Page 28 of The Blind Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)
“You do a marvelous job with description. I can easily see this scene.” Though he kept a tight hold on the head of his cane—the silver one—his pulse accelerated. “It’s rather hot in this room with all the guests.”
“I agree. One thing about these large townhouses in St. James Square is they don’t share lots or walls. They are free standing, so they have large back gardens. Would you like to move outside for some fresh air?”
“Quite tempting.”
“It is.” A bit of a wistful tone had entered her voice. “Do you wish to join the next set? I’ve been told it will be a Viennese waltz.”
“That requires many steps and switching partners often.” Not that he couldn’t perform the activity, and yes, dancing was based on feeling as he’d said, but the fact remained, he didn’t want to tax his confidence, not here, not in the public eye.
“I would much rather share a waltz with you in the fashion we’ve become accustomed to. ”
She turned more fully into him and rested a palm against the side of his face. “We can move into the corridor. That way we can still hear the music.”
“Do you wish to join in on the dancing, or do you merely want to partner with me?”
Her soft giggle went straight to his groin. “A bit of both?”
“Mmm, how about this?” He put his free hand on her waist regardless of the fact they were in public and in a ballroom to boot. “We could quit the event early and dance in our own drawing room, with our cat nearby, and that way, if things grow amorous, all we need is to move upstairs…”
“Hellfire and damnation. If I hadn’t heard it myself, I would never have believed that the Duke of Masterson was propositioning a woman.”
Allan inhaled sharply from the intrusion, but when he finally placed the voice, he grinned. “Ah. Blackthorne, I presume?”
There were whispers that the earl had been a spy for England at one time, but no one could quite confirm it, while still other bits of gossip said he was a smuggler who’d made a fortune two times over bringing illegal French brandy through the naval blockades during the war to sell to wealthy aristocrats.
No one knew exactly what Cecil Colfax had been in his past, and neither did it matter to people who didn’t care what society thought of them.
The fact remained that he was a formidable if mysterious personage within the beau monde.
“Indeed.” The earl grabbed Allan’s free hand and gave it a firm shake. “It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen you, Masterson, and now I know why. You fell into parson’s mousetrap.”
“I did, and gladly.” He slipped his hand to the small of Annette’s back. “This is my wife, Lady Masterson. Annette, this is the Earl of Blackthorne, one of my longtime friends as well as the host of this ball.”
“It’s a lovely home, and your ball seems a success.” The smile in her voice was obvious.
“Thank you, but this ball is for my sister, Victoria, to celebrate her engagement. Let us hope it takes this time.”
“What do you mean?” Allan frowned. “Is there trouble on that front?”
“One never knows, but my sister attracts scandal like moths to flame. She’s been engaged before, to disastrous results. I’m not certain this one will hold either.”
“I wish you luck.”
“Mmm, I can use it. Never say you intend to quit my ball so early? It’s a half hour until midnight.”
The heat on his neck had returned. “I’m afraid so. Dancing is rather taxing with both the limp and the blindness. However, I do enjoy indulging in the privacy of my own home.”
“Very well. I don’t take it personally, and in all honesty, you should be away on a wedding trip instead of lingering about London.
Your beautiful bride deserves at least that.
” When fabric rustled and Annette uttered a sound of either pleasure or surprise, Allan surmised the earl must have taken her hand and raised it to his lips.
“Perhaps I shall see you when the Season starts at a different society event, Lady Masterson, and when that happens, I wish to reserve a dance with you.”
“I would enjoy that, Lord Blackthorne.”
“And you, Masterson, perhaps I’ll have the honor of gambling with you at the Lyon’s Den soon.”
Allan snorted. “It would take extraordinary circumstances for me to step foot inside that gaming hell again. I am quite satisfied the outcome of my last gamble.”
“Fair enough. Enjoy your night.”
Annette touched his chest with a hand. “Should I locate a footman and have them summon the carriage?”
“No need. I’ll walk to the mews, talk with the driver myself. I could use the fresh air. It will help to clear my head the rest of the way.”
“Is all well with you? Truth to tell, you have been uncharacteristically quiet since we set foot in this townhouse.”
Resting his cane against the wall, he held her head between his hands and peered down at her, not for the first time wishing he could see her face.
“I promise all is well. I have had something on my mind for a bit, and it has left me in confusion, but now that I’ve puzzled it out, I’m ready to move forward. ”
“That is rather… vague.”
He slid the pad of his gloved thumb along her bottom lip. “It is, and I promise everything will be revealed once you and I have the opportunity to talk privately.”
“Are you certain?” Concern wove through her voice.
“I am.” He nodded, and despite the fact they were in a ballroom full of people, he bent his head and pressed his lips to her forehead. “The mews are a block away. I shouldn’t be long.”
She clutched at his hand. “Be careful. It’s after dark.”
“I will.” Then he retrieved his cane and left the ballroom with thoughts of finally declaring himself to his wife as soon as they arrived home. He couldn’t keep those emotions to himself any longer.