Page 19 of His Scandalous Lessons
“How so?”
“I recognize familiarity.” Miss Cecil shrugged. “And your hands tightened on me. I’m not imperceptive, sir.”
“No,” he said with a widening smile. “No, you’re not, Miss Cecil.”
“So you did remember.” Her smile was friendly. “I’m glad. Perhaps I’m not so hopeless after all, in the shadow of your lovely lady.”
The waltz ended. Richard bowed and pressed a brief kiss to the back of Miss Cecil’s hand. “I’m afraid I am not in the market for a bride. But any gentleman would be lucky to have you.”
She sighed as he escorted her in the direction of her chaperone. “This is what they tell me.”
“Who?”
Her smile was brief. “Everyone. Good luck with your lady, Mr. Grey. You may not be in the market for a bride, but you are no fool, I gather.” With a brief nod, she rejoined the older lady who was acting as her chaperone.
“No fool,” Richard murmured to himself, once again seeking out Anne. “I feel like the biggest bloody fool.”
Before he could intercept his target, the Earl of Montgomery strolled over to him with a glass of champagne in hand. “Who is that? Do you know her?”
Anne. Of course he was talking about Anne. Montgomery’s gaze made it exceedingly clear she had captured his interest. Richard couldn’t help the stirring of protectiveness, especially after the afternoon in the gazebo. He had kissed her. He had placed his mouth on her. He hadtastedher.
“She’s not for you,” he said tightly, before he thought better of it.
Montgomery’s smile was slow. “Claiming her for yourself?”
“Miss Sheffield is the Prime Minister’s daughter. No one ought toclaim herunless he intends to marry her.”
Montgomery didn’t seem deterred. “At this point, I could use any distraction from Miss Cecil.”
Richard thought of the innocent young girl he’d danced with. “What did she do, have the audacity to expect something from you?”
“Don’t look so bloody judgmental. I didn’t touch her. She thinks of me as some damn white knight.” He glanced at Anne. “I need a method of deterring her.”
“Listen to me,” Richard said, leaning in close. “Miss Sheffield isn’t your fucking method. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with our lovely hostess.”
Richard crossed the ballroom to intercept Caroline. She was in the middle of introducing Anne to yet another gentleman — the Marquess of Granby. Nowtherewas a man for her. A true gentleman, easy to handle, would defer to her desires. Rather boring, Richard supposed, but at least he wasn’t some reprobate like Montgomery.
Anne glanced at him, then settled her attention once more on Granby.Good. Let him think nothing else is worth noticing.
So why did Richard wish she would look at him again? Why did he count the minutes until they could meet in secret and he could have her to himself? So he could speak in frank language again, touch her skin, whisper words against her throat?
No. She is not for you,he reminded himself, for what seemed like the thousandth bloody time.
“Mr. Grey,” Caroline said, pulling him from his thoughts. “You remember Lord Granby? He was at my art exhibit this last Christmas.”
And the bloke liked art. Staid, boring. Perfect. Good for Anne.
Jolly fucking good.
Richard forced a smile. “I remember. Good to see you again.” He returned his attention to Caroline. “Your Grace, if I might have this dance?”
Anne gave Richard a calculating expression, which he chose to ignore. Let her converse with Granby. Anne was intelligent enough to understand that of the dozens of men here, Granby had the title, influence, money, and personality to be her best choice. And unlike Montgomery, he wasn’t likely to take up with a mistress after matrimony.
As Richard lead the duchess onto the dance floor, she murmured, “You seem agitated.”
“House parties agitate me.”
She made a noise as they started to dance. “You know what I mean. You’re brooding. Is it Anne?”
