserts.

“The lemonade or the red punch?” he offered.

“It’s probably best we have the lemonade. The punch tastes like sweetened water.”

“How about…” The marquess reached toward the back where flutes of champagne were lined up in two neat rows. Procuring the fizzing liquid, he handed her one.

“I shouldn’t—” she started to say but stopped. Why shouldn’t she? If she was going to go down the path she’d chosen, she might as well enjoy it to the fullest. “Thank you. I’ve never had champagne before.”

“All the more reason to try it.” He tilted his head with a sly grin playing on his lips and tapped their glasses lightly together.

“How correct you are.” She mirrored his move, then put the glass to her lips. Papa could not abide drink of any sort. How wicked she felt. And she’d never have dreamed of doing this a few short minutes ago. Perhaps the marquess
was
a bad influence.

The aroma of the champagne was pleasant, and she didn’t wait for him to drink before taking her first sip. The flavor that exploded on her tongue was marvelous. Sweet yet dry and bursting with bubbles that tickled all the way down her throat.

The marquess stared at her as though no one else in the room existed. This was exactly what she wanted—his complete and undivided attention.

Oddly enough, no one noticed them, not even Lady Hargrove, so she took advantage of the temporary privacy by tipping her glass against her lips and draining the contents of the glass.

A hiccough came immediately afterward, surprising a giggle out of her—or maybe it was the bubbles that made her giddy. No, she thought, looking at the marquess’s intent gaze; it was the man before her that made her feel so oddly out of sorts.

“Another, my lady?” The marquess didn’t seem surprised by her gluttonous display.

She held the glass between two hands and shook her head. “Oh, definitely not.” She wasn’t sure if the drink had made her light-headed or if swallowing it all in one breath had done that.

She felt rather fantastic.

“I take it you are no longer parched?” he teased.

“Not for champagne.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. It might be normal for her to say things others might not, but innuendo was something she was careful with.

The marquess stepped closer and plucked the glass from her hands to give it to a passing footman. “That I can promise another time.”

She had to look away from the intensity of his gaze. It would be so easy to fall into those depths and commit to some very dangerous and sultry things. What she needed was a change in topic. “Why haven’t I seen you at any engagements before now, my lord?”

“Had I known this year wouldn’t be all bland affairs and dull company, I’d have come out sooner.”

“Will you be at the Carletons’ tomorrow evening?”

He seemed to think on that for a moment. “It will be a good event to attend if you are among the company.”

“I will be there. My cousin knows the Carletons well, and they extended an invitation to my whole family.” Her father did not like the Carletons, but he could not outright refuse an invite from people as socially connected as they were. “Though only Genny and I will be attending.”

“I look forward to another night in your company.” The marquess paused to look at something over her shoulder, and his smile became devilish. “Your cousin will be joining us momentarily.”

Charlotte turned, shoulders back, and watched her cousin approach with the earl following closely behind her. Her cousin’s face was slightly pinched, her color high, and she looked far from happy to have engaged in a dance with Lord Barrington.

Charlotte needed to figure out how to diffuse this situation so she wouldn’t have to say good-bye to the marquess quite yet. Without a doubt, her cousin would object to Charlotte’s escort.

“We are needed elsewhere.” Genny slid her arm through Charlotte’s. Would her cousin drag her away if she refused to go with her?

Charlotte stood firm and made it clear that she would not move. “Cousin, you are being discourteous.” Genny seemed stunned that Charlotte had openly reprimanded her. “Let me introduce you to the Marquess of Castleigh.”

If such a thing were possible, her cousin appeared to become even more irate. Although Charlotte hardly cared that introducing a lord of Castleigh’s rank wasn’t something a debutante, especially one of lower standing, should ever do.

The marquess bowed to her cousin and took Genny’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of the two most beautiful women at the ball. And to have you both to myself.”

“I know precisely who the Marquess of Castleigh is.” Genny said this to Charlotte, as though the marquess wasn’t standing before them. “You’ll do well to know, cousin, that his type is better suited to those found in a den of iniquity as opposed to a respectable ball.” She tugged at Charlotte’s arm, quite insistent that she should come with her. “Lady Carleton wanted to discuss the seating arrangements for her upcoming dinner party.”

“Firmly rebuffed, I daresay,” the marquess said, laughter and amusement thick in his voice despite the rudeness he’d just been subjected to.

What in the world had come over her cousin?

“Why should I have any say on her seating plans? You’re being incredibly rude, cousin. Apologize for your brash words at once.”

The way Genny acted was embarrassing. And the fact that her cousin treated Charlotte as if she were a girl still attached to apron strings stung a great deal more than she wanted to admit. The worst part was that Genny was treating her like a child in front of the marquess.

“I am positive that Lord Castleigh and Lord Barrington are not in the least offended. After all, I only speak the truth. Don’t I, gentlemen?” Genny looked to both lords for support.

“How could I ever forget that you had such a sharp bite, Miss Camden?” the earl finally said.

So they did know each other. Charlotte stood taller, suddenly curious. How did she not know that her cousin was so well connected? Aside from the Carletons being close friends of Genny’s, it seemed she also knew the Earl of Barrington. Whatever the reason for Genny’s sudden bad mood, it did not excuse poor behavior.

“Perhaps if more names were to fill your dance card, you’d understand what fine gentlemen these are—but that’s right,
you
don’t have a dance card, do you?” Charlotte jerked her gaze away from Genny, her cheeks heated.

That had come out far harsher than she had intended, but she was growing irrationally annoyed that her plan was failing at every turn. Maybe she’d chosen the wrong man to aid her in her ruin? Maybe she would have to go back to
the list
and pick another name. But she didn’t really wish to pick anyone else. Not now that she’d met the marquess.

“Take another turn around the room with me, Miss Camden,” Lord Barrington suggested to her cousin. His tone brooked no refusal.

“The attendees might think you intend something of a permanent nature where I’m concerned, Barrington.” Genny raised an inquisitive brow.

“No dancing, I promise. Just a few words shared between friends of old.”

Charlotte liked this plan a great deal, so she slid away from Genny to draw closer to the marquess. Lord Barrington didn’t seem likely to take no for an answer, and if he were to steal her cousin away, Charlotte would … she would what? Convince the marquess to take her to the balcony where they would ensconce themselves in a hidden alcove? Maybe she should just ask the marquess for his help? No, she couldn’t do that, not when he might refuse.

“And leave Charlotte in the clutches of your friend?” Genny said.

Charlotte opened her mouth to defend herself and the marquess, but Lord Barrington addressed his friend before she could speak.

“Keep company with Lady Charlotte while I take Miss Camden around the room. We’ll be but a moment.”

The earl didn’t wait for an answer before stealing Genny away.

“I had no idea my cousin and Lord Barrington were so well acquainted.” She watched the earl and her cousin, slightly baffled by the connection. Where would Genny have met such a distinguished member of the ton?

“If ever there was a woman to fear, she’d be that woman.” The marquess chuckled as he straightened the cuff of his jacket. “I suppose we’ll wait right here.”

She glanced at him, surprised by his willingness to do exactly as Genny demanded. “Do you generally do what you are told to do?”

“No, but I do not wish to cross swords with your cousin. I fear she’d dance circles around me and have me disarmed before I could raise any sort of defense.”