Page 12 of Enticed By an Earl
The truth was that he sought neither. He remained adamant that he did not want to marry. A few times, he glanced his mother’s way, making faces at her that underscored his intentions to remain unassailable.
His mother merely shook her head at him from afar.
He laughed and turned to seek out the next young lady to tease his mother by dancing with, but stopped short when he came face to face withher.
He had not seen the timid, almost ethereal woman enter the ball at all. She stood alone, off to the side of the room, watching him. She wore a gown of pale pink in the latest style. Her features were just a touch angular, but her skin appeared smooth and her cheeks glowed with health. Her lips were enticing, and even though she clutched her gloved hands anxiously over her stomach, Dev could see that she was trim and snug in her gown.
She was alone, but she was familiar. Dev was certain he’d seen her before, but he could not recall for the life of him where. Her blonde hair was pulled back and piled in curls atthe sides, as was the current fashion. As was also the fashion, she wore a wide ribbon edged in lace around her neck with a single drop pearl that hung down towards the scooping neckline of her gown. In one aspect, she blended in with the guests in the swirling, noisy ballroom perfectly, but in another she stood out as singular and unique.
Dev could not help himself. He put on a smile that he hoped was not too wolfish and marched straight across the room to her.
“Forgive me for speaking to you without being introduced, but you seem as though you are a bit lost, miss?” He raised his eyebrows as well as his tone in the hope that the unchaperoned young lady would introduce herself.
The woman caught her breath before all but whispering, “Miss Kitty Dryden.”
Dev’s smile widened, and he offered a hand to her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kitty Dryden.”
Slowly, Miss Dryden reached out a trembling hand toward his. The poor thing was frightened half out of her mind, though Dev could not for the life of him know why. Perhaps it was because her chaperone had abandoned her in a ballroom that was growing louder and more crowded by the moment.
Whatever the case, Dev took her hand and brought it to his lips. His nose was assailed by the scent of roses and lavender, and something else that he could not quite put his finger on, something that reminded him of his shaving soap.
“Has your chaperone abandoned you?” he asked, taking a half step closer to her and smiling in a way that would either reassure her or have her falling into fits of terror. He could not help but radiate the interest he had in her, no matter how much he promised himself he would be good.
“Er,” Miss Dryden glanced one way then the other, as if searching for the mythical chaperone. She finally let out abreath and faced Dev directly. “I must confess that I do not have a chaperone,” she whispered.
“No chaperone?” Dev asked, his brow shooting up. “That is highly irregular.”
More than just irregular, it was nigh on impossible. How did a solitary woman without a chaperone make her way into a marchioness’s ball?
“Do you have an invitation, Miss Dryden?” Dev asked playfully, still holding her hand. It was small but not quite as delicate as he would have imagined it to be.
“Yes, I do,” the woman said. “I promise you, I do.”
“I do not doubt you,” Dev said gravely. He was beginning to doubt other things, such as her claim that she had no chaperone—whomever it was, Miss Dryden must have mischievously slipped away from them so that she might navigate the ball on her own—but he did not doubt that she belonged there.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his mother. She stood with another lady of about her age and what appeared to be the lady’s daughter. Dev suspected the daughter was about to be introduced to him, like all the others. But his mother seemed interested in the fact that Dev had found a young lady he liked the look of all on his own.
“Would you care to dance, Miss Dryden?” he asked, shifting so that he could offer the mysterious woman his arm.
“Oh! I…yes, I suppose I would,” Miss Dryden said, already as breathless as if she had danced the night away.
“Then please do accompany me,” he said, gesturing toward the center of the ballroom as the orchestra began the opening notes of the next dance.
“Thank you,” Miss Dryden said, her smile luminous.
Dev tried not to think about the way his breath caught and his feet felt lighter as he escorted Miss Dryden to theforming lines of dancers. There was something so blasted familiar about the woman, and it aggravated him that he could not place it.
It mattered not. He had the rest of the evening to solve the mystery, and he was bound and determined to do exactly that.
Five
Kit had never been so terrified at a ball in his life. It was an entirely different sort of fear from that which he’d felt during his attack, or even as he’d shied away from the pugilists in the boxing match his father had dragged him to. It was the terror of knowing he was doing something that could change his life entirely, either for the better or for the worse, and if he was caught at it, not only would it mean his social ruin, it would probably mean the end of his life. If his father found out, he would not send a masked villain to snap his neck in the night, he would do the job himself in his own home.
He was not so foolish as to arrive at Russell House already dressed as Kitty. An unknown woman without a chaperone would not be let past the front steps, let alone into the ballroom, and she would have been scrutinized by the butler, who stood guard at the door, confirming invitations. Kit had an invitation, but it necessitated that he arrive at the house as himself, or rather, the male version of himself, and present the invitation that Lord Deveraux had sent him.
“Welcome, my lord,” the butler said with a smile and anod, confirming that Kit was allowed entry. He eyed the thick, out of season coat Kit wore and the valise he carried curiously, but said nothing more.
“Might you direct me to a retiring room?” Kit asked the man in a whisper, his entire body shaking with the transformation he was about to make. “I…I need a moment to compose myself.”
