contact, a heated excitement spread
throughout Constance’s body. Shocked
by the betrayal, she retracted her arm.
“Is anything amiss?” he asked. His
brow rose quizzically.
“Forgive me,” she said, placing her
hand upon her drumming heart. “I fear
you’ve given me quite a shock.”
His eyes locked onto hers. “By
taking your arm?” he decreed. “I have
done even more outrageous things and
have been called to heel by the ton
because of them. If I have overstepped,
please do not take offense.” The devilish
grin on his face suggested he was not
apologizing and would do it again if
given the chance.
“You give yourself too little or too
much credit. I cannot decide which.”
“Were you in the know, you’d
condemn me most readily.” He winked,
and then bowed low, releasing his scent
of sandalwood and spice. Upon rising,
his eyes held a passionate twinkle.
Earthy and brown, friendly and trusting,
his eyes were laudanum for her nerves.
Though they had only just met, Stanton’s
charm, his casual mocking of the ton, his
self-loathing, and fashionable wit found
her favor. Yet, even as her heart opened
to him, there remained only one man in
her life. Thomas. The man she wanted
but could not have. Stanton’s non-
threatening, mischievous flamboyancy
bewitched, but she could not be parted
from Thomas’s memory and the feelings
she held most dear. Nor could she forget
Burton, a loathsome character bent on
ensnaring her like a ravenous spider. In
both cases, the danger was real to her
person and her immortal soul.
“I take it, from your silence, you
censure me.”
Lost in her musings, she did not
realize a lengthy silence had descended
between them. She quickly apologized.
“No, my Lord. My silence was not a
reflection upon your character.”
Stanton took her hand in his and
stroked his white gloved fingers over
her nimble digits. “I’ve never met a
woman like you,” he admitted.
“Nor I a man like you,” she
affirmed.
Neither had noticed the music had
stopped.
He placed his finger on his nose as
if deep in thought. “How to reveal this
without causing a stir,” he proposed.
“Reveal what? Causing what stir?”
she asked, intensely curious.
“There is no other way to explain,
except straightforwardly,” he said,
taking both her hands in his. “You’ve
captivated me, Lady Constance.”
“How can that be, sir? You do not
know me. Perhaps it’s just the splendor
of the evening, rigorous dancing, great
music, and candlelight that transforms
your mind.”
“One needn’t smell the rose before
acknowledging
its
beauty.”
He
referenced the flower again. A flush
spread upwards from her toes. “Forgive
me,” he said. “I do not know when your
father will grant your presence again.
You have already admitted that he does
not enjoy the formalities of the ton. What
I meant to say is I have studied your
character and I am quite sure you will
make a suitable bride.”
She inhaled deeply. “For someone
… someday.” Tears moistened her eyes.
How could she bear the truth? The night
had grown short. Soon, the whole world
would know she was destined to be
Lady Burton.
“No,” he said. “Not someone. Me.”
Constance blinked, uncertain she’d
heard correctly. “But you do not know
me, my Lord. Surely — ”
“I know no better way to say it than
this. I have already spoken with your
father and he has given me his blessing.
Say you’ll agree to be my bride, Lady
Constance. Give me the pleasure of
announcing that you’ve accepted my
hand.”
Her head spun. He had to grab her
to keep her from fainting dead away. She
couldn’t believe her ears. Stanton had
asked for her hand and her father had
approved? What had happened to his
agreement with Burton? She gazed about
the room frantically. Did Burton know?
If he did, he would turn murderous!
“Do you doubt my character?” he
pressed.
“No. No, my Lord.”
“Do you loathe my fashion sense?
My hideous face?”
He stood nearly a head and a half
higher than she. She gazed up into his
face. He was definitely flamboyant, by
his own admittance, and materialistic to
a fault. He enjoyed wealth and prestige,
but she’d witnessed compassion in his
eyes. His dark brows rose quizzically at
her
close
inspection.
His
high
cheekbones accentuated a sculpted
aquiline nose. His full lips curled ever
slightly as if concealing a hidden,
amusing enigma she would probably
strive a lifetime to solve. Indeed, he was
handsome, almost boyishly so beneath
his foppish resolve and powdered
exterior.
There would be repercussions.
Marrying a man like Stanton would open
her family to ridicule. And there was
Burton to consider. Father’s slight
would enrage him. Could Stanton
effectively protect her, her father, or
himself when the devil found out her
father had chosen another?
“Your silence condemns me,”
Stanton scoffed.
She lifted a trembling hand to her
mouth. His eyes dipped to her bosom
and then drifted up slowly, locking onto
hers, exciting her in ways she could not
define. Out of self-preservation, out of
love for her unborn child, she made a
spontaneous decision. “I admit you’ve
taken me by surprise, my Lord.”
“Life is meant to be lived to the
fullest. I guarantee you won’t be
disappointed with your choice, should
you accept my hand.”
There was something in his smile
that triggered her core. Immediately, she
knew her answer. “I accept.”
His lips curled into a chivalrous
smile. Instinctively, she moistened her
lips and parted them suddenly longing to
know if he would taste as sweet as the
man who haunted her dreams.
“There you are!” Burton barked,
pushing his way toward them, breaking
the spell. “It’s time,” he said, grabbing
her by the hand. He jerked her toward
him.
Stanton caught Burton’s arm. He
lifted his quizzing glass and inspected
Burton head to foot. “I see you’ve
righted yourself, sir. To your credit,
Throckmorton’s servants have proven
most adept.”
“No thanks to you,” the surly man
barked. “Take your hands off me.”
“You appear to have forgotten your
manners. Or is it customary for you to
manhandle your hostess? I will let you
go when you drop your arm and refrain
from behaving in such an objectionable
manner.”
“Objectionable? You’re the one
who cost me hours of shameless
upheaval!”
“I was only doing you a service,
sir.” Stanton pointed, with his looking
glass, at Burton’s cravat. “And see what
an improvement Throckmorton’s valet
has made to your person?”
Constance
forgotten,
Burton
released her hand and advanced on
Stanton. “How dare you!”
“I dare what I will, sir. Who are
you to say otherwise?”
“I am … I am … ” Burton stuttered.
“Boorish, sir! If there’s one thing I
cannot stand, it’s a bore.”
Bowing, Stanton put his arm
protectively upon Constance’s waist
and, thankful to flee Burton’s hostility,
she allowed him to lead her toward the
orchestra. Stanton nodded to her father,
who silenced the musicians. Stanton
leaned toward her, patting her back. He
smelled of sandalwood and freedom and
wore a victorious grin. Winifred and
Eleanor rushed to the forefront of the
crowd gathering around their host.
Her father began to speak. “My
distinguished
guests,
I
have
an
announcement to make.”
Burton shoved his way through the
crowd until he stood a few feet away.
Constance’s stomach coiled. But no
matter how much Burton scared her, she
finally felt as though she had a say as to
which direction her river forked.
Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer
that the dreadful man would not make a
scene.
Her father continued. “Tonight, I
would like to announce the engagement
of my daughter, Lady Constance
Danbury, to — ”
Burton stepped forward, a look of
satisfaction
illumining
his
face.
Unperturbed, Stanton cocked out one
hip, took out his snuffbox, dabbed his
nose, and inhaled. Raising his quizzing
glass toward the offensive man, he
winked as Throckmorton finished.
“ — Percival Avery, Marques
Stanton,
heir
to
the
duchy
of
Blendingham.”
Applause erupted. Burton turned
redder than the punch. Unsure what he
would do next, Constance braced
herself.
“This is an outrage!” the man
blurted, eyes bugging, lips hideously
stretched thin.
Simon grabbed Burton by the arm
in an attempt to guide him away from
Constance as guests questioned his
breach of etiquette.
“This is an outrage,” he repeated.
“Throckmorton and I had an agreement.”
“Thank you for your interest in
Constance, Burton, but Lord Stanton is
Constance’s choice.”
“Who cares what the chit wants?
You and I had a deal,” Burton charged.
“Throckmorton only cares about
what is best for Lady Constance,” Simon
stated for all to hear.
“You’ll regret this!” he yelled.
“Lady Constance is used goods!”
“How
dare
you
malign
my
daughter’s good name!” Throckmorton’s
voice silenced the crowd. Constance had
seen her father this enraged on only one
other occasion, the night she’d returned
from the sea without a mother.
“You know I speak the truth!”
Burton fumed.
Stanton pushed her behind him,
protectively. Constance was grateful for
his sheltering presence but she feared for
her father. “Ladies and gentlemen, do not
listen to this fool,” he said.
“Fool? Who’s the fool?” he
accused, his eyes scrutinizing Stanton up
and down. “Lady Constance boarded the
me r c ha ntma n
Octavia
,
which
was
attacked by pirates and now sits at the
bottom of the Channel. She is alive only
because pirates took an interest in her
and then brought her back to London.”
A low rumbling ignited the crowd.
Constance
nearly
swooned
with
humiliation.
“How conveniently you disperse
this information when you think the lady
out of reach.” Stanton’s unusual pitch
silenced the crowd.
“I offered for the lady’s hand to
keep anyone from knowing she was
spoiled goods,” Burton complained.
Stanton spread his arms wide.
“And yet now, when she is out of reach,
you besmirch her character? What idiocy
is this?”
“Do you dare insult me?”
“I dare to ask you for proof,” he
exclaimed.
“Oh, proof exists!” Burton vowed.
“Do not doubt it.” His eyes scanned the
crowd. “Lieutenant Guffald. Come
forward.”
The crowd parted as the uniformed
man approached. Guffald would not look
Constance in the eyes, but kept his gaze
riveted on Burton.
“Tell everyone here what you
witnessed.”
An awkward silence followed.
Guffald cleared his throat as Constance
took a step forward, but Stanton’s hand
stayed her. Living the life Stanton
offered had been a fanciful notion. She
knew that now. “It’s all right, Lieutenant.
Tell the truth,” she said. When her belly
swelled with a pirate’s child everyone