Page 21 of Duke of Wickedness
A grin spread across Ariadne’s face.
Oh, yes. This would be very, very interesting indeed.
CHAPTER 5
“David! I’m so glad you could make it.”
Catherine crossed to him and clasped his hand warmly in both of hers, smiling brightly. The Duchess of Seaton was a born hostess; she’d taken the energy she had once dedicated to being the consummate Society miss and had transformed it into being a masterful hostess, though not necessarily one that followed every Society rule to the letter.
Still, she was well within the constraints of what thetonwould accept from a married lady—let alone a duchess who was connected to the Lightholder family—and therefore her entertainments were far afield of the kind of party that David tended to organize himself.
David still always attended, because watching Percy pretend to enjoy parties for the sole purpose of appeasing his wife was one of the greatest joys that he had yet to discover.
Insofar as one counted things that could be done with all of one’s clothes firmly in place, at least.
“Of course,” he said, smiling. “I would never miss one of your parties, Catherine.”
“Because you live to bedevil Percy,” she said, her hostess smile not budging an inch.
“It’s very important to have hobbies,” he said. “Keeps a man young.”
“Oh, yes,” she said with an air that he felt was unfairly maternal, given that he was older than she was, “I’mcertainthat bothering my husband is the most chaos you like to make for yourself.”
He gave her his most innocent expression, which only made her laugh.
“Go off to bother Percy, then,” she said, shooing him away. “I have guests to greet.”
Agreeably, David went off—not because she’d told him to, necessarily, but because bothering Percy was a personal passion of his.
He was distracted, however, by the arrival of a far more interesting—and far more recent passion.
Ariadne Lightholder was here.
Admittedly, thismayhave been one of the reasons that David had been particularly excited to come this evening. He could annoy Percy any day.
But it was a rare treat to get under the skin of Lady Ariadne.
He loitered near the entrance to the parlor where he knew, from his frequent visits to the house, they would begin with drinks before moving in to dinner. Catherine didn’t follow strict rules about hierarchical seating at dinner—a tiny rebellion against rules about which she was adorably proud—so, if David played his cards right, he might get himself close to Lady Ariadne for the entirety of their meal.
It was the most deliciously intriguing proposition.
He saw the moment she felt his eyes upon her. Her shoulders stiffened just the tiniest bit, and she angled herself halfway toward him, though she didn’t turn all the way before she resumed her conversation with Catherine and the Duke and Duchess of Godwin, with whom she’d come in.
He watched and waited, curious to see what she would do. He wasn’t going to pressure her, obviously; the foremost quality he needed in a partner, whether in a flirtation or more, was their willingness, openly given. He did not want Ariadne if she did not want him back.
But the eagerness with which she’d responded to his kiss—that hadn’t been a lie. That hadn’t been coerced. They had been on her terrain, and he’d given her every opportunity to withdraw.
But she was curious. And if willingness was what he needed before pursuing someone, thencuriositywas the thing that set him aflame.
But her move came next. He waited and watched, watched and waited.
And it didn’t take her very long at all to make a move.
When the guests—perhaps a dozen, all told—had all arrived, and Catherine began ushering them all toward the parlor, Lady Ariadne came up to him, plain as day. She wore a placid, proper expression—to the untrained eye, she was just a young lady chatting pleasantly with a gentleman at a friendly dinner party.
But he was already becoming an expert, where she was concerned. And her eyes sparked with something more.
Temper. Irritation. Excitement. Amusement.
