Page 100 of A Sight to Behold
She hadn’t found her cousin anywhere in the ballroom, so she ventured into the halls.
Then she heard voices from the pavilion. Was that Pippa? It sounded like her. Somewhat. She moved closer. What was happening in there, she wondered, trying to see the pavilion through the windows.
Focused on those voices, and in the dusky gloom, she didn’t notice the man until she bumped into him. “Oh, pardon me.” she exclaimed, stepping back.
“Oh hello.” The tall and—Bea had to swallow and blink—extremely handsome man said smoothly. He had a resonating voice that softened every word and apparently turned Bea’s bones to pudding.
“Why aren’t you with the other guests, Mister Collins?” Bea asked. He was the handsome apothecary who’d mixed the ipecac that she’d helped Pippa to administer to her uncle. And now that her mission was over, she wondered how she could go about seeing the apothecary again.
Bea reached her hand out and he took it in his. His movements were oddly smooth. Unsettling her deeply in her stomach. He bent his fingers around hers, gently. His hands were smooth and well groomed, but veins and strength rippledunder his skin. The incongruity made Bea frown. She didn’t know what to make of him. He was too handsome for a member of the Ton, too muscular. Yet he looked most refined. Hadn’t he stood next to Nick in the ballroom?
He gave a polite kiss on the knuckle of her middle finger and then—did she imagine it?—he lingered. As if he’d wished to give a second kiss on the next knuckle, but he’d swallowed it, she saw his Adam’s apple bobbing as he straightened.
As he did so, she realized that he towered over her by a half foot.
Perfect to look into his teal eyes.
Bea blushed and glanced over her shoulder. Except, when she blinked toward the pavilion, heat rose to her face. Were Pippa and Nick doing the things that Violet had described?
“I think they have gone to the pavilion,” Bea mumbled more to herself than to the dashing apothecary standing but a foot from her. He seemed to have noticed the foggy windows of the pavilion and the flickering light inside from their position looking at it through the hall’s windows.
“Which pavilion?” Alfie asked with a quirked brow. Was he testing her?
Returning her focus to the handsome man, Bea realized she’d put both of her hands over her mouth after speaking the word—pavilion—aloud. After all, everyone in the Ton knew what…well, more or less—what happened in there. She didn’t exactly, but she knew well enough never to speak of it in front of a man.
Especially one as handsome as Alfie.
“What pavilion are you talking about?” the much too handsome stranger asked her, amusement flickering in his gaze. Her stomach jumped under his perusal. It was most unpleasant. Men shouldn’t be so pretty, so tall, so glowering. So manly.
Nick’s voice came from the direction of the pavilion and they both turned their heads.
“Where are they?” Alfie looked around the hall.
Bea felt heat rush to her head. “Oh—oh.”
“Oh—oh? Oh—oh what?”
“The pavilion is real.”
“Which pavilion?”
“That one. The Temple of Sin. And seduction.” Bea nodded in direction of the window from which it could be seen, windows even more fogged, and candlelight no longer flickering inside.
“I beg your pardon?” He gave a lopsided smile. Probably thinking her a complete dim wit.
“I think it’s over there.” She pointed to the white wooden door. “Pippa and Nick are inside.” She whispered and leaned toward the window…
*
Alfie couldn’t hidehis amusement, but he certainly tried to hide his attraction to the gorgeous woman. His black evening attire was too tight, especially the trousers. Except they hadn’t been this tight before. He rolled his eyes at himself. Why was he denying his body’s response and blaming it on his attire? The truth was it wasn’t too tight. No, this girl was too beautiful.
She had a shade of blond hair he’d never seen before. In the dim light of the hall outside the ballroom, it looked as though a hint of copper sparkled in her evenly straight hair, falling loosely into a large curl on the bottom.
Instinctively, he angled his arm and offered it to her.
She dropped her hands from her mouth and laid a dainty hand on his arm. “Haven’t you heard of this?” She came closer.
He’d heard of it, all right. The pavilion had mythical status in London!
