Luck Is No Lady(112)

Lily’s attention returned to his gaze and she felt a tightening in her belly. Her heart stopped, skipped a few beats, then started up again in a frantic rhythm.

Despite his severe appearance, something about him reached out to her, touching her with an intrinsic sort of recognition. She sensed with a certainty beyond rational explanation that his unyielding manner was a facade. There was passion in him. She felt it in every breath she took as she stood under his intent gaze.

Their silent interaction was becoming more inappropriate by the minute, yet she could not compel herself to break away. As though caught in an invisible trap, she stared back while her hands began to sweat and her stomach trembled.

Finally, the stranger released her and turned toward the gentleman at his side.

Cast adrift, Lily took a moment to catch her breath and fumbled to control her galloping heart. Desperately wanting to find a quiet place to absorb what she had just experienced, Lily returned her attention to the young ladies beside her, seeking an opportunity to interrupt their steady conversation so she could excuse herself.

“He quite frankly terrifies me,” Lady Anne declared in a thready whisper.

“Do not be so dramatic,” Miss Farindon chastised.

“Some say he is a demon.”

Miss Farindon laughed. “He is but a man. A moody, rude and highly arrogant man, but certainly no demon.”

Miss Farindon and Lady Anne, out in their first Season like Lily, were making the most of a short break from the dance floor by gossiping about those still on it. Despite her unease, Lily’s attention was caught.

“Look at him. He never smiles. All he does is stand there and glower.”

A wave of awareness rolled through Lily as she realized what, or rather who, had become their latest topic.

She followed Lady Anne’s furtive gaze across the room. Again, she felt the internal rush as she looked upon the black-eyed man still talking with Lord Michaels, their host for the evening.

With the gentleman’s attention diverted, she managed to take note of the generalities of his appearance. Lily estimated he was not quite thirty years old, and though he was above average in height, he did not appear so tall he would completely tower over Lily, who stood just a bit over five feet. He was dressed elegantly all in black down to his waistcoat, which put his white shirt and cravat into stark contrast. His hair was thick and black, and he wore it much shorter than the windswept style many gentlemen preferred.

Even in relative stillness, the gentleman radiated an intense presence.

Lily forced herself to look away. “Who is he?”

“His name is Avenell Slade, the Earl of Harte,” Miss Farindon offered, obviously quite in the know. “He has an estate near ours in Cornwall, though I believe he prefers London these days. I haven’t been to the country myself in many years, but I used to catch glimpses of him when I was a girl, riding his black horse along the cliffs.”

Lady Anne gave a visible shudder. “He looks dangerous.”

Lily agreed.

“Danger can be fun sometimes, don’t you think?” Miss Farindon suggested naughtily, her gaze sparkling as she focused across the room. “Oh look, he is coming our way.”

Lady Anne gasped while Miss Farindon twittered.

Lily resisted as long as she could before she turned to see the two men heading straight for them. The crowd parted for Lord Harte to pass and Lily noted several downcast glances and quick retreats as the enigmatic gentleman made his way across the ballroom.

If he noticed the odd behavior of those around him, he did not seem the least bit bothered by it.

“Oh my.”

Lily wasn’t sure which one of the girls whispered the quiet exclamation. But she could guess the reason for it.

The dark earl’s attention was once again focused undeniably on Lily. As he drew nearer, she realized his eyes were not black as she had thought. They were in fact a deep midnight blue. And she had been quite right in believing he was not as dispassionate as he appeared, because something else became apparent as he grew near. His expression was not cold as much as it was…angry.

Lily stiffened, feeling his animosity like a dousing of iced water. A breath of panic seized her and she lowered her gaze.

Had she wronged him in some way she was not aware of?

The possibility filled her with distress, even though she knew if she had ever crossed paths with him in the past, she would have remembered it.

Lord Harte and Lord Michaels arrived at their little group and their host began the proper introductions. From beneath her lashes, Lily watched as Lord Harte did not take the ladies’ hands to bow over them or press a courtly kiss to their knuckles. Instead, he provided only a simple nod of his head in acknowledgment. He did, however, offer a brief comment to Miss Farindon about remembering her family from Cornwall.