Chapter Seven

" M ay I make an introduction?" When the ball's hostess, Lady Tisendale, brought over a stranger, Purity tried to keep from looking past him. Foxford hadn't yet shown up, and she was trying desperately not to search for him.

She was not awaiting the sight of him. Preposterous!

Upon closer inspection, she thought she recognized the gentleman by her hostess's side, although she'd never danced with him.

"Lady Diamond, Lady Purity," said Lady Tisendale, "may I present Lord Pearson?"

Her mother inclined her head, while Purity curtsied. "Good evening, my lord."

"I am pleased to meet you. Enchanted, in fact. If your mother will allow, I hope you will do me the honor of a dance."

"Yes, my lord." She didn't ask her mother, as that was said as a formality. At her age, she could dance with whomever she wished. After examining her card, she penciled in his name and curtsied again as he bowed. Then he left with their hostess.

"He seemed an acceptable man," Purity said, looking after him. Lord Pearson was tall with a straight back and fair hair.

"I suppose," her mother said. "Perhaps a milksop."

"Mother! How can you judge the man upon so few words and such a brief interaction?" Strangely, she had the same impression yet didn't know why.

Lady Diamond shrugged. "Something about the set of his lips, or maybe it was in his eyes."

"It doesn't matter," Purity reminded her. "I shall merely dance with him. It's not—" she interrupted herself. "There he is!"

"Who?" her mother asked.

Foxford was already approaching, so Lady Diamond had her answer. As usual, he took her mother's hand before she offered. Purity was so used to him, it didn't bother her at all. Then again, she would be remiss if she didn't remind him.

Thus, after he'd greeted her mother, when Purity's glance met his over her gloved knuckles, she said, "You ought to have allowed us the option of presenting you with our hand. We might not have wished contact."

"Don't you?" he asked, still holding her hand and looking at her, his face inches away.

"Don't I?" she whispered, forgetting the thread of their conversation as her head filled with his delectable cologne.

Then her mother cleared her throat, and Purity recalled where she was and who had hold of her. She snatched back her hand so quickly, she well-nigh left her glove in his grasp.

"May I have the honor of a dance?" he asked.

"Nicely requested," her mother said.

"You may," Purity agreed. And examined her card.

"Is the dance before dinner still free?" Foxford was practically cross-eyed trying to read her card upside down.

"There is no dinner tonight," she informed him. "Only dancing and light refreshment."

His face soured.

"In any case," Purity said, "as I told you before, you ought to be dining with a lady whom you wish to court."

He sighed. "Very well, but will you allow me to bring you a glass of their nasty warm lemonade or watery wine, at the very least?"

"So graciously put," Lady Diamond quipped.

"If we see you during the interlude, then we would appreciate a glass of whatever you can procure," Purity told him. "I've put you down for the seventh dance."

"And?" he asked.

"And what?"

"A second dance is permissible. You told me that, I believe."

She glanced at her lovely, redheaded mother who raised a perfect eyebrow and, as usual, left the decision up to Purity.

"Later in the evening, then," she said, penciling in another dance and showing him.

"I will see you soon," he promised, bowing smartly and leaving them.

Sadly, the other gentlemen who filled in her card seemed tepid in comparison. Not mollycoddles, precisely, but without the Fox's dash-fire. She found herself looking forward to their dance instead of enjoying her partners and hoping to find a match. Moreover, she couldn't help watching to see with whom Foxford was dancing. To her surprise, she never saw him on the floor.

By the fourth dance, she started to fret that he was engaging in a light dalliance in the dimly lit garden. By the sixth dance, she wondered if he was having a tryst in one of the private rooms. When she stood with her mother before the seventh dance, she was in high dudgeon.

"Are you ready?" Foxford asked, startling her when he appeared from the side while she'd been scouting the crowded room.

She hesitated a moment too long, examining him for signs of indecorous behavior.

"For our dance," he reminded her, snagging the card dangling from her wrist. "It's time for the seventh."

"Yes," she hissed, snatching it back. "I am aware."

He bowed to her mother, then held out his hand, which Purity took. As they strolled to the dance floor, he asked, "Are you well? You seem out of sorts. Not another megrim, I hope."

"You shouldn't remark on a lady's health if you think it might not be at its pinnacle. But I am fine. My head does not ache in the least."

Her feet, however, were starting to throb a little, and she was glad she'd had the foresight not to assign another partner until after the interlude.

Then, against all her upbringing and besides knowing better, she asked, "Where have you been thus far?"

He didn't falter in his step. "Why, I have been here all night."

She nearly spat out the word liar , glad she still had the composure to bite her tongue. A moment later, Purity tried again.

"I haven't seen you upon the dance floor, not once."

"That's because I haven't danced. I ran into a friend—"

He had probably run right into some blowsabella.

"Lord Quinn," he continued. "I confess, he had a flask of cognac we were sharing over in that alcove with another chum."

Purity gazed where he gestured with his head, and there was a gentleman leaning against the wall, speaking with another man.

"I see," she said, her ire deflating. She had been looking in the wrong place, and those infernally large flower arrangements everyone was so keen on creating in oversized vases had been hiding him. "Then I, too, must confess. My imagination got the better of me. I assumed you were living up to your reputation."

"As a reprobate?" he asked, understanding immediately.

She shrugged slightly, then nodded.

Instead of being annoyed or insulted, he grinned down at her, turning her knees weak.

"Why are you looking like that?" she asked, wishing he would turn off his compelling charm.

"Because, kitten, I am thrilled you were looking for me at all. And here I thought you didn't like me. By the by, did I tell you how lovely you are in that burgundy satin? It's fierce but very feminine."

The heat crept up her neck.

"And now you're blushing so prettily, I want to sweep you out of here and kiss those rosy cheeks."

"Cease your nonsense," she said. "You are teasing me, which is not very kind."

"Isn't it?" He tightened his hold upon her. "I never said I was a kind man."

"I suppose you didn't."

"Why, then?" he asked.

"Why what?"

Foxford cocked his head. "Why were you looking for me?"

Purity was caught off guard. She plucked from her brain the first answer that came to mind.

"We are not supposed to carry on such a serious conversation lest it mar the enjoyment of the dance."

"My enjoyment isn't marred in the least," he assured her. To prove it, he gave her an energetic twirl at the end of the room.

"I'm glad you chose a waltz, but it would be easier to converse if we were alone somewhere quiet. Shall we take a walk in the garden when the music ends?"

"And there is the Fox I was expecting," Purity said, bewildered to find herself pleased that he'd asked her.

"Merely to talk," he promised, yet the glint in his eyes intimated more exciting, unspeakable actions.

She shivered. For a moment — a long, wistful moment — she considered how much she longed to cooperate with his wicked intentions. Then she cast such impossible thoughts aside with a sigh.

"Of course," Purity agreed. "We shall simply tell my mother we are heading out into the darkness. She will have no problem with that."

His grin reappeared. "Isn't there some warning about the use of sarcasm in your manners book?"

"Probably," she said. "Accordingly, if you behave, I will curb my tongue."

"Without access to your tongue, I suppose I shall have to behave."

Making sense of his words, she fell silent, a little shocked by him as usual.

Matthew hoped he hadn't said something so crude his sweet kitten would stop speaking to him. Moreover, he didn't want to be banished from her side as soon as the dance concluded.

Therefore, after escorting her to her mother, he requested permission to bring over his good friend to meet them both.

Soon, Purity and her mother had made the acquaintance of Lord Quinn, who was a jovial sort to have at any party.

"Neither of you gentlemen have danced much," Lady Diamond remarked.

"To be frank," Quinn said, "I am not much for dancing, but I do enjoy the merriment of a ball."

"If there are ladies who wish to dance," Lady Purity said, "I hope you will put yourself to the trouble of being agreeable and offering them a partner. Otherwise, you are attending the wrong venue and ought to have gone to the theatre where you are permitted only to watch without participating."

Quinn sent Matthew a quick, side-eye glance. His friend thought Purity a stickling, prim, goody two-shoes. That much was clear. Matthew wanted him to like her for he intended to have her in his life permanently.

"I believe the lady has a point," he said. "If a wallflower sees you lounging, she will not know you don't wish to dance. She will naturally think you don't want to dance with her."

"Exactly, Lord Foxford," Lady Purity said, giving him a genuine smile.

Matthew's heart warmed at having won her approval. Then she leaned closer, allowing him to catch the delicate aroma of her rose perfume, an instantly arousing scent.

"But it is best not to call any lady a wallflower , any more than you would wish to be known as a wall-prop simply because you and Lord Quinn chose to stand and chat."

She was correct of course, except no one in their right mind would look at him or Quinn and think any such thing, not with their obvious good looks. Whereas, it was painfully clear why a shy female hugged the wall, fearful of any man's notice.

However, Matthew wouldn't point that out. Instead, he nodded sagely.

Purity included Quinn in her next pronouncement. "It would be perfectly proper for you two gentlemen to escort my mother and me to the refreshment area in the other room."

Matthew nearly laughed at the expression on Quinn's face. His friend didn't know he'd asked for such instruction. Before Quinn judged her insufferable, Matthew had to explain.

"Lady Purity has graciously agreed to my request of tutelage in the social graces. Since I was remiss in bringing a refreshment to them, which I previously offered, I appreciate her reminder."

"The social graces," Quinn repeated, and Matthew could tell he was a hairsbreadth away from laughing.

Quickly, he offered Lady Purity his arm, confident Quinn would escort Lady Diamond.

They hadn't gone two steps when Varley appeared, letting his gaze go between Matthew and Purity. He looked as if he might say something, but after a shallow bow to Purity, he moved on.

"Do you know that man, my lord?" Purity asked. "Since he was directly in our path and made eye contact, I wonder why he didn't make an introduction."

"An acquaintance from university and from my club, but not a friend."

Matthew was glad Varley hadn't shouldered him aside rudely as he had before. Following the viscount's path, he saw Varley meet up with a blond-haired lady whom Matthew knew too well. While her first name, which he'd rarely used, escaped him, he was sure it was Lady Tupmoure, with whom he'd had a torrid affair, lasting all of a fortnight.

Her surname had struck Matthew funny in a most juvenile way when he'd first learned it, and she had well lived up to the moniker. But apart from her singular skill, Matthew had found her to be unamusing, petty, and worst of all, a clinging vine. Seeing her again, he wished Varley joy of her, certain at least in bed he would experience that and more.

Refreshments were unfortunately more like the meager fare provided by Almack's outdated assembly rooms than a sumptuous repast. Yet the bread wasn't stale, at least, and was offered with creamy butter and fish paste. There were also cubes of aged cheddar and decanters of claret that was surprisingly full bodied.

"Not the worst," Quinn said, as they all put bread and cheese upon their plates and wandered the hall into the dining room where some had taken seats.

"Would you ladies like to sit?" Matthew asked.

In a few moments, the countess and her daughter were seated with a place to put their wine glasses and plates. Matthew and Quinn likewise had a place to rest their glasses while standing behind the ladies' chairs.

Quinn made himself sound respectable with stories of his large family and his success at university. Naturally, he let it slip he was a viscount in case the Diamonds were unaware. Matthew didn't mind his friend's boasting, so long as he kept himself polite.

Associating with Quinn could only increase Matthew's own respectability. It seemed to work, for both the countess and her daughter relaxed. If the ladies only knew that Quinn's name was not on everyone's tongues for the simple reason his appetite was mainly for females who weren't members of the ton , and hence of no interest to anybody.

When the music began again, Purity was whisked away from him onto the dance floor. To please her, he made the effort to find a lady who had not yet been asked for the next dance. At least Matthew could be on the parquet at the same time, even if he didn't care to see his kitten gazing at some other swell.

After what seemed an interminable time, it was his turn again with the only true diamond at the ball. The moment he claimed Purity, looking like a luscious satin rose petal, he enjoyed a sensation of rightness and satisfaction, not to mention a roaring wave of desire, which washed over him as they got into position.

"Did you notice how I danced with every wallfl— That is, every young lady who needed a partner?"

He hoped he'd scored a few more points on the dart board of their burgeoning association.

"I didn't notice, my lord. I was correctly giving my attention to each of my partners."

Had he danced with all those chits for nothing?

"But I think it is extremely gentlemanly of you to do so. I imagine after tonight, we won't need to do any further instruction. From what I've seen, I must conclude you knew everything all along and was merely in want of a little pressing to remind you."

The only thing he wanted to press was her body against the wall while covering her mouth with his own. Since voicing that inappropriate thought would earn him the loss of his dance partner for good, he didn't say it. Then he had another idea.

"I suppose you are correct, my lady. Although I was hoping we could go riding, and you would ensure I didn't say or do anything vulgar while upon horseback. Perhaps I shouldn't even suggest anything apart from a carriage ride in case the lady cannot sit a horse."

She gazed up at him. "Why would you say or do anything untoward while riding that you wouldn't do with your feet upon the ground?"

He shrugged. "There is the obvious sensual nature of riding a horse, in some ways mimicking the movement of a good tupping once you get up to a gallop."

Lady Purity gasped.

"No, it's true," he vowed, as if she were going to disavow his words. "Apart from that, following a woman on horseback is a veritable feast for the male eyes, watching the swaying of both the horse and the feminine form in harmony."

He knew he was getting to her by the way she missed a step.

"With a carriage ride on the other hand, one can enjoy the close quarters. Delightful! Even better if the lady's chaperone rides far behind."

"My lord," she said softly.

"Yes?" He hoped his face was the picture of innocence.

"Gentlemen do not say any of those things aloud."

"Don't they?" He whirled her along the length of the floor. "Yet my friends and I speak this way all the time. Did I mention I have never courted a woman before?"

"Yes, you did, nor had a female friend, apparently."

"Is it that obvious?" he asked.

"Sadly, it is."

That made him smile, which he quickly tried to quash and turn into a frown.

"I guess there are still some things for me to learn. Polite discourse being one."

She tilted her head, taking his measure. For a second, he thought she'd seen through his ruse. Sure of it when she parted her lips to speak.

"Purity," he jumped in, "will you ride in the park with me and give me some tips on appropriate topics of conversation?"

"My lord!" she said again, with agitation.

"What now, did I step on your foot?"

"You used my given name."

He grinned at her. "It slipped out. Do you prefer kitten after all?"

"I prefer neither. Is this dance exceedingly long?"

"I don't think so. Shall I call out to the manager and ask how much longer? I hope you're not eager to get away from me. I could hold you all night in my arms, preferably off the dance floor."

She shook her head. "You have gone too far. Now I know you are testing me with your impudence."

"Or is it im pru dence?" Matthew asked, hoping she wouldn't abandon him.

When she looked down at the floor, however, and back at him, he could see the laughter shining in her eyes. Gorgeous, breathtaking eyes. He thanked God he'd come across her at Lansdowne House. All at once, it dawned on him.

" You broke the rules!"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"At Lansdowne House. If you hadn't flaunted propriety and gone by yourself to the drawing room, we never would have met. Thus, you came into my uncultivated sphere of your own volition. How wonderful, don't you think?"

"I don't understand what you are so pleased about."

"Only that we met because you behaved more like me. It was fortuitous, maybe even fate. And I am asking you to bring me into your world by teaching me to be more like you."

He hoped she would think their meeting romantic and fall into his arms, or in the current situation, offer him some hope of doing so in the future.

Instead, her expression became alarmed.

"Stop," she ordered quietly but firmly.