Regency Rakes 02 - Rescued By A Viscount (3 page)

“I’m sorry. I thought I was the only one who was not overly enamored with these events, brother.”

They stopped behind several other people, and once again Mathew looked down at her, his eyes searching her face. “Perhaps if you had asked, I would have told you.”

Claire didn’t know what to say to that because she’d never really shared confidences or secrets with Mathew. It had been Anthony she was close to, not her older brother.

“Excuse me, children. I see a friend I would like to talk with. I shall see you both later in the evening.”

The Belmont siblings watched their mother move with ease through the crowd and disappear.

“One wonders how she saw her friend when I can only just see over the

heads closest to me,” Mathew said.

“She has been to more of these events than both of us put together, Mathew, but she never seems to tire of them. Do you think it is something lacking in her or us that we cannot find the same enjoyment?’

Mathew didn’t answer her immediately, as he navigated them around a large, chatting group of guests, but Claire could see he was thinking carefully about what to say next.

“I would never suggest mother’s intelligence is beneath ours, Claire. However

I will say she finds joy in her surroundings far more easily than you or I.”

“Acceptance, Mathew. She is far more accepting than us, surely?”

He let out a little snuffle that was his way of showing humor. Mathew rarely laughed out loud. Indeed, perhaps he was more like her than Claire had realized. He rarely expressed emotions. “We should probably host a ball one day. Mother is constantly harping on about it.”

God, just the thought made her shudder. All those preparations and invitations. The planning would take weeks. “Must we?”

“But how are we to secure you a husband if your hostessing prowess is not displayed to the eligible bachelors, sister?”

Claire looked up at her brother with narrowed eyes. He looked calmly back.

“You had better be teasing me, brother. For in truth, were you not, I may be forced to seek retribution.” She was surprised to realize they were actually having a conversation that she was enjoying. Usually Mathew was lecturing her, and she was snapping back at him. They had not laughed in each other’s company for a long time, especially since their brother’s death.

He snuffled again and continued walking. “What will it be, Claire? Frogs or insects in my bed?”

This time she laughed, remembering their childhood antics “Frogs, I think.”

“You are about to be claimed for your first dance, sister, and for the record, I would never accept Lord Smythe’s suite, were he to offer for you.”

Claire eyed the tall man heading her way. “Why?”

“My horse could outthink him.”

“Mathew!” Claire gasped, giggling behind her hand.

“Good evening, Lord Belmont, Miss Belmont.”

“How does Arthur fare today, Smythe? I heard he was not in good form.”

Who was Arthur? Claire thought, looking from her brother to Lord Smythe.

“Much better, Belmont. He ate a full meal before I left for the ball, and I have hopes of letting him outside again in the morning.”

“Who is Arthur?” Claire questioned.

Mathew turned to face her, his eyes twinkling—a rare sight. “Lord Smythe’s piglet. He takes it everywhere with him. It even lives in the house.”

“In my room,” Lord Smythe said, nodding his head several times.

“Well then,” Claire said because she could think of nothing further to add to this silly conversation.

“Perhaps you will take your brother’s word more seriously in future,” Mathew said in her ear. Then he kissed her cheek.

“May I have this dance, Miss Belmont?”

“Thank you, Lord Smythe, I would be honored.” Claire gave her brother a bright, very false smile and then let Lord Smythe lead her onto the dance floor.

CHAPTER TWO

Claire tried to focus on her partners as she danced the next set, yet she kept surveying the crowd, searching for Simon. She was determined to avoid him for as long as possible.

“Can I get you some refreshment, Miss Belmont?”

“No thank you, Lord Cavell, I shall be fine.”

After he had excused himself, Claire stood on her toes and looked around the room. She couldn’t see the black and silver hair of Lord Kelkirk, however that did not mean he was not here. She would keep moving, circling the room, and then if she saw him, she could nip behind the nearest statue.

“Hello, Claire.”

“Eva, how wonderful to see you–it seems such an age,” Claire declared as her friend appeared before her.

“I saw you Tuesday, Claire–surely not an age, as this is only Thursday.”
“Perhaps not an age then,” she added, looking over her friend’s shoulder.

Was that that Lord Kelkirk? He was tall and that man was tall, although from this distance, she could not determine if he had the distinctive black and silver hair.

“Who are you looking for, Claire?”
“Looking for?” Claire brought her eyes back to her friend.

The Duchess of Stratton was giving her a puzzled look, her head tilted slightly to one side while she studied Claire with her pretty, sapphire blue eyes. “You appear to be searching for someone.”

“No, just being nosey.”

“Well, it is hard not to be at occasions such as these. This is my second season, and I am still constantly surprised by the clothing and antics of the guests. Have you seen Lord and Lady Pepper?” Eva added behind her hand as she moved closer to Claire.

“Oh lord, what are they wearing tonight?”

Eva made a great show of looking about her. “Matching lemon, and whilst you may not think lemon a disturbing color, this is.”

“Disturbing how?” Claire whispered back behind her own hand.

“It’s the brightest lemon and quite hurts the eye, and her dress is fashioned like his jacket, with little buttons running up the front and a panel of piping down the skirt to make it look as though she has trousers on.”

She just had to see that, Claire thought, climbing to her toes, which gained her nothing, as most of the men were taller than her, and some of the ladies. “Who do you think dresses them? I’m thinking it’s someone they’ve done something grievous to. Someone who has revenge on her mind and is slowly extracting it, outfit by outfit.”

Eva laughed, which made her look lovelier, if that was possible. The duchess was a beautiful woman, and had Claire not been her friend, she would have disliked her intensely. She had thick, raven locks and the kind of figure that made men sigh. She looked stunning in whatever she chose to wear, which tonight was an emerald green creation that made her look like a goddess.

“How is it possible you look like that after the birth of your child only a few months ago? I saw how big your stomach was, after all. Tis most unfair, and may I add, were I not your friend, I would be quite put out that if anything, you appear lovelier.”

Waving the compliment aside, Eva continued with their conversation. That was another thing about her that Claire liked–she was totally unaware of her beauty. “It would not be quite so bad if Lady Pepper was not so…”

“Fleshy, elephantine, paunchy? Come, Eva, I’m sure you can come up with a descriptive word.”

Eva pinched her friend’s arm.

“Ouch! I was only stating the truth. We all know Lady Pepper has eaten one éclair too many.” Claire climbed to her toes once more and surveyed the room again. Eva thought she was seeking the Peppers, however she was looking for Lord Kelkirk.

“I’m sure you’re looking for someone and not telling me who.”

Eva may appear sweet and innocent, Claire reflected, but she was intelligent and tenacious when required. “I’m searching for the Peppers, as you very well know, Duchess. Now tell me, how is my darling Georgia?”
The puzzled look left her friend’s eyes to be replaced by a look of love. Her lips tilted into the smile a woman got when she fell in love or had a child, signaling a kind of longing Claire had never experienced–a total and utter devotion to another person. “Oh, Claire, she is so sweet. Why, just yesterday, she rolled over twice. We shall not be staying long this evening, as both Daniel and I are loath to leave her over long.”

Happy to let her friend talk about the baby while she kept an eye on the people around them, Claire listened with one ear.

“I am bringing her to visit with you and your mother tomorrow. I saw Lady Belmont briefly a few minutes ago, and she told me I was to come.”

“That’s Mother for you. She demands and everyone falls in with her wishes. However in this case they coincide with mine nicely. I found the sweetest little doll–”

“Claire, you gave her a gift last week. You shouldn’t spoil her so much. Simon is the same. He’s always popping in with something tucked under his arm.”

“Is he?” Even the mention of his name made Claire’s heart thump. Could she avoid him for the remainder of the season?

“He carries her around in his arms the entire time he’s visiting. Daniel says it’s the most emotion he’s ever seen him show a woman besides his aunt.”

“Aunt?” Claire couldn’t remember meeting his aunt.

“His aunt and uncle live at his estate, I believe, and he is very close to them.”

“Good evening, Claire.”

“Good evening, Daniel.” Claire smiled as the Duke of Stratton approached. He instantly slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. Their marriage had had a tumultuous beginning, yet it had grown into something that was the envy of many, and the birth of their daughter had only strengthened those bonds.

“We were just discussing Simon’s devotion to our daughter, darling.”

“Yes. It’s an amazing thing, really, considering he usually has no time for anyone but himself.”

Claire and Anthony had grown up with Daniel, and for many years they had been close, until the death of her brother when, distraught, she had turned her back on everyone. It had taken Eva stepping into both their lives to bridge the gap between them. “As he’s your dearest friend, your grace, one wonders how you speak of your enemies,” she said, enjoying teasing the man who had once walked over the hills of her home for hours, whilst they endeavoured to find a tree tall enough to climb so they could see London.

Daniel Stratton was a big, handsome man. He was far more serious than his friend Lord Kelkirk, yet he, too, had stirred passion in many women, both married and not.

“It never pays to let Simon know you care for him or he takes advantage of you, Claire,” the duke said. “And now, if you will excuse us, I am going to dance with my wife.”

“Of course.”

Claire watched Daniel lift Eva’s hand to his lips before placing it on his arm. Eva’s smile was soft as she looked up with her husband, and Claire could almost feel the love that flowed between them. She wanted that–a love so strong that you felt what the other half of you felt. Pain, happiness–your life was so entwined in another’s that to be parted was almost too much to bear. She saw Eva look up at Daniel, saw them share a secret smile as he swung her into his arms. Sighing, Claire turned away. They had ruined her with their love. Now she refused to settle for anything less.

Looking up, she saw him then–Lord Kelkirk–making his way through the horde of guests, stopping occasionally when someone talked to him. She supposed he was a good-looking man. It was the hair, of course–the black threaded with silver. It made him stand out from the men around him. The fact that he was tall and had a big strong body helped, too. Clothes seemed to sit on him effortlessly, and he carried himself with a natural elegance that made a person look–especially if that person was a woman. Not her, of course. Claire and Simon had drawn swords long ago and merely tolerated each other for the sake of their friends. However she was a woman, so she occasionally did look.

He wore charcoal this evening. His jacket fit him to perfection. His waistcoat was silver and blue, and with his white shirt and neckcloth, she supposed he was one of the more stylish men in attendance. As if he knew she was studying him, his eyes swung to where she stood. Claire could feel the intensity of that grey gaze even if she could not see it from here. Desperate to escape before he reached her, she sought someone to save her from the upcoming confrontation. She would need all her wits about her when that moment came, and tonight was not that night.

“Mr. Rynell, I believe this is your dance?” Claire said, placing her hand on the sleeve of the man who was standing with a group of men to her right. He stared at her open-mouthed.

“I…is it? Of course it is.” He recovered quickly; she had to give him that. Offering her a strained smile, he then led her onto the dance floor.

“Miss Belmont, if I may have a word–”

“Not now, Lord Kelkirk. As you can see, I am to dance with Mr. Rynell.” Widening her smile as much as she could without causing herself pain, Claire sailed past Simon as he scowled at her, his grey eyes narrowing as she proceeded to chatter like a new debutante to her bemused dance partner.

She danced and danced and danced. Never taking a break, Claire simply went from one partner to another until she feared her feet had blisters on their blisters. Every time she thought to stop, she would see him, Lord Kelkirk, leaning on a wall, watching her intently. She even danced with Lord Pepper, who was preening over the interest his jacket was causing. The color was so bright, she could not look at it for too long or her head started to ache.

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