Page 18 of Her Impeccable Scoundrel
“Introducing the earl to the ton, are you?”
The sly voice spoke too close to her ear.
“It seems he needs little help from us, Lord Vernon,” Hermione said.
Lord Vernon turned a haughty gaze on Blythe’s companion. “You have the advantage of me, madam.”
The self-centered fool hadn’t noticed Hermione. Of course he hadn’t.
“Lady Hermione Gravelston.” Hermione tapped him with her closed fan. “And we have met before, Lord Vernon. Not that I suppose you should remember me.”
He grinned. “So charming a lady. Of course I remember you.”
She scoffed. “There’s no need to lie. Your father is Diddenton. I’m from Hampshire as well.”
“Ah.” He turned his attention to Blythe. “My dear, Blythe. How do you do tonight? I’m told your brother has descended upon you as well as Chilcombe. A veritable bachelor establishment.”
“No, indeed,” Hermione said. “We have equal numbers, don’t we, Lady Chilcombe?”
“Lady Hermione has joined us too,” Blythe said. “She is a dear friend who just arrived in town. We intend to enjoy the Season together.”
He bowed. “I shall be happy to serve as your escort.”
Hermione laughed. “You will have to join the queue behind Chilcombe and Captain Lynford. They’ve both promised to attend on us.”
Blythe’s lips quivered. That had been a blatant lie.
“I protest. You must help me move to first place in the queue,” Lord Vernon said, “and help me win this lady’s favor. I’ve waited a whole year while she grieved Archie’s death, and now she is free, I’m crushed that she shuns me.”
“Shuns you? You paid a call on me only this morning.”
“In a crowd of callers and only during morning hours. There was a time, Lady Gravelston, when I was welcome at Chilcombe House at any hour.”
Blythe’s throat choked with anger. She looked away and saw that Graeme was watching her while he bent his ear to his gentleman friend. Then he excused himself and walked her way.
“The late Lord Chilcombe was your bosom friend then?” Hermione asked.
“The closest of friends.”
“I see. Yes, I’m sure there were certain callers my late husband would have welcomed at any hour. It is very hard to lose a good friend, but a wise gentleman understands that some things must change in relation to a friend’s widow.”
* * *
Graeme arrived in time to hear Lady Hermione’s motherly set down.
He’d seen the anger in Blythe’s face and instinctively come to intervene. She, however, had composed herself. It was the other fellow whose face had reddened now.
“Are you enjoying yourself, my lord?” Blythe asked, her tone polite. “May I make known to you this friend of my late husband?”
He shook his head. “We are already acquainted.”
Blythe quickly excused herself to go speak with a friend of her own. She glided away, Lady Hermione at her elbow.
Gentlemen craned their necks watching her, and he could see why. She carried herself proudly, defiantly almost, and still one could detect a vulnerability and innocence that may or may not refute the scandal spread about her. An intoxicating mix for some men.
Men like Lord Vernon. And if he was honest, himself too.
He caught the villain watching her, his look both predatory and possessive.
