Page 53 of A Lady of Means
He felt Moria reach out for the other woman’s arm, the cage her skirts made around him swaying in her direction.
“No!”she sounded frantic then gentled her voice, “I mean,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, “I think I might have…misplaced him?”
The young woman scoffed.“I don’t see how.He seemed rather besotted.How you get both the dandy and pretty ones and the big and burly ones on their knees for you I wish I could figure out for myself.Even after the play…he didn’t look fit to cower or run from such a show.And the thing withthe chair.”
Devyn felt naive for previously having no inkling that debutantes talked this way.
“I’m so glad he isn’t here to hear you say as much.I’m sure his ego would never recover,” one of her legs nudged against him as she crossed her legs, a subtle but teasing graze of his cheek.
The other woman giggled.“If you find another, send him my way this time, please?”
Devyn planted a furtive kiss to the inside of Moria’s calf.
“Who says I’m looking for another?”
“Isn’t that why you’re out here alone?”
“You never asked, Gretchen, but he went inside to fetch me a refreshment, I believe.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Is he missing a boot, then?”the other woman asked in a whisper.
Devyn heard Moria gasp and look down.Belatedly, he realized the toe of his boot was sticking out from under her dress.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Ladies, I’ve been looking for you!”called a masculine voice.
Devyn willed his body to be still.It sounded familiar, but not quite close enough for Devyn to make out.
“Lord Clairville, I see you’ve met my friend, Lady Gretchen.”
Devyn covered his mouth with a hand to stifle a breath of surprise.
“I have.We set off in search of you and my brother and we got separated.I see she’s found at leastoneof you.”
Devyn was trying his damnedest to be so very still, but it was almost impossible at his size and even more so when his older brother made quips like that.He felt her move her legs, the silk and linen underside of her dress scratching against his face.An itch was hurtling through him.He brought a hand up to still it.Before he knew it or could stop it, a sneeze sprang out of him.
“Achoo!”Moria covered, he hoped successfully.He felt the stupidest idiot in existence for proposing to this woman, making her come apart on a terrace, and hiding underneath her wide skirts.
“I don’t think she’s feeling herself this evening after the performance, my lord.Perhaps we should find your carriage?”
Devyn knew his brother.He heard the held back laughter and recrimination in the other man’s voice as he said, “If you’ll come with me, my lady, we shall find Miss Kelley and see to getting her out of her…misery.”
When they were both gone and Moria had ascertained that they were alone, she pulled Devyn up from his perch by his lapels, kissing him breathless.She was laughing against his mouth, and his arms were around her waist.
He kissed the top of her head.“My ring’s on your finger now,” he spoke between them, “and the taste of you lingers on my tongue.”He looked down, falling inside the cool, blue lakes of her eyes, “No going back, my tempest.”
Her arms squeezed his midsection.“Stay right here for a moment, just like this.”
He nodded, wrapping her in both arms; losing himself in the staccato of her heartbeat against him, the cool night air and the smell of flowers on a breeze, the sound of music and revelry just a few feet inside.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Couldit be that ourLady Marinais taking some time to lick her wounds after the play written about her (or wasn’t it)?Or… hassomeoneturned her head?
- Scandalous Lives of London: August 1841
