Page 50 of An Extraordinary Lord

The rooms unfolded like a maze, each more elaborate and fantastical than the next.

Veronica moved her gaze around the enormous green drawing room that had been decorated to resemble a forest. A tall fountain done up like a waterfall spilled dark-blue water into a shallow stream that circled the edges of the room and was filled with large goldfish and floating candles. Her lips parted incredulously. Goldfish…Good heavens. Where did one find that many goldfish in London? How did one even think of that idea in the first place? But as her gaze followed the stream around the room, she knew it was simply the most marvelous thing she’d ever—

Merritt.Her eyes landed on him in the crowd, and the sight of him took her breath away.

Standing straight and tall beneath the glow of the chandeliers, every inch of him revealed the regimented former soldier he’d once been and the respected barrister he’d become, from his broad shoulders beneath the black kerseymere jacket all the way down to the polished shine of his shoes. She was certain he’d carefully chosen every piece of his finery tonight to emphasize his place in London society…the dark-blue silk waistcoat that matched his eyes, the ruby pin in his snow-white cravat, the white breeches that tightly hugged his muscular thighs. Only his dark-brown hair, left in an unruly mess of thick waves, hinted at the rebel beneath the façade.

God have mercy. She’d never seen him look more powerful and confident, not even when he’d been wielding a sword. The sight of him nearly undid her.

But it was his smile that captivated her, that easy grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he laughed at something said by one of the men with him.

When he saw her, he froze. Only for a heartbeat’s pause, yet long enough that their gazes locked. This time when a smile curled his lips, she knew it was for her and her alone, and an ache of longing corkscrewed itself deep into her core.

This is only a dream.She pulled in a deep breath to calm her spiking pulse as his gaze dropped over her to slowly assess how her satin gown draped over her body, how her hair was pinned in a riot of misbehaving curls on her crown. His smile deepened.Tonight isn’t real.A low heat began to simmer in her belly, and he prickled goose bumps across her bare skin everywhere he looked.Only a dream…

Please, God, don’t let me wake up!

His eyes never left her as Claudia led her through the crowd toward him and the small group of friends gathered around him. She barely heard Claudia introduce her to her brother, Marcus, Duke of Hampton, to his wife, Danielle, and to the Earl of Sandhurst and his countess, because with every thumping heartbeat, she was aware only of the heat of Merritt’s gaze on her as he waited patiently to claim her for the evening as his guest.

When he finally did, taking her hand and bowing over it, she wasn’t prepared for the tingle in her fingertips that spread up her arm and landed heavily in her breasts.

“Miss Chase.” His deep voice fluttered through her. “You look absolutely enchanting this evening.”

His words were merely empty flattery in front of his friends. Her head knew that, yet her foolish heart yearned for it to mean so much more.

“And where is the judge?” Claudia craned her neck to search through the crush. “I want to introduce Miss Chase to your father.”

Veronica’s knees turned to jelly. She wasn’t at all prepared for that!

“Father’s here, but he’s lost somewhere in the party,” Merritt explained. “The last I saw of him, he was cornering the Duke of Chatham into making a donation to the Foundling Hospital. We’ll have to make introductions later.”

She eased out a silent sigh.Thank God.More nervousness percolated inside her at the thought of meeting his father than it had at meeting the duke and earl.

“Good, you’ve got champagne.” The duchess nodded at Veronica’s glass. “We can make toasts.” She held up her own flute and explained, “Tonight, while the rest of the party is celebrating the Lithuanian contingent, we’re celebrating something even better.”

“And what is that, Your Grace?”

The duchess beamed. “Merritt has been named King’s Counsel!”

Merritt dropped his gaze to his glass and said nothing as he watched the bubbles escape to the surface.

“You have?” Veronica’s chest warmed with genuine happiness for him, even if the news only widened the chasm between them. “That’s wonderful.”

His gaze raised solemnly to meet hers. “Is it?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Doubtful.”

“Not at all.”

“A mistake.”

She lifted her glass to toast him. “Well deserved.”

He smiled faintly, surrendering the argument although obviously not at all convinced.

Suddenly, she was aware of everyone’s curious stares moving back and forth between her and Merritt, as if they were watching two actors onstage. She quickly took a sip of champagne to cover her self-consciousness, although she supposed tonight they were exactly that—two people playing out their parts.