Page 11 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

“You ought to have.” Her voice was breathy, lending it a sensual air. “I…my stocking slipped.”

Yes, he had seen.

In fact, he truly had been about to announce his presence when he realized she didn’t mean to leave immediately after entering the room as he’d expected. He’d admired her a moment too long in the wash of moonlight, her sweet face almost rapturous as she savored exactly what he’d been seeking in coming here: blissful quiet.

And then she’d drawn up her skirts, revealing her slender leg, her skin flawless and luminescent in the glow of the moon, her ankle neat and her calf shapely. When she’d tied the delicate ribbon around her thigh, he could imagine nothing more than tugging it free with his teeth and letting his lips whisper over the delicate skin of her inner thighs.

His gaze flicked down to her legs, now covered by a heavy velvet skirt.

More’s the pity.

“Forgive me,” he said again. “I was not expecting…that.”

“What are you doing in here?” she asked.

“Relishing a reprieve,” he answered smoothly.

And truly he was, from the debutantes whose hungry eyes followed him around the room, from their mothers whose stares were even keener, more predatory, from witnessing how his grandmother went around to each of them in turn, offering them a whiff of his blood to officially begin their hunt.

“In the dark?” Lady Elizabeth frowned slightly, which made her lower lip pout out just so. “Were you hiding?” She pressed. “Or is it…?” Her words tapered off and she bit her plump bottom lip sheepishly.

How he wanted to free that lip with his thumb and press his mouth to hers, to see if she tasted as sweet as he suspected.

He’d always noticed her, the shy woman in the muted pastels who melted into the back of the room, trying to disappear. But a woman like her could never disappear, a woman whose large eyes were blue as the heart of the ocean, whose brown locks suggested they would feel like cool silk running through his fingers. Whose delicate innocence was apparent in every blush, every stammer.

A woman who was too good for the likes of him and he bloody well knew it.

“Or is it what?” He asked, eager for the distraction.

“Or is it that…” Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug, the shadows caressing the lines of her collarbones. “Is it that the darkness is quieter?”

While an odd thing to say, the statement was also entirely accurate. The dark did somehow feel quieter.

“Yes, I think you’re quite right,” he agreed.

“I know.” Her outburst almost startled him. “About your promise to your grandmother. There has been talk of little else tonight.”

“I wager she approached you and your friends?”

Lady Elizabeth’s answer was an apologetic smile, as though acknowledging how humiliating Bess’s behavior must have been for him.

“And you wish to throw your hat in the ring?” He asked, his tone intentionally light and flirtatious in the hopes of teasing out another pretty blush.

Instead, her wide blue eyes went wider still. “I would never presume, my lord.”

Ah, so that was the way of it. A polite rejection, as he well deserved. And yet he could not help but prod deeper. Perhaps the few glasses of scotch he’d nipped emboldened him, or perhaps her draw was too strong to ignore.

He stepped closer. “Your younger sister is soon to be engaged as I understand it, dependent, of course, on the wedding of her elder sister.”

She did not look demurely away as another woman might have, but looked him in the eye as she answered, “You are well informed, my lord.”

Desire stirred within him, encouraged by Lady Elizabeth’s boldness. He had not had the pleasure of engaging her in much conversation until this moment, and found he was rather enjoying himself.

“It appears I am not the only one in need of an engagement, Lady Elizabeth.” The words purred from his throat.

What was he doing goading this innocent? Letting his body ignite with longing for a woman he would never let himself have?

“I should return to the ballroom,” she said in reply, “lest I be missed.”