Page 13 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
She turned to her mother, waiting for the inevitable tongue lashing, but Mama was beaming at her as if she had just done something very clever indeed. As if she was some kind of a hero who had rescued a child from drowning, or something.
“Come inside, dearest,” she said, putting her arm around her, drawing her towards the house. “We need to look at your wardrobe, and decide carefully what you will wear tomorrow afternoon….”
Ara let her mother draw her inside, still slightly stunned. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, she was not in trouble. Suddenly, she was being feinted and adored, it seemed.
And all because a stranger had come to her aid at a horse auction. Life was strange, mused Ara. Life was very strange, indeed.
Chapter 7
Miles walked into the family home on Grosvenor Square, feeling as if he were walking on air just a little.
Thoughts of the beautiful, fiery young lady were still consuming him, and had been ever since he had left her on her front doorstep.
He strode up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. He was running a little late and had to change. He had agreed to meet Andrew for dinner at Brown’s, and his brother would be nursing his first drink by now.
He rushed into his room, barely noticing as his manservant helped him change from his afternoon clothes into his evening ones.
Ara,he thought again.Her name is Ara.
Painstakingly, he recalled her every feature. Her flashing velvet brown eyes, her silky dark blonde hair, her womanly bosom, straining out of her bodice. No, she wasn’t showy, like the other ladies on the circuit. But she suddenly appeared a thousand times more beautiful to him than any of the other ladies ever could.
And she was direct, in a way that the other ladies could never be. She was so honest. She spoke her mind, without fear of what people would think. She seemed to not care a whit about what was expected of her as a young lady. And he found that very refreshing indeed.
Abruptly, he remembered her hesitation when he had asked if he could call on her. Was she as interested in him as he was in her? She had never had a chance to respond before her mother had swept out, overtaking the conversation.
He thought of her mother, smiling a little grimly. Unfortunately, he had methertype many times before. The woman had been positively livid when she had first seen him, standing beside her daughter; so much so that he had been a little fearful she was going to clobber him on the street. But as soon as he had introduced himself as the duke, her attitude had changed dramatically.
She is a husband hunter, he thought.A professional husband hunter, like all the matriarchs on the London circuit. And all that they care about is how high up the social ladder the potential husband is.
He had seen it a thousand times before and had even had a few of the matriarchs set their sights on him, trying to reel him in to marry their daughters. Mrs. Nott was just the same as all of them. But what did Ara herself think of her mother’s blatant display? Was she complicit, or resistant?
He was almost dressed now. Quickly, he glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. He needed to stop thinking about the alluring Miss Nott and get a move on.
***
Andrew was sitting at the private table they had booked. He raised his eyebrows as Miles rushed into the gentleman’s club, shaking his head in an amused manner.
“Tardiness isn’t usually your thing, brother,” he said, as Miles slid into the chair opposite him. “Did you take longer at the auction than you were expecting?”
Miles shook his head, as the waiter filled his wine glass, waiting until the man had left before turning to his brother and answering him.
“I foundsomethingat the auction,” he said slowly. “But it wasn’t what I was expecting, at all.”
Andrew raised his eyebrows again, picking up his wine glass. “You are being very enigmatic, brother. How is the wager going, if I might ask?”
Miles sighed. “I have just been invited to afternoon tea, Andy. Because of the Duke of Lancaster’s title.”
Andrew looked slightly downcast. “Damnation!” But he recovered quickly. “Tell me everything. Where are you going for tea?”
“The Notts, on Whitechapel,” he replied slowly. “They seem very well to do and own a country estate in Dorset. I met Mrs. Nott, who claimed that you have invited the family to your ball?”
Andrew shrugged a little. “I really have no idea who I invited. I just asked Briggs to find all the eligible young ladies who were in London for the season and take it from there.” He gazed at Miles curiously. “Who is the young lady?”
Miles took a deep breath. “Her name is Miss Arabella Nott, but she prefers to be known as Ara.” He hesitated, taking another sip of wine. “She is quite remarkable, brother. Quite remarkable indeed.”
“How so?”
Miles could barely articulate it. “She is just different to all the other young ladies. Like a breath of fresh air. Fiery, direct, and opinionated.” He grinned. “She is a firecracker, Andy. And a beautiful one.”
