Page 24 of Stealing the Rake's Heart
I’ll apologise to Hamish later,Alexander decided.Once this is over.
He spotted Miss Atwater, standing with her aunt, talking with a group of people he did not recognize.
No, he recognized one.
Graham. Wretched idiot.
There was no doubt in Alexander’s mind that Graham had rushed to Miss Atwater’s side to put his, Alex’s, nose out of joint. Not that Alexander was pursuing Miss Atwater. He wouldn’t dare. Her aunt would never allow that.
As he watched, Graham said something to the two ladies, and then departed in the direction of the refreshment stand.
What a gentleman, always anticipating their needs. Fetching lemonade and punch, no doubt, so that they don’t have to stir a step.
Hidden in the crowd, Alexander watched Miss Atwater turn eagerly to her aunt, a question on her face. Lady Caldecott smiled benignly down at her niece, saying something that Alex could not hear.
The beginning of a fine romance, I’m sure,Alexander thought, a cold feeling spreading through his chest.Come, now. Are you really going to mope like this in the middle of a ball? You’re meant to be happy, meant to be meeting new people, and…
The thought died in his head as a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
It was a woman, a perfect oval face framed by vivid blonde locks, skin pale as bone against black lace and jet beads. A widow, but a beautiful one, the sort of young, tragic figure that melted men’s hearts and drew them towards her like iron filings to a magnet.
Panic seized Alexander’s chest, catching him by the throat. He turned this way and that wildly, looking for somebody to save him.
Simply walking away through the crowd would never do. Not when he was being pursued by Lady Diana Lockwell, the Merry Widow herself.
Too late. She was on him.
The woman slipped sinuously through the crowd, dark eyes fixed on him. She reached out, placing one elegant white hand on his arm.
“Lord Alexander Willenshire, I do declare,” she said. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He winced. “Hardly. It’s my mother’s ball. And how…”
He bit his tongue, cutting off the end of the sentence. He had been about to askhow did you come to get an invitation?Aside from being horribly rude, the answer was simple. Mary invited everybody, and somebody from the famous Lockwell family – even only by marriage – could not be excluded.
Diana tilted her head like a bird, eyes glittering like she knew what he was going to ask anyway.
“I am glad to see you, Alex. May I still call you that, or is it too much of a liberty?”
Too much of a liberty, of course,Alex wanted to say, but it was rude to contradict a lady, so he only gave a sickly smile.
“I heard you’d retired to the country.”
Her pretty face soured into a pout. “My in-laws thought it best. I believe they disagreed with my grieving process.”
Alexander said nothing. According to the gossip, Lady Diana’sgrieving processhad involved lots of balls, fun, friends, and of course flirting. Even then, he imagined her cold and disdainful in-laws did not exactly disapprove of this, but only the gossip which followed.
“But I’m coming out of mourning soon,” Diana continued. “Really, I should be in half-mourning, but I find that I do look excellent in black. Don’t you think?”
She glanced coyly up at him, swishing her skirts around. The jet beads glittered. Heavy ropes of silver hung around her neck and wrists, replacing the usual creamy pearls that widows favoured.
She looked, frankly, beautiful. Alexander could admit that, even if he knew the danger that hovered behind that beauty.
“I’m not sure we should be talking, Diana,” he said, immediately cursing himself for his informality. Her eyes lit up, and he knew he’d made a mistake.
“Oh?”
“I… I mean our history?”
