Page 6 of Seducing a Frigid Lady
“Forgive me, my lady, I do not believe we have been properly introduced,” Lionel said, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Miss Lloyd, half-expecting to see her look their way, the glint of jealousy in her gaze. Yet there was none and there was no glance, not even a twitch, to suggest that she had even heard their conversation beginning.
You are not the centre of the universe,Lionel reminded himself. It was not something that he usually felt the need to say to himself. He was never usually quite so self-aware, simply going with the flow and flirting with whomever it felt right. He was no stranger to offering a woman his attentions and yet the attention that he was offering to Miss Lloyd, how unrequited it was, felt entirely off. And that intrigued him all the more.
“I am Lady Caroline Montgomery, my lord,” the blonde woman announced with an ever-growing smile, as though she was greatly pleased that he had been interested enough to learn her name.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Caroline,” Lionel said, barely able to tear his gaze away from the corner of his eye to offer the woman his full attention once more. He was a gentleman and he would settle for nothing less.
Yet even as he entered into a polite and good-humoured conversation with Lady Caroline, he could not help but feel the lady sitting beside him. The cold shoulder she was giving him was entirely uncalled for, but if her intentions for giving it were to get his attention, to drive him wild with the desire to talk to her more, it had most definitely worked.
By the time that dinner was over, Lionel was feeling so off kilter that for once he was glad when the ladies retired to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to drink and play cards and talk business before the real socialising began.
“Are you and your cousin going to join us, Mr. Parr?” Lord Marsham asked from the head of the table even as several of the gentleman moved to his end, the butler handing the viscount a packet of cards. A second later he was handed a clay pipe, the smell of tobacco beginning to fill the air.
“I find I am not really one for playing cards, Lord Marsham, though I will happily give up my seat and watch from the sidelines,” Max announced, pushing himself up from his seat almost a moment before a servant could come rushing forward to help him move it backwards.
For once, Lionel was glad of his cousin’s reluctance to gamble and play cards. It gave him the necessary moment that he felt he needed in order to get some answers to the questions that had been piling up in his mind all evening.
“What about you, Lord Sinclair?” Lord Marsham asked, turning expectantly to him. Lionel, who had begun to rise from his own seat, paused and looked at his host. Lord Marsham was a portly fellow with a whisky nose and a kind smile.
And Lionel could imagine that on a normal day he would have shared great joy in winning the viscount’s money. But today he had far too much on his mind to concentrate on the game and so he shook his head.
“I do not believe that my head would be in the game this evening, my lord,” he announced with a polite smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I am quite tired from my day’s journey and simply wish to relax.”
The viscount scoffed at that and several of the other gentlemen around him did the same, one muttering about how the youth of the day was not as robust as they had once been in their prime.
“I would not think that we could ever match up to the likes of you, my lord,” Lionel said charmingly, using the distraction of their getting into their game to move to the edge of the room and join his cousin, only pretending to watch what was going on at the table.
“Is all well, cousin?” Max asked almost the moment that he stepped up beside him with his wineglass in hand. “It is not like you to give up a go at cards.”
Lionel smiled and made a slight attempt to look tired, taking a swig of his drink before he replied, “I am certain there will be plenty of time for cards this Season, what with my staying with you and all.”
Max scowled back at him silently, shaking his head before he reminded him, “You know, I loathe gambling.”
“Then I am sure we can play simply for the fun of it,” Lionel assured him, clapping his cousin on the back in a brotherly gesture. “Just as we always used to do when we were children.”
“Hmm… perhaps that is why I no longer like to play cards,” Max scoffed. “You always were a cheat.”
Lionel feigned offence, gripping his hand to his chest and opening his mouth agape. “How dare you? I have never once in my life tried to cheat you or anyone else, for that matter.”
Together, the two men laughed, knowing that wasn’t entirely true, though any cheating he had ever done had always been entirely in jest.
“Be careful, you two,” one of the men at the table warned over his shoulder. “If you stand at the edge of the room talking like that, we might begin to believe that you ought to have gone with the women.”
At that, Lionel and Max laughed. He had to admit that it did feel slightly as though he was bordering on the edge of gossiping. In fact, he could not help but whisper to his cousin, “What do you know of Miss Lloyd?”
Just before his cousin could respond, he added in the direction of the table, “Careful, Lord Melton, or you might find the others accusing you of cheating via distraction.”
The laughter of before grew louder, offering Lionel the opportunity to turn his full attention to his cousin as the gentlemen started to play and laugh and make merry without any more convincing from him.
When he did turn to look at his cousin, he found the brown-haired, pale-faced gentleman looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a question upon his lips.
“Go on, say it,” Lionel sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Of all the ladies in the room tonight, you picked the Ice Queen,” Max stated, almost sounding as dumbfounded as Lionel had felt when he had realised just how damn attracted he was to the lady who had sat to his left during dinner.
“I find her… intriguing,” Lionel explained with a shrug of his shoulders, trying his hardest to appear nonchalant though the truth was he was beginning to grow impatient. All he truly wanted was to know more about her, and he had gleaned so little from his short snippets of conversation with her all evening.
“That is indeed one word for Miss Lloyd,” Max replied with a deep sigh. “Do not take me for a fool. I can see how beautiful she is, though she does herself no favours.”
