Page 27 of The Duelist for the Ton
Portia’s partner dipped his head in acknowledgment. “You are most kind, countess.”
Their hostess offered her hand. “I find myself disappointed that dear Angela was not with you tonight. I trust she is well.”
A spike of jealousy stabbed at Portia’s heart. Was he courting another?
The colonel took the countess’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “My sister is not ready for a public occasion just yet.”
Hissister…
Portia drew in a sharp breath, then felt her cheeks warming as Earl Thorpe fixed his gaze on her, a flicker of knowing in his eyes.
How was it that some men were able to penetrate a woman’s defenses with a single glance? Portia would have called the earl the most formidable man in the room—were it not for the presence of her brother, who always seemed to be in theperiphery of her vision, watching her with his disapproving sapphire gaze.
“I trust you’re not hiding Angela from the world, colonel,” Henrietta said. “A wide-eyed young woman’s behavior must be tempered, of course, for her own safety, but she will chafe under too much restraint. You are at least permitting her to venture outside?”
“I’ve taken her to Hyde Park,” he said, his expression softening with brotherly love. “She was particularly fond of the swans, and I plan to take her again.”
“Excellent! I cannot abide the notion of an older brother behaving as if he were his sister’s gaoler,” Henrietta said, glancing in Portia’s direction. “You could have brought her here tonight, for my balls are hardlypublicoccasions. Though, I admit, there are one or two guests among the party whom I invited merely for the sake of appearance than out of friendship.” She exchanged a glance with Portia then fixed her gaze on the figure of Sir Heath Moss, who was escorting Lady Cholmondeley-Walker toward the terrace.
“Henrietta…” the earl warned, and she let out a snort.
“Pshaw, Giles!” she said. “I’ll be polite to the face of those I dislike to maintain propriety, but you cannot expect me to speak dishonestly when among friends.” She gave a warm smile. “Colonel, you must take supper with us some time and bring your sister. I’ll not countenance any response other than your acceptance.”
“Then it will be my pleasure to give it, on behalf of us both.”
“Excellent!” she cried. “Now, please excuse us.”
Their hosts continued circulating around the ballroom, and the colonel let out a sigh.
“Henrietta’s a formidable woman,” Portia said. “I pity anyone who dares say no to her.”
“She’s been very kind toward my sister.”
Portia sighed. “I’d have liked to have a sister. But I have been cursed with an overbearing older brother.”
“He loves you, I am sure, Lady Portia,” he replied. “An older brother will always wish to protect his sister, even if he must assert himself when that sister is spirited and headstrong.”
“Is your sister a troublesome charge?”
He shook his head, and a gentle smile curved his lips. His eyes softened to the color of warm chocolate, and a little pulse of yearning fluttered in her center at the love in them.
“Perhaps a little headstrong,” he said. “She has yet to lose the youthful enthusiasm for everything. I fear that I should caution her more.”
“You fear for her?”
“London’s no place for an innocent.”
“But she has a loving brother to keep her safe,” Portia said. “I envy her in that.”
“You have a brother.”
“But he’s notyou, colonel.”
A spark of desire flickered in the depths of his eyes.
“You do not act in the manner expected of a woman of your rank, Lady Portia,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice.
“In that I am not a… What did you call it?” She cocked her head to one side and lifted her forefinger to her chin, frowning in mock confusion. “Oh yes, that was it—ahaughty miss who cares nothing for others.”
