Page 83 of A Tempest of Desire
As Langdon began escorting her down the stairs, she said, “We should have been announced separately, to give you some distance from me.”
“I don’t want distance from you.”
“Langdon—”
“You’re worrying about things that don’t matter. I’m perfectly capable of navigating my way through the briar patch. Relax and enjoy your evening.”
They took the last step together and he walked over to a stunning couple, their hosts.
“Langdon,” the duke said sharply.
“Lovingdon.” He took the hand of the lady and pressed a light kiss against her knuckles. “Grace. Allow me the privilege of introducing Marlowe.”
Marlowe dropped into a deep curtsy. “Your Graces. I am incredibly honored by your invitation.”
“We’re glad you could join us this evening,” the duchess said. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
She forced a smile. “I hope you don’t believe all of it.”
“My husband was once a favorite among the gossips. It can be quite the burden. We take all rumors with a grain of salt. Langdon tells us you’re an aeronaut.”
She jerked her gaze over to him. He was watching her, with something akin to pride reflected in his eyes. It was an odd sensation to be associated with flight rather than sin.
“Yes, Your Grace, it’s a hobby of mine.”
“You must come for tea, when I won’t have so many guests to greet, so you can take your time telling me about it. I’m most curious.”
“My wife enjoys adventures,” the duke said, and the way he looked at the woman at his side told Marlowe that he loved her deeply.
“It would be an honor to answer any of your questions about ballooning.”
“I look forward to our spending more time together. Enjoy your evening.”
Marlowe curtsied again and then took the arm that Langdon was offering to her. As they walked away, he asked, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“It was rather pleasant, although I don’t think she really expects me to come for tea.”
“Oh, I expect she does.”
When they were a good distance away, he stopped, reached into his coat pocket, and withdrew the dance card he’d been given when they arrived. She had a much smaller one in the shape of a fan attached to her wrist.
“I’d like to waltz with you. Which is your favorite tune?” he asked.
She looked over the list. “‘Greensleeves.’”
“‘Greensleeves’ it is.” He wrote her name on his card, his on hers, in the appropriate places.
“Langdon.”
He looked up at the young woman with red hair. At her side was a tall, handsome man. “Minerva. Ashebury. Allow me the honor of introducing Marlowe.”
She’d always rather fancied that she was knownby one name, but tonight she was wishing she was Miss Tittering. Even if it wasn’t particularly elegant.
“Marlowe, the Duke and Duchess of Ashebury.”
Another curtsy. “An honor.”
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Minerva said. “It’s such a crush here tonight. But then it always is. I don’t think anyone declines an invitation from them.” She turned her attention to Langdon. “Our latest investment is paying off quite nicely. I have an idea for another. I’ll send the numbers round next week so you can let me know if you agree it’s viable.”
