Page 21 of To Pleasure a Prince
He wasn’t expecting the water to be fine. But he could hardly tell her that.
He didn’t have to. As he led her inside the bustling foyer, the sounds of chatter died. Except for the conversation continuing between their hosts and Lady Regina, complete silence reigned as every eye turned to him.
For a second, he was transported to his first ball all those years ago. A bumbling seventeen-year-old, he’d tried to be the gentleman his mother wanted, but he’d been too big and awkward to do more than embarrass her.
Back then, however, the looks leveled on him had merely been pitying or contemptuous. Now they were downright hostile.
He reacted as he always did. Badly. “I’ve come to devour the virgins,” he growled. “Anyone care to tell me where they sit?”
That broke the silence, largely because people fled the foyer in a noisy rush. Here and there he heard their whispers: “the audacity of the man” and “how dared they invite him?” and the words “Dragon Viscount.”
“I see nothing has changed in society in nine years,” Marcus told Louisa. “Sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to ruin your party.”
She sniffed. “You haven’t ruined it, but if you keep on being such a surly—”
“Ass?” he said helpfully.
“There, that’s what I mean. You say these crude things even though you know better. If you’d give people a chance, and at leasttryto be courteous—”
“Lord Draker!” Katherine hurried over. “How good of you to come!”
“No need to shout,” he said. “I’ve already run everyone off.”
Katherine paled. “I’m sorry, Marcus—I meant to catch you at the door, but I thought you and Louisa were still outside. I should have paid better attention—”
“It’s all right.” He hadn’t meant to upset Katherine, whom he respected enormously. “I’m used to people’s reactions. Rolls right off my scaly back.”
At least it was only for one night; Lady Regina wouldn’t last beyond that. After this soiree, she’d think twice about linking her brother to his sister. He’d make sure of it.
His resolve hardened when Foxmoor said, “Shall we?” and held out his arm to Louisa, who left Marcus’s side to join the devil.
Marcus glared at the man’s back, then turned to Lady Regina. “Shall we brave the crowd, too, madam?” He offered her his arm, waiting to hear an excuse.
She merely took it and smiled.Smiled,for God’s sake! If he hadn’t known what she and her brother were up to, that smile would have knocked him back on his heels. But he wasn’t about to let it. Bad enough that the mere touch of his hand on her arm was stirring very ungentlemanly…thoughts.
As they headed down the hall, she murmured, “I suppose that comment about the virgins was your idea of a joke?”
“I merely said what everybody was thinking.” He cast her a sly glance. “Why? Have you decided you’re capable of being embarrassed after all?”
“No, but Louisa is.”
He groaned. Damn, the woman knew just how to get at him. But Louisa was the reason he was enduring this torture, though she might not appreciate it at the moment. “I’ll do my best not to shame her.”
He’d do his best, all right…to separate his sister from that devil Foxmoor. And if that meant subjecting Louisa to a little public embarrassment and crushing his unwanted physical attraction to Lady Lofty, then so be it. In the end, Louisa would thank him.
Chapter Five
A lady can enjoy any party where the company is well-mannered, sprightly, and amiable.
—Miss Cicely Tremaine,The Ideal Chaperone
After fifteen minutes at the soiree, Regina wanted to lecture nearly every person present. After thirty, she wanted to strangle them. And these people were the nicer members of society—they should at least tolerate Lord Draker to be polite. Yet they either gave him a wide berth, as if he had the pox, or insulted him within his hearing, as if he were invisible.
Nor was he any help whatsoever. The cooler they were, the more snide he became. If the scoundrel weren’t so huge, she’d rap his knuckles with her fan. He probably wouldn’t even feel it, the big lout.
As if matters weren’t bad enough, he now stood with that notorious Mr. Byrne, his supposed half brother. His lordship wasn’t satisfied with shoving his scruffy appearance in people’s faces—oh no, he had to remind them that only the previous viscount’s indulgence had saved him from being a bastard in the truest sense. God forbid Lord Draker should let sleeping dogs lie—that would be too easy.
Only half-paying attention to the Marchioness of Hungate beside her, who nattered on about some outrage, Regina stole a glance at them. When Lord Draker cast her a smug smile, she narrowed her eyes. He was actually enjoying the results of his churlish appearance and behavior. Why didn’t he understand that he only made things worse for himself?
