Page 9 of Escaping the Earl
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Peregrine walkedthe mysterious beauty back to the ballroom. He studied her face a long moment, wishing he could see her features clearly, but he could tell that she was beautiful. He could hear it in her voice and see it in the way she carried herself. Even if her face was unremarkable by other men’s standards, Peregrine knew this woman was the world’s most beautiful. His own personal Helen of Troy, destined to ruin him.
In this one brief encounter, she had made him rethink his stance on marriage and settling down. And that was so very dangerous. That was how his father had felt when he’d met his mother, that marrying her would be everything he’d dreamed, and she had imagined the same. But they had both been gravely mistaken in their beliefs. Love and marriage were no recipe for happiness. They were a condemnation, a prison sentence.
He nodded toward the refreshment table. “Please, let me fetch you a drink. You must be thirsty.”
She smiled at him, and his stomach fluttered wildly. “Thank you, I’d like that.”
“Stay here. I shall return.” He went briskly to the refreshment table and collected two glasses. Then he returned... only to find she wasn’t there. He glanced around, searching the crowd for the beauty in a stunning silver gown.
She’d vanished, just as he’d feared.
“Who was that enchanting woman you were with?” Rafe asked as he joined him.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You danced with her. You must have at least introduced yourselves.”
Peregrine shook his head. “She never said her name, not even when I asked. My God... she’s truly gone. I’m beginning to wonder if I dreamed it.”
“If I hadn’t seen you dance with her, along with half of London’s highest society, I would have to agree. But you did dance with her, she does exist, and everyone is simply buzzing with questions about her.”
A middle-aged raven-haired beauty approached Peregrine and Rafe.
“Lord Rutland, who was that enchanting creature you danced with?”
“You see?” Rafe said.
“You do not know her, Lady Germain?” Peregrine asked.
She laughed and pulled away her black-and-red mask, which she held on a stick. “No, but I wish I did. I have run my mind over all the young ladies I issued invitations to, and I cannot think of who she is.”
“Did you see where she went?”
“I can’t say that I did.”
“A veritable mystery,” Rafe said. “Oh, this is delicious.”
Peregrine continued to search the ballroom for the woman in the silver gown, but he did not find her. Perhaps she really was a fae queen and had slipped back into her twilight realm as easily as mist fading before the dawn.
4
The following morning, Sabrina paced nervously in her bedchamber as she waited for the doctor to arrive. Mr. Booker and her brother were below in the drawing room, already planning her future.
They would certainly be shocked when the doctor pronounced her impure.
What a revolting word, meant to shame and belittle an entire sex for actions that men enjoyed without consequence. She felt no more soiled or damaged than yesterday. What she and the mysterious stranger had done last night had felt quite the opposite of impure. It had been something that came out of need, and yet so much more had been found there. Two lonely souls coming together.
“Stop pacing,” Prudence barked as they heard a rider approach outside. Sabrina rushed to the window and saw an old man climb off his horse and vanish as he approached the cottage door.
A few minutes later, there was a knock upon her bedchamber door, and Prudence let the man inside.
He squinted at Prudence through thick spectacles. “Which of you shall I be inspecting?”
Prudence jabbed a finger at Sabrina. “Her.”
“Ah, yes. Miss, would you kindly lie back upon the bed?”
