Page 17 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
Despite how she nervously scanned the ballroom for a sign of him, mumbling a prayer under her breath that he decided to stay home for the night, she didn’t regret the words she’d written. She’d been honest and forthright in her assessment of his candidacy…even as she acknowledged she was just a bit captivated by him. The marquess reminded her of a great lion who had blunted his claws; he may not slash you if you taunt him, but he might still crush you with his powerful jaws. She saw that same compelling intensity in Inverray, and was helplessly, annoyingly, drawn to it.
Spying an empty chair near the corner of the room, Alicia made her way through the chattering crowd toward it. A moment or two of peace was just what she needed to collect herself. Plus, her slippers were pinching her feet.
As she stepped around a cluster of chattering matrons, a hand suddenly grasped hers. Glancing over her shoulder, she was abruptly trapped in the Marquess of Inverray’s stormy gray eyes.
“Did you forget you promised me this dance?” His deep tenor felt like fingertips trailing down her spine.
Panic made her swallow convulsively, and she shook her head. “Of course not. I thought perhaps you’d forgotten.”
His smirk expressed his disbelief. “When I’ve been looking forward to it all evening? I think not.”
Goodness, she hadn’t expected pretty words to fall from the marquess’s mouth. Inverray did not release her hand, and the heat of his palm radiated to hers, sending her pulse racing.
Lifting her chin, she said, “And yet I’ve not seen you all evening, so it’s easy to imagine you’ve been using that same line on every woman you’ve danced with.”
His grip on her hand tightened. “This would be my first dance of the evening, my lady. I’ve had no interest before this set.”
Oh.Inverray looked down at her with a ghost of a smile on his lips, and her poise wavered. It was so very hard to maintain her customary composure in the face of such a confession, and Alicia’s mental tug-of-war ended abruptly. “Very well.”
He lead her easily amongst the twirling couples, and in a swift turn, one hand was on her waist, while his other hand laced their fingers together. It was such a simple move and yet it felt scandalous. Just clutching his firm shoulder felt intimate, and Alicia tried to ignore the rush of attraction that flooded her blood with any number of wants and desires.
Desires she’d never known or experienced.
His broad chest lay before her gaze, and she longed to run her hand over it, curious to see if it was as hard as it appeared. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulders, and if the scorching hand on her waist was any indication, he would be able to span the width of her with no issue. He was overwhelming. Everything about him threatened to devastate her: the angle of his sharp jaw, the raven curls that caressed his shoulders, the fierce light in his gray eyes. His plush, resolute mouth.
Alicia dropped her gaze from his perfect face to stare at his perfect cravat, willing her thoughts to focus. He didn’t know she was the chapbook writer. There was no reason for her to be intimidated.
They had twice twirled around the perimeter of the dance floor before Inverray spoke.
“Were you interested in politics, in strategizing, before you married the old earl?”
“No.” She wrinkled her nose. “My interest in politics was born out of my desperate desire to have a conversation with my husband when he deigned to visit the family estate during Parliament breaks.”
“Why did Lindsay not bring you to London with him?”
“Because then he would have to live with me. Converse with me. Share the breakfast table with me.” Her snort was inelegant. “Lindsay had no interest in actually interacting in any meaningful way with his doll-wife.”
“Doll-wife?” Inverray frowned. “Is that how the earl treated you? As if you were nothing more than a toy to showcase to his friends?”
Alicia swallowed, the fury bubbling in the marquess’s gaze a surprise. And a delight. Still, she took a moment to settle her turbulent emotions. “Lindsay was good to me. He ensured I wanted for nothing. I just don’t think he ever considered companionship as a necessity.”
Admitting such a truth was acid on her tongue. Lindsay had cared for her when no one else had, but in the years since his death, she could finally admit that it hadn’t been enough.
“I made it a point to understand Lindsay’s interests so I could hold a conversation with him.” Alicia licked her lips. “I was so very eager to speak with someone who experienced life outside of the bubble I had been confined to.”
“How very dreary that sounds.”
“Indeed. Which is why I was determined to come to London after his death. Why I am so thankful for the kindness Lady Firthwell has shown me.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “And you, my lord.”
Inverray was silent for a long moment, although his hand on her waist tightened as they circled around the dance floor. “Even though I have antagonized you over some of the views you’ve expressed?”
“You’ve done no such thing.” Alicia chuckled. “You’ve merely challenged my assertions. Analyzed my opinions. I’d wager an opinion is not worth having if it cannot stand up to even basic scrutiny.”
The marquess pulled her a tad bit closer. “To be perfectly candid with you, I did not want to come tonight. As I am sure you’re already aware, another tract was released today. This time it was critical of both Medlinger and myself, but the thought of walking into this ballroom, knowing the author’s words would be in everyone’s mind when they looked at me, made me want to stay home and nurse a dram of whisky instead.”
A sour knot of emotions coiled in her gut. Alicia had purposely kept her thoughts from Inverray since Effia had accepted her newest essay because she knew he would be upset.
But her imagination had been unable to convey the embarrassment that pitched his deep voice. The hint of pink that stained the crests of his cheeks. That her words had brought this bold, gallant man such disconcertment made her heart throb uncomfortably in her throat.
