Page 6 of Souvenir of Love

“Lady Elizabeth, I am not a dog. I do not fetch.”

“Dear Lord Dinsmore, my throat is as parched as the Gobi Desert. I fear if I do not find refreshment I shall fall into a swoon.”

“We cannot have that, Lady Elizabeth.” He turned a smile upon her that had encouraged numerous ladies to unlace their corsets. “Just think of how it would further slow the progress of the dance. Good gracious, we might be forced to provide breakfast for all these people.”

“You’re incorrigible.” She laughed.

“Indeed, I am,” he said as he reached for her hand. “I am a man without heart, without scruples, and unlikely to change.”So don’t trust me for a moment.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, slipping her slender fingers into his.

“You should,” he said softly.

She shook her head.

“Would you believe, then, that I have a chilled bottle of champagne, tucked amongst the tomes of the library?”

“I would.” Embers of mischief glowed in her eyes. “Though I might wonder if it had been placed there solely formypleasure.”

“It might have been…” He tucked her arm in his and drew her away from the dance.

“There you see,” she said triumphantly, “if you were completely heartless, you would have said, ‘Yes, of course, my darling Elizabeth, that wine is meant for your rosy lips, and yours alone.’”

Her lipsdid resemble the curved petals of a rose. “I would never be so trite.”

“And you should say that the sparkle of the wine is surpassed only by the sparkle of my eyes…”

“Good Lord, Elizabeth, you’ve either been reading far too much romantic poetry, or listening to far too many young men with limited imaginations.”

“The latter,” she said firmly, looking at him with eyes that did, indeed, surpass the sparkle of the finest wine.

He led her through the double doors of the ballroom into a crowded corridor. “Though many still consideryoua young man, James Dinsmore, even at the ripe old age of twenty-seven.”

“It is not how many years you have, my dear,” he said as he guided her past the clusters of guests, “but how you have chosen to spend them.”

As they continued down the hall, the crowds thinned, until there were only a few clusters here and there engaged in conversation. James led Elizabeth down another hall, lit by a few flickering sconces. He paused at a paneled door of rich mahogany, his hand on the brass knob.

“Elizabeth?” He turned the knob and swung the door open. She entered, her skirts rustling against him. He stood for a moment, watching her as she explored the room, her fingers trailing against the spines of the shelved books.

And then he slid a ribbon from the bottom of his braided queue, draped it over the outside knob, and quietly closed the door.

Three

Blue velvet curtains trimmed in gold braid were drawn across the long windows, and in the soft light of the candelabra on the mantel, the library seemed like a flowery cave. There was, indeed, a bottle of champagne perspiring in a silver bucket, and twin goblets on the floor next to the rose-colored fainting couch. Elizabeth was gazing at the books that filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves.

“Magnificent,” she breathed.

Magnificent, he knew he should respond, and then begin the seduction Anne demanded.Magnificent, the word he needed came easily to mind. “You enjoy reading?” he asked instead.

“Does that surprise you?” She turned to him with a beguiling smile. “The notion that there is more in my head than the latest fashions and the current dance steps?”

“I suspect that even if I should know you for a hundred years, Elizabeth Harcrest, I would still discover things about you that surprised me.”

“Very good,” she said, returning her attention to the shelves. “Most men seem to think women are simple creatures and believe they understand everything there is to know about us.”

“Like your brother?”

“Like my brother,” she chuckled, “until he fell in love with Alix. Now he knows better.”