Page 14 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
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Devona returned downstairs once the worst of Irene’s sickness had passed. She was still weak from vomiting, so she had wanted to lie down until she felt better. A child not much bigger than a thought had done in the paragon. Devona promised herself that she would purchase the new family member a very special gift since it had accomplished the impossible. She was free of yet another chaperone.
Devona slowly eased her way through the crowd, smiling and nodding to each familiar face, her eyes scanning for Lord Tipton. What was he doing here? She had been told he had little use for his title, and less still for society. It was too much to hope the man broke one of his rules just to see her. The thought gave her a very feminine thrill. After all, he had kissed her. Her practical side also reminded her that he had not made any attempt to contact her after his confrontation with Brock. What if the last thing Tipton wanted was to see her? Her heart skipped a few beats at the unpleasant thought. He might have already left the town house!
A hand shot out and stalled her before she could have broken into a run. “Whoa. You are going to break an ankle going at that pace.” Devona’s gaze shot up, shocked that she was so blind in purpose that she had almost dashed into Lord Nevin. Utterly mortifying! At twenty-eight, the handsome earl was reputed to cause the local ladies’ hearts to race, and she included herself in that group.
Extraordinarily tall, the blond giant smiled down at her; his aquamarine-colored eyes twinkled with amusement. The rogue knew his effect on women. She inhaled, a weak attempt to settle her nerves. The dimple in his left cheek deepened.
“Lord Nevin, you startled me.” She mentally kicked herself for sounding so dazed and breathless.
“Where were you off to?”
“I was, um, looking for someone.”
Gold-tipped brown lashes lowered seductively. “Dare I hope such energy was meant for me?”
Devona forgot to breathe. Before she had met Lord Tipton, she would have declared Lord Nevin the most handsome man this Season. Second place did not lessen his devastating effects on her constitution. The man spent most of his life chasing women, not that any of them were running particularly fast. For some reason she could not fathom, he had decided to include her in his little pursuit games this Season. She highly doubted that he was considering her for his future countess. Her papa would have pounced on such gossip. No, she had an awful feeling that it was her reckless nature that had caught his roving eye.
“No—yes—I’m—” It was getting worse by the minute. She should just shut her mouth and move in the opposite direction. “I thought I saw someone I knew.” Good, one coherent sentence out. Now leave!
“I spoke to your sister earlier. She gave me the impression you were lacking an escort for supper.” Lord Nevin had yet to let go of her hand. “I would be honored to take you.” He raised her gloved hand up to his lips. Twisting it palm up, he kissed, flicking the tip of his tongue across the open slit at her wrist.
Devona shivered. “Lord Nevin.”
“Miss Bedegrayne regrets she must refuse you,” Rayne drawled, behind them.
Taking advantage of Lord Nevin’s surprise, she snatched her hand from his loose grasp. “Lord Tipton, do you know Lord Nevin?”
“Not intimately.” Though Rayne’s voice seemed controlled, the look in his eyes was predatory.
Lord Nevin sized up his rival. Without taking his gaze off Rayne, he asked, “Miss Bedegrayne, perhaps you would like to cool yourself in the conservatory?”
She looked to each of the men, feeling the instant hostility radiate from both. She had enough problems trying to figure out how to help Doran without having two men fighting over her. She glanced around to see if her friend Oz Lockwood was about. He might be the one to defuse the situation. “I—”
Rayne clutched her elbow and guided her to his side. No one missed the proprietary gesture. “Miss Bedegrayne has kindly accepted my escort to supper. Is this not correct?” What his tone lacked in steel he made up for in his grasp.
Devona tried not to wince. “Yes, yes. My apologies, Lord Nevin. My sister was mistaken.”
A silent message passed between the two men. Finally, Lord Nevin nodded. “Another time, then, Miss Bedegrayne. Tipton.”
Rayne did not bother to wait for the man to depart. He steered Devona away, leading her to stairs that would take them to the refreshments.
Their partnering was drawing attention. She could feel everyone’s speculative stares, hear their indistinct murmurs. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Lord Nevin has become somewhat persistent this Season.” When they reached the stairs, she was glad he still held her arm, since her legs felt as wobbly as rubber.
“I would have thought your brother would recognize one of his kind and warned him off.”
“Brock does not like these functions. He says they are for scheming mamas and fortune hunters.”
Without a word he pushed her into an empty chair and wandered off to get her something to eat. As was the custom, he would stand by while she ate her supper. Later, he would partake in his own alone.
Rayne returned with a plate heaped with enough food for several large men. Handing her the plate, he leaned against the wall, keeping a glass of wine for himself.
“Perhaps we should call Lord Nevin back,” she suggested, eyeing the heavily laden plate dubiously.
