Page 28 of Lord Carlisle's Enticing Lure
“I have more silver hair, Giselle!” Lord Ramsey was a dark, beautiful man fit for a lady’s most erotic dreams.
Giselle laughed with all four of them. But to Amber she lifted a brow. “You really must do something to make Godfrey more at ease.”
“I have tried,” Amber said as she rolled her green eyes. “The man is ever vigilant. I have no time to read or draw. He is constantly taking me riding or walking.”
“She feeds me too well, Giselle,” Ramsey added. “I must fence and box to stay fit.”
“What he does,” his wife joked, “is play with the children so often that they don’t recognize their nannies.”
He swept an arm around his wife’s waist. “They know you, my darling. That’s all they’ll ever need.”
“Which is why”—Amber bent as if to share a secret—“we will soon welcome a third child to our family.”
“Oh, that is wonderful! Congratulations!” Giselle said. They had a boy and girl. To have another child was a blessing.
And I am envious.
She cleared her throat. “I wonder if Madame LeBrun has arrived.”
“She has.” Gus pointed toward the far corner. “She asked for you.”
“I will go to her.”
Ashley and Ramsey gave her small bows.
Ashley said, “We will dance, Giselle.”
“As ever before,” Ramsey added.
“I look forward to it, but your toes do not!” she said, and with that, she tipped her head toward the corner where she could find her friend, Élisabeth.
Giselle sailed over and greeted the lady with a smile. Standing talking with her was Terese, Lady Winterton, Clive’s pretty sister. “Good evening, Giselle. Delightful to see you again.”
Her words were honest. Giselle and Terese had enjoyed each other’s company each time they met. Dinner the other evening included.
“A large crowd, isn’t it?”Is Clive here?
“Quite a crush,” Terese agreed. “I’ve not seen such a gathering in years. But then, I do not attend balls as a regular rule.”
“I prefer afternoon events myself,” Giselle admitted. “Garden parties are more my favorite.”
“And you, Madame Le Brun?” Terese asked Élisabeth.
“The afternoon is for conversation and the evening is for family and laughter.”
“I do agree,” came the resilient baritone of a tall, warm presence beside Giselle. Clive held three glasses of pale white wine, which he handed round to the women.
“Oh, take mine, please, monsieur le marquis,” begged Élisabeth. “Do not fetch another. I came to the party to be personable. I remain for only a few minutes.”
Terese shook her head. “Absolutely, you must remain. The prince regent has accepted the invitation. Everyone is abuzz.”
Beside her, Giselle felt the solidity of Clive, whose shoulder touched hers in an intimacy that rocked her. She looked up into his perfect gray eyes and traced his lips with her gaze. She took a sip of herwine and licked her lower lip. How she wanted the taste of him on her tongue. The feel of him beneath her fingertips. The intensity of his fascination with her proven, inside her. She had not wanted any man as she did this charming one.
Oh, she was besotted!
She tore her attentions to more proper thoughts. “Stay, Élisabeth. Everyone must see the prince at his leisure.”
The lady smothered a laugh. “I am used to the vanities of the powerful. He thinks himself handsome, I suppose.”
