Authors: Nichole Matthews
The Earl of Rockwell’s amber eyes narrowed into slits, the look in his eyes hard and determined, his lips twisted. “I’m not trying to ruin her; just showing her how dangerous it truly is to dally with real men, not one of the fops she is used to.” He took another long swallow of his whiskey. He damned well didn’t need a little girl, and that was what she was. He had bedded so many members of the opposite sex that he had lost count. He could snap his fingers right now and have anyone he wanted. Frowning thoughtfully, who cares if he was recently thinking otherwise? Who was he kidding? He was a fool. But that didn’t mean he had to mention it to Seymour.
She was so tiny, so delicate. A crown of short, glossy brown curls sprinkled with golden highlights and the same unmistakable rich blue eyes as her brother. He had known
George
looked familiar. She was a miniature female version of Ashford especially with her cropped hair. Which no doubt was attributed to her ruse at the literary club. Intrigues and mysteries they were all his favorite types of novels and he was determined to play with her at least for a little while. What could it hurt to entertain himself for a day or two? It didn’t matter what she had done to capture his attention, she had it now and he was positive this was going to be one of the most exciting seasons he had experienced in a long, long time.
He had studied her ever since he walked in the room. She lit up the room when she danced. Her laughter floated through the air, light, airy and joyous. Men’s eyes were drawn to her at each earthy giggle that escaped her rosebud lips. Every man here wanted to dance with her, to be able to hold her in their arms. He could tell by the gleam in their entranced eyes as they followed her twirling figure around the dance floor. He knew what they were feeling, because he felt exactly the same way. His eyes were glued to her every move. Surprised at how fascinated he was, he realized that he might have to eat his own words. What was even more surprising was that he wasn’t sure if he cared.
Graydon exchanged a glanced with Seymour whose brows rose high on his forehead. He elbowed Seymour in the ribs, nudging him to move. Seymour sighed in resignation as they circled the room, sauntering towards Parker.
“
After putting me through all this agonizing torture, don’t let her fly the coop, old man.”
……………………………
“
Are you alright, my dear?” Miss Harris asked. “You seem overly flushed.” She quickly moved on to the next topic floating through her mind. “Aren’t the decorations magnificent this year? I love how Lady Wrothingham hung those lanterns in the garden. ‘Tis like a magical fairy land.” She smiled, looking about the room. “So very charming. I’ve always adored the oriental decor. I’m surprised she would not have used more reds. I always think of the color red when I think of oriental décor. And of course black.” She glanced around the room some more. “But I suppose black would cast too somber of a mood over a ball, don’t you agree, my dear.”
She flung her hand down when she realized she was reaching for her ear again. Instead she vigorously applied her ivory handled lilac silk fan which perfectly matched her ensemble for the evening with her left hand. “I believe Lady Wrothingham’s favorite color is lavender, Miss Harris,” she returned absently, her brow furrowed, her eyes following Rockwell around the oriental themed room. He stood head and shoulders above many of the gentlemen. Tall, strikingly handsome and he always exuded raw masculinity, which Piper found irresistible. She couldn’t miss him; she had felt the heat of his stare from across the crowded ballroom all evening.
“
Indeed, it is quite lovely, Miss Harris. Have you perchance seen Chester?” Piper asked apprehensively, her eyes scanned the opulently decorated room for him. “It’s imperative that I speak with him immediately.” She looked around nervously. “Or perhaps Agnes, have you spied her?” Piper’s foot tapped impatiently on the parquet floor.
“
Are you looking for someone particular, my dear?” Lord Perceval Gideon inquired as he sidled up next to her.
Piper swallowed a sigh of irritation. She turned and confirmed that one of her latest admirers had indeed pressed close to her side.
Not again.
She turned with one of her brilliant smiles plastered on her face, “Lord Perceval.” She lifted her hand in greeting, “How perfectly delightful to see you again.”
He beamed engagingly at her, bowing low over her gloved hand. “I know I am late and I’m sure I have no chance of being accepted, but have you already been promised to someone for the next set, Lady Piper?” His eyes were hopeful when they looked longingly into hers.
“
Lord Perceval,” her voice kind and patient, “Portland is supposed to stand up with me during the next set.” She looked impatiently around, waiting for Chester to join her. Icy fingers of unease swept down her spine causing her to shiver as her eyes were captured by a knot of guest where an attractive unknown gentleman stood out among the men. His eyes didn’t waiver. He just watched her with a darkly intense stare. She didn’t know why, but a feeling of disquiet shrouded her. She shivered, losing her train of thought. Instinctively she took a step back, bumping into Miss Harris.
“
Whatever is the matter with you, Piper?” A worried frown marred Miss Harris’ face. “I have not seen you look this agitated in an age.”
Piper looked back at her companion. “It’s nothing…I don’t know…” She huffed, turning back to Lord Perceval. “Perhaps we can dance at a later time, Lord Perceval?” She effectively dismissed him.
“
Of course, I will look forward to it.” Bowing with a slightly disgruntled frown on his face, he spun and walked away.
“
I need Poppy. I wish she were here already.” Glancing back she noticed the stranger was still watching her. “Miss Harris, do you happen to know that gentleman standing against the wall. He has almost black hair and he keeps staring at me.”
“
I don’t see a gentleman with black hair standing by the wall dear.” Miss Harris looked down at Piper with a knowing look. “I know these entertainments can be stifling at times. Poppy will be here next week, dear. And you will be able to have a nice comfortable coze with her then. She will help ease your spirits.”
Looking back she could no longer glimpse the man, biting back her unease she responded to Miss Harris, “I miss her so much.”
“
What is going on over here?” Chester asked jovially, bowing exaggeratedly to both ladies. “I believe this set belongs to me.” He held out his arm to Piper.
“
I was looking everywhere for you Chester.” Piper chewed worriedly on her lower lip as she gripped his arm firmly. “I must talk to you immediately,” she said, attempting to pull him away from the dance floor.
“
Whatever for?” Chester looked around the ballroom in confusion. “I thought we were going to dance? Where are we headed?”
Piper rolled her eyes, clasping her hand tightly around her cousin’s arm dragging him past a group of chattering ladies to duck into a private alcove hidden in the wall.
“
He knows!” She took a deep fortifying breath. “I just know he does. He looked right at me. He’s never looked at me like that before the afternoon of the literary club. He figured it out somehow.” She paced back and forth, “He was with Seymour too. I’m going to be ruined. Parker is going to kill me!” Her chest heaved with the emotions coursing through her body forcing her to take deep gulping breaths. She waved her fan briskly in front of her heated face.
Chester patted her hand in a brotherly fashion. “You worry too much.” He smiled placidly at her. “I haven’t heard anything at all. There are no rumors going around the club.” He looked into her eyes. “Besides, Rockwell, Seymour, Hawksley, Durham and your brother have been friends since university. Calm down before you make yourself sick, my dear.” Moving, he glanced around the room, straightening his chartreuse waistcoat. “I cannot even see him from here. You’re worrying exorbitantly for no reason.”
Piper plied her fan more vigorously as she forced herself to take a deep breath. “You’re probably right Chester. I’ll try to calm down.” She attempted to breathe in and out in a calming manner. Her eyes closed as she counted to ten. “I’m fine. I will be fine. I am as calm as I could possibly be now. I wish Poppy were here. She would help me distract him. She was ever so much better at these games.” Smiling grimly at Chester, “I promise I am fine now.”
Chester grinned. “Then why are your fingers still biting into my arm?” He chuckled. “Everything is going to be fine.” He frowned as he saw a deeper flush spread across Piper’s cheeks and her eyes grow wide in fear. “What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder, gasping loudly. He reached for Piper’s arm, whispering through a fake smile, “Just act naturally. There is no reason that they should suspect anything.”
Piper whispered back, “I do believe I am going to faint.” She groaned, fanning herself even more robustly.
“
You are not the swooning type.” He glanced at her.
Watching Parker and Rockwell stroll sedately towards them, all she could do was take a deep breath. “I’ve never fainted before in my life, but I believe I’m going to start tonight. I’m doomed! No, I’m dead, completely dead,” she hissed to Chester. “I might as well purchase some bombazine and walk around with a veil. I will be a cast-off from Society if Rockwell so much as mentions my venture into the literary club.”
“
You would probably enjoy that anyway. Then you can become some eccentric bluestocking and not worry about what other people say.” Heading back towards Miss Harris, he whispered behind his hand, “I told you he hasn’t a clue that you and George Smith are one and the same, so please relax. You should take time to enjoy yourself. What harm did you cause by wearing trousers? No one even knew.”
Grinning widely, unaware of the tension, Parker called, “Chester, Piper, are you having a fine time so far?”
She released Chester’s arm. “Of course Parker, I’m having a wonderful time.” She looked up into her brother’s matching eyes. “As I’m sure are you, dear brother?” She grinned.
He patted her hand affectionately. “Of course, my dear. You know how I love these entertainments.” Piper smiled when she heard the sarcastic note in his tone.
Glancing at Rockwell, Parker gestured, “I would like to introduce a good friend of mine.” He gestured to Rockwell. “Graydon Morgan, the Earl of Rockwell. This is one of my delightful sisters, Piper and her companion, Miss Aurora Harris. And I know you have met Portland at the club before and this charming lady on the chaise is my lovely aunt, Lady Adele Peregrine.”
“
Rockwell.” Chester inclined his head. Bowing over Miss Harris’ hand he exchanged the usual greetings. Miss Harris was very attractive for a companion which was not the norm, brown hair with burnished highlights and lively amber eyes.
Lady Peregrine sat back, gaze shrewd. “My lady.” Graydon bowed elegantly over her hand. She fixed him with a stare that had him fidgeting where he stood.
He blinked at her. Why did he feel like he was in trouble?
“
Rockwell,” Adele bent her blue gaze upon him, regarding him with considerably greater interest than Piper would have liked.
His eyes held hers, then his lips curved in a smile that must have tamed her concerns because she responded with a smile of her own. He gently placed a kiss on Lady Peregrine’s hand before relegating it back to the arm of her chaise. “An absolute pleasure, my lady.” An outrageous smile spread across his face before pivoting towards his true prey.
Reaching out, Graydon bowed; grasping one of Piper’s gloved hands and lifting it slowly to his lips. A tingling of awareness spread from the point where his fingers gripped hers. Even now he was studying her with a hungry look, pausing in his inspection. His golden-amber eyes gleamed at her humorously as he drawled, “Lady Piper.” Glancing up with a roguish twinkle in his eyes, he took another step closer his heated gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. She was a vision in white satin. Her gown was cut low over the bodice which had a crisscrossed design and sported short capped sleeves. A gauze overskirt flowed softly over her slender frame. Her bosom set apart with the lilac sash that trailed behind her. Her bared arms were covered with long white gloves. She was the very picture of innocence, but he knew there was a hint of wickedness lurking just below the surface. She was tiny, but more than enough to heat his blood. And she was already under his skin. His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. He was intrigued beyond believing and he was absolutely positive she felt the same.
Her senses leapt at the sound of his voice, her toes curled in her silver slippers. She did everything she could imagine to avoid eye contact; she tried to look anywhere but directly at him. “A pleasure, my lord,” she murmured. Her eyes cast down, ignoring the flare of awareness his touch had provoked. It was actually quite exhausting.
Returning to his full height before leaning closer to confess, “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.” His voice deep and slightly gravelly, looking at her with curiosity, his brow furrowed. “Have we met before?” He looked at her pointedly with a crooked smile on his lips. “I cannot imagine that I would ever be able to forget your eyes, such a magnificent shade of blue.”
Tugging her hand free from his, she fanned herself once again. “I believe a chance encounter at the Crenshaw’s ball, my lord,” she responded with studied innocence and a faint lift of her brows. “In regards to my eyes they are similar to my brother’s that is probably why they seem so familiar to you.”