Simply Wicked. Kate Pearce

Simply Wicked - Kate  Pearce


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her hand in his and walked toward the dance floor. She curtsied gracefully and he inclined his head as the first strains of the old-fashioned country dance emerged. The dance was slow and stately and involved separating on every other measure. He wondered what it would feel like to have her fragile body in his arms, to swirl her around the floor held against him.

      “My lord?”

      “What?”

      With a start he looked down into her eyes. What the hell was wrong with him, fantasizing about a woman?

      “You are not attending to your steps. I’ve had to push you the right way twice now.”

      He circled her three times and then bowed, watched as she did the same. “I think I’ve forgotten the steps. Do you want to sit down?”

      She gave him a frown. “Non, we would disrupt the set. Just concentrate.”

      He did his best, hid his amusement at her ordering him around as if he were her brother and managed to make it to the end of the dance.

      “Next time we’ll try something more lively.”

      He bore her off toward the refreshment room, ignoring the occasional startled glance from one of his old cronies.

      “I didn’t say I’d dance with you again.”

      “But you will. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

      His mother loved to dance and had patiently taught him the steps herself when he was a child. He glanced impatiently around the crowded room. Was she there yet?

      “Anthony?”

      He turned to find his older brother and Peter Howard at his elbow. Valentin looked very fine in black, and Peter wore blue and gray.

      “Good evening.”

      Val continued to stare at him. “You’re at a ball.”

      “I am.”

      “And yet, as far as I can tell, you’re neither foxed nor insane.”

      Anthony scowled. “I’m also escorting a lady of my acquaintance, so please mind your manners.” He touched Marguerite’s arm. “Lady Justin Lockwood, may I present my older brother, the Earl of Landsdowne, and his business partner, Mr. Peter Howard?”

      Valentin held out his hand, his smile pained, and kissed Marguerite’s extended fingers. “Lord Valentin Sokorvsky will do perfectly well; you know I don’t use that title, Anthony.”

      Peter Howard laughed. “And I have no title to speak of, so you’ll probably remember me just fine.”

      “My brother and Peter run a shipping business together. I used to think I had a job there, but apparently I’m not up to scratch.”

      Val opened his mouth, but Peter got in first. “I wouldn’t say that, although you have been a little distracted recently.” He smiled at Marguerite. “It is, however, a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. You look familiar. Have we met before?”

      “I doubt it,” Anthony said. “The lady has only recently emerged from mourning her late husband.”

      “How did you meet her, then?” Valentin said.

      Anthony winced as Marguerite pinched his arm and smiled up at him before answering for herself. “Through mutual friends. Lord Anthony was kind enough to offer to escort me to a few functions, so that I can find my feet again.”

      Val bowed. “And I’m sure he’ll be the perfect gentleman, won’t you?” He nodded cordially at Marguerite. “When I find my wife, I’ll bring her over to meet you. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to make your acquaintance.”

      “Thank you, my lord.”

      To Marguerite’s amusement, Anthony continued to frown until Peter and his brother disappeared into the crowd. It seemed that Anthony’s family was as good at speaking their minds as hers. She nudged his arm.

      “You don’t really have a ‘job,’ do you?”

      Anthony looked down at her. “Why shouldn’t I?”

      “Because you have all this.” She made a wide gesture of the room. “You are an aristocrat.”

      “So is Valentin, and he’s the one who started a shipping company with Mr. Howard.”

      “Really? How fascinating.”

      He led her toward the buffet table and, without asking what she wanted, started loading food onto two plates.

      “And you have worked there as well?”

      He found a small table and plonked both of the plates down on it.

      “For the last few years since I was sent down from Oxford. My father thought I was just going through a rebellious stage, but I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.”

      He glanced across at her, his blue eyes full of challenge. “Do I look too stupid to actually work for my living, like some overbred pedigree lap dog?”

      She sensed the hurt behind his words and met his gaze without flinching. “Not at all. It is always refreshing to meet a man with a mind of his own, a man not content with living his life in a way that doesn’t sit well with him.”

      His smile warmed her and he leaned closer. “That’s exactly it. The job gave me a purpose when many of my contemporaries were too busy gambling, whoring and drinking away their allowances to think about their future. And I needed that steadying influence—” He abruptly stopped talking and stared into space. Marguerite held her breath, wondering what he would do next.

      “Anyway, it seems I haven’t been paying enough attention to my job recently, and Valentin thinks I should give it up and concentrate on being a man about town.”

      “What an unusual older brother you have.”

      Anthony’s smile was guarded. “Indeed, much like the twins. Both of our families are trying to turn us into social butterflies when I suspect that, at heart, neither one of us truly wants to be here.”

      She reached across the table to touch his hand and felt his start of surprise before he enclosed her fingers in his.

      “Actually, I am quite enjoying myself.”

      He squeezed her fingers. “I am too, but I suspect that is because I’m with you and not some simpering seventeen-year-old debutante.”

      Marguerite laughed and then looked up as a shadow fell across the table.

      “Anthony, is that you? Valentin said I’d find you here, but I could scarcely believe it.”

      An older woman stared at her companion, both hands clasped to her breast. Anthony stood up, bringing Marguerite with him.

      “Mama, may I present Lady Justin Lockwood?”

      The woman stared at Marguerite as if she’d grown another head and then blushed. “Oh, a thousand apologies for my rudeness, I’m just so surprised to see Anthony here with you!”

      Marguerite curtsied. “Your son has been very kind to me, ma’am.”

      “Oh, I’m sure he has. He can be quite charming when he wants to be.”

      “Mama…” Anthony sighed, and his mother patted his arm.

      “I won’t interrupt your evening any longer, my dears, but Lady Justin, please come and visit me at home one morning this week. I’d be delighted to see you again.”

      Marguerite sat back down and waited until Anthony had kissed his mother’s cheek, submitted to a kiss in return and waved her off with a smile. When he sat, she studied him for a long moment.

      “Why is your appearance here so startling that everyone we meet has to comment on it?”

      He shifted restlessly in his seat. “Because I’ve avoided


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