Page 7 of Enticing the Devil

“Who’ve you drawn?” Lily asked as she held her hand out for the paper.

As had happened for each pick before hers, the name would have to be read aloud and the partnership recorded by Lily’s sister, Emma Bentley, in order to make it official.

Anne handed Lily the name but couldn’t bring herself to glance back toward Mr. Thomas as their hostess read the name with a pleased smile.

There were a few quiet gasps and murmurs from some of the ladies nearby, which Anne intently ignored. What she couldn’t ignore, however, was Mr. Bentley as he stepped up beside her.

“Hello, Lady Anne.”

She turned to her friend’s charming brother-in-law and gave a quick smile. “Good evening, Mr. Bentley.”

There was a time not long ago when Mr. Bentley, as the owner of a scandalous gambling club, would have been an extremely inappropriate acquaintance for an unmarried young lady. But the man’s marriage to Emma Chadwick and his close association with the Earls of Wright and Harte had shifted society’s tide a bit in that regard. There was also the fact that after three years out, Anne simply didn’t care quite so much about that the ton deemed appropriate. Not that she’d ever do anything outright scandalous, but there were certain freedoms a young lady could claim once everyone decided she wasn’t worth such intent concerns.

“Allow me the privilege of introducing you to your game partner,” Bentley noted with a grin that seemed just a bit more delighted than the situation warranted. Stepping to the side, he gestured to the man beside him. “Lady Anne, I’d like you to meet my brother, Mr. Beynon Thomas.”

Doing her best to avoid looking directly into the Welshman’s hard, dark eyes, Lady Anne gave a nod in greeting and murmured, “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Mr. Thomas responded with a proper bow and gruffly uttered, “Lady Anne.”

Thankfully, the last unattached lady and gentleman were matched up and Lady Harte once again addressed her guests. “The schedule of games will be posted tomorrow morning in the breakfast room. The first event shall take place tomorrow afternoon. Good luck, everyone.”

As the small crowd began to disperse once again, Mr. Bentley flashed a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, it looks like my wife needs my assistance.” Without waiting for a response, the man turned and walked away, leaving Anne and Mr. Thomas to stand in stiff and awkward silence as they both seemed intent on looking anywhere but at each other.

Unfortunately, peripheral vision was more than competent when it came to Mr. Thomas.

Anne was quite tall by common standards at five feet, ten inches, but she noticed with a dose of unexpected discomfort that if she wished to meet her partner’s gaze, at this proximity, she’d have to tip her head back. It was not an experience she had very often, but it meant Mr. Thomas stood at least a few inches over six feet.

The man was undeniably large. And not at all in a portly way. His bulk appeared to be comprised of solid muscle. The combination of such obvious strength and exceptional height made her feel distinctly disadvantaged when standing so close to him.

Disadvantaged and vulnerable. And oddly...trembly.

As soon as she realized how intently she was considering his physical form, she forced herself to thaw her frozen tongue and make a little small talk. But as soon as she lifted her focus to his face, the dark displeasure in his broad features gave her a bit of a start.

The muscles along her spine tensed and she quickly lowered her gaze.

He’d worn the same fierce expression that morning in the garden. The man did not like her at all. Having never before inspired such animosity in anyone in her life, Anne was at a total loss on how to respond. Especially when she wasn’t sure what she’d done to earn such enmity.

They’d only had that one interaction in the garden. Unless he thought she’d eavesdropped in his encounter with Lady Mayhew on purpose?

“Lady Anne.” His rough baritone immediately brought her eyes back up to see him offering another bow of his head.

Then he turned and walked away.

Not just away. The man left the drawing room altogether. Leaving her standing rather conspicuously in the center of the room.

As she took a breath to steady herself after such a direct cut, Lily stepped up beside her.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” the kind woman whispered gently. “He’s just not accustomed to—”

“What? Employing basic manners?” The interruption came from Bethany Pinkman, another of Anne’s good friends. The three of them had gravitated toward each other during their debut season. Though each of them possessed very different personalities, they somehow managed to complement each other. “The man may be devastatingly attractive, but that cannot excuse such boorish behavior toward our dear friend.”

“Now, Bethany...” Lily began, but the other woman wasn’t finished.

“Can’t we pair our dear Anne up with someone else? Anyone other than the Welsh Devil himself?”

“Hush!” Lily firmly admonished, “You shouldn’t call him that.”

“Perhaps he shouldn’t behave in a way that supports such a moniker,” Bethany retorted. “Did you know he did not ask a single young lady to dance all season, though he attended no less than five balls? His manner is practically hostile whenever anyone attempts to engage him in a bit of light conversation and he seems to make a point of glowering intently at any female who dares to come within a few steps of him.”

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