Luck Is No Lady(9)

Or someone.

Panic spiked through her.

Would he look her way? Did she want him to?

Irrationally, stupidly…she did.

Thank goodness his attention seemed only drawn to the crowd in the middle of the ballroom. He never even spared a glance toward the gaggle of matrons along the wall where Emma stood.

Looking away, she vowed to contain her curiosity and stay as far from Mr. Bentley as she could manage. Thank God there could be no way for him to associate the eldest Chadwick sister, spinster and guardian, with the girl he had so thoroughly kissed.





Three


Roderick Benjamin Bentley stood stiffly beneath the bright and glittering lights of the ballroom. He could feel the tension tightening through his shoulders every minute he remained within the boundaries of the haut ton.

He did not belong here.

It was evident in every glance of condescension and sneer of derision thrown his way. It did not matter that his father had been an earl and his mother the daughter of a marquess. If his parents had been married, he would have outranked most of those in attendance tonight. But a bastard had no rights to his father’s pedigree, and his mother’s family had disowned her before he had been born. He had never even met any of them.

He was here tonight for one express purpose, and he wanted to see it done so he could get the hell out of there.

It had been his awful luck to encounter Lady Calder when he first arrived. The voluptuous blond had made it clear on previous occasions she desired an affair. She had shamelessly drawn him into the study with a request for private conversation on a matter of importance. He stupidly assumed she wanted to talk of an investment possibility. His financial expertise was usually what the peerage wanted from him.

But as soon as they stepped into the darkened study, she pressed her perfumed body against him and whispered lewd suggestions into his ear.

It always amazed him when the same ladies who refused to meet his gaze on the street turned to harlots if they managed to catch him alone.

He had no desire for a dalliance with Lady Calder. Despite the many offers he received from ladies of her ilk, something clenched in his stomach at the thought of engaging in any sort of relationship with one of them. Their interest was based solely on the fact that he was so unacceptable for any legitimate association. They were attracted to him only because they shouldn’t be. He was a novelty. Any affair would be a shallow experience, and he had no wish to be anyone’s momentary distraction.

Nor did he wish to become involved in an angry husband’s attempt to restore his faithless wife’s honor. When Lady Calder had glimpsed her husband out in the hall, Roderick had readily turned to hide behind the curtain. Roderick knew of Lord Calder. The man had the temper of a berserker and fists like anvils.

As he had said to the young woman who joined him shortly after, hiding had been less an act of cowardice than of simple self-preservation.

He swept his gaze out over the crowd swirling about the dance floor in their finery. He wondered where she had gone, the woman who had pressed against him so sweetly in the darkness.

He hadn’t lied when he’d promised not to follow her back out into the light.

He didn’t need to.

The poor young woman had been so preoccupied with Lord Marwood, she hadn’t even thought to take care when hiding herself.

For a long moment, when she’d swept back the curtain with her gaze trained on the doorway, the candlelight had fallen gently on her features. It had been enough for Roderick to get a solid impression of the young woman.

Petite and slim of form, with burnished gold hair gracefully swept into an artful mass at her crown, a straight and narrow nose, elegant cheekbones, and a graceful jawline. He didn’t think it would be too difficult to pick her out of the crowd if he tried.

It would be better for both of them if Roderick allowed for some anonymity. No respectable young lady would care to garner the interest of an earl’s bastard, even if he didn’t have the reputation he had cultivated in the years of his youth.

Roderick wouldn’t be doing her any favors by seeking her out.

Still, from the moment he had entered the ballroom, he couldn’t stop looking out over the hundreds of debutantes floating about. He wondered if he’d catch another glimpse of her.

“What the hell drove you to approach me in the middle of Hawksworth’s ballroom?” Tindall snapped. “I am courting his daughter, for God’s sake. I cannot have him doubting my integrity.”

Roderick couldn’t help mocking the man a bit. “One conversation with me will not tarnish your filigree, Tindall.”

In truth, Roderick would have preferred to meet Tindall anywhere but here, but the man had ignored his notes requesting a private meeting. Loyalty to their past friendship demanded he at least make an attempt at helping Tindall’s reckless younger brother.