Page 39 of Scandal’s Daughter

“Oh, no,” he tsked and shook his head. “For then I might wake, and what a pity. For you see, I am remembering a summer night when I was a very small boy.”

She turned a little further to face him directly, intrigued now. He smiled at her, a warm and inviting smile that she imagined had tugged at a good many hearts. “I had crept out of bed and gone to my father’s orangery. I had gone to see if any were ripe.”

“And were they?” she asked, quite unable to resist returning his smile which was as infectious as it was delightful.

“Alas no,” he replied with a mournful expression. “But it was warm and the scent ...” He closed his eyes and leaned a little closer to her, and when he spoke again, the words seemed to shiver over her skin. “The scent was decadent, as sweet and heavy as opium and I slept the whole night there like a babe, dreaming such wonderful dreams.” She looked up to see him watching her, and his eyes darkened in the most alluring manner. “The scent of you makes me want to never wake again.”

She swallowed, aware she was in the hands of a sophisticated lover and very far out of her depth. To her relief he saved her from any further form of reply.

“Shall we mingle and see who can amuse us tonight?”

“No.” The deep masculine voice was implacable, and Georgiana looked around to see Lord Falmouth glaring at the marquess.

“Falmouth.” The marquess inclined his head just a little in greeting. “A pleasure to see you this evening. I was just asking Miss Bomford to take a turn about the room with me.”

“Oh, Alex, do let ‘er. Beau is such fun, hein?”

The marquess’s lips twitched a little as Lady Falmouth came to his defence. “Lady Falmouth, may I say how very lovely you look this evening.”

“You may,” Céleste replied, a naughty twinkle glinting in her eyes and Georgiana realised she was only too well aware of the glowering fury of her husband’s obvious jealousy. “Now then, run along, children,” Céleste said, making a shooing motion as if she was some elderly dame. “And, Beau, behave yourself. I’m watching you.” She pointed her fan at him in a threatening manner though there was laughter in her eyes. As they turned to walk away Georgiana heard her breathless laughter as she turned to her husband.

“Oh, darling, Alex, how can you be so silly when you know I adore only you.”

Georgiana sighed and wondered if she would ever be lucky enough to be granted a wish as great as that one appeared to be, to love and be loved, with no lies, no pretences and no games.

“They are a lucky pair, aren’t they?” She looked up at Beau in surprise, to find his face quite open and free of what she had begun to see was his usual playful flirtatiousness. “What?” he asked her. “You think I can’t see it too? You think I can’t wonder what life would be like if I made such a match?”

He paused, his eyes on hers very intent.

“Do you?” she asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t answer and they began to weave in and out of the crowd as he nodded to acquaintances in passing. “I used to read of you every week you know,” she said, smiling as she saw him regard her with amusement.

“Ah,” he said, with a sorrowful shake of his head. “My reputation precedes me.”

“It does indeed,” she agreed, as she noticed two women staring at them with obvious jealousy and spite on their painted faces. “In fact, I became quite concerned after you disappeared to Scotland for such a time.”

A low masculine chuckle of amusement rumbled beside her and she couldn’t help but smile in return. There was something quite irrepressible about him and she could quite understand why women dropped at his feet.

“I am honoured to have stirred such pity in your breast.”

“You did,” she said, smirking. “Though I began to fear you weren’t half the rake I’d believed you to be when you stayed away for so long. I thought perhaps you’d ... lost your nerve.”

She laughed at his expression and then shook her head, fascinated to watch how his eyes dropped from her eyes to her mouth and then to the little curl that had come to nestle in her décolletage. There was certainly hunger in his gaze and it soothed her bruised heart a little to know that she was desirable.

“Now I know how Eve felt standing beneath that apple tree,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off the curl. “I have the most desperate desire to reach out and give that little curl a tug.”

“But you won’t,” she said watching as he raised his eyes back to hers with obvious reluctance.

He pursed his lips as if giving the matter grave thought. “Not ... this time,” he replied. Settling her hand back on his arm they continued their survey of the room.

“I suppose I must relinquish you back to Falmouth. For now, ...” he added with a wink. They walked a little further in silence before he paused and turned back to her. “Do you know, I had a lot of time to think when I was in Scotland.” He gave a self-deprecating smirk. “Believe me, it is usually a pastime I avoid at all costs, but ...”

She raised her eyebrows at him, a little uneasy at the look in his eyes. “But?”

“But what would you think if I said I was considering mending my ways and settling down?”

She suppressed a smile and gave him a sympathetic look. “I would say your creditors are shouting rather louder than usual, my lord.”

He gave a shout of laughter and looked back at her in delight. “Yes, you would say that wouldn’t you.” But then he covered her hand with his own and his face grew serious. “And I must marry for money, it is quite true. But it never occurred to me before tonight that ... that it could perhaps be more than that.”

She caught her breath, unable to say more as Lord Falmouth’s disapproving presence loomed over them. Beau raised her hand and kissed the fingers, a warm look in his eyes.

“Good evening, Miss Bomford. It has been a great pleasure, and one I intend to repeat very soon.” He nodded to Lord Falmouth, said goodbye to Céleste and left them alone.