Page 18 of When Dashing Met Danger

“Would it be any different if I married another man or became a spinster? At least a married woman has some freedom, and Dandridge and I get along very well when I keep my temper in check and mind what I say.”

“Lucia!” Francesca’s jaw dropped. “You know you can’t keep that up forever. Do you want to live your whole life playing a part? Some men are always going to be threatened by your spirit, but there are men who’ll appreciate it, too.”

“I have yet to find one.” She held up her hand as Francesca opened her mouth again, probably to make suggestions. “In any case, I can’t break the engagement. Father would surely disown me.”

“He would not,” Francesca said firmly.

Lucia sighed, looked away. Her sister huffed, grumbled, and gave in. “Well, he might be a little angry at first,” she admitted. “But you could always live with Ethan and me.”

“And ruin all the good graces you’ve brought to the Winterbourne name?” Lucia shook her head. “No. For once I’m going to do what’s expected of me.”

No matter how much she despised it.

Chapter Seven

“The Right Honorable Viscount Dandridge and the Honorable Miss Dashing.”

Alex grit his teeth at the butler’s announcement. He turned slowly, muzzling his temper until he could vent it, and saw Lucia and her pompous fiancé greeting the widowed Mrs. Seaton, her daughter, and her son. The drawing room in the Seatons’ town house on Davies Street had just become much too crowded.

Alex scowled. What the devil was Lucia doing here? Like the rest of the ladies and gentlemen privileged enough to belong to the upper echelons of the ton, she should have been on her way to the Duke of York’s ball.

Ah, but there would be no way to interfere in his investigation of her brother’s absence at the duke’s ball. Here she could find an infinite number of opportunities to get in the way. With mounting irritation, Alex saw she was already at work, engaging her brother’s friend, William Seaton, in conversation as soon as Dandridge left her side. Alex would put a stop to this right now. She and that buffoon Dandridge could turn right around and be on their way to the duke’s.

Lucia’s discussion with their host was brief, and Alex intercepted her at the far end of the drawing room the Seatons had converted into a ballroom for the evening.

“Lord Sel—”

He slashed her a look and, taking her arm, barreled through the guests. He spotted a semiprivate alcove at the far end of the room, where the refreshments had been squeezed in, and tugged her toward it.

“Lord Selbourne!” she hissed and tried to pull away.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He thrust her into the alcove, then caught her elbow and spun her to face him.

“Unhand me, sir, or I shall—”

“Stubble it, Lucia,” he growled, but he released her. “I don’t have the patience tonight.”

Her eyes were beginning to resemble those Yorkshire storm clouds again, and Alex fully expected one of her scathing rejoinders, but instead she straightened, met his gaze, and . . . smiled? Alex’s senses went on alert.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” he repeated.

“I was thirsty.” Her voice had more sugar in it than one of Gunther’s ices. “I was about to get a glass of ratafia.”

“Well you can bloody well get it at the duke’s.”

“Oh, but I can’t!” she replied, all wide-eyed innocence. “It would be in very bad taste to leave so soon after arriving.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

Alex clenched his hands to keep them from curling around her skinny neck. Lucia was about as sweet as King George was sane. “I know what you’re doing. And you might fool your parents or fiancé, but you don’t fool me.”

She flicked her fan open and waved it lazily. “I’m sure I don’t take your meaning.”

He leaned closer. “Save the playacting for Drury Lane. It’s wasted on me.” But he had to admit that she was putting on a pretty good performance, not that it surprised him. He imagined she’d had years to perfect it.

Still in character, she tossed her curls. “Your incivility is really quite tedious, Lord Selbourne.” Her tone exuded weariness, but he saw the storm clouds flash in her eyes, and a surge of lightning bolted through him. He kept forgetting her beauty—not that she was beautiful, but that she was so achingly beautiful.

Last night it had been too dark to see her clearly, but this morning, with the sun streaming through the breakfast room bathing her in golden light, she’d been glorious. By the light of the moon, her hair had shone pale blond, almost silver, but in the morning sunshine it gleamed like spun gold.

But it was her eyes that drew him. They were the darkest blue he’d ever seen. The same blue as the ocean at the point where the safe shallow waters ended and the sandy floor plunged downward into the unknown. She would have been beautiful without those eyes, but with them she was exquisite— exotic, untamed. A man couldn’t help but look twice. And though he knew her to be young and innocent, one look from those eyes—wide with just a slight tilt at the corners—was a full-blown seduction. How could he have forgotten how tempting she was in the space of only a few hours?

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