Chapter 5

"Brother, I am quite bored," Trenton murmured languidly from above the noise in the room. Straining to hear, Will turned around irritably. It was hot, it was crowded, and he was thirsty.

"Bored?" he asked, in annoyance. "How can you be bored, pray tell?"

But even as he uttered the words, Will knew. Casting his eyes around, he wished bitterly not to be there.

For Trenton, though, the ennui was different. For him, it wasn"t enough. He needed to be at the heart of it. Whatever in the damned hell "it" was. Gazing at the society ladies carousing, Will shuddered.

This place was hell. Meat market did not even cover it.

"Bored, bored, bored," continued Trenton, his green eyes expanding languidly. He was exceptionally foppish this evening, bedecked in dark green hose and a doublet, with a large feather protruding from his low-brimmed hat.

Will thought he looked like someone who paid women for their attentions.

Trenton flicked his pale eyes toward Will. "Bored-er than a eunuch in a bathhouse whore."

"Trenton!" barked Will. Quickly, he glanced about. Everyone around was feasting and dancing. Hopefully, no one had heard his brother"s outrageous remark.

"Come hither, Brother, and join me in the dance. It is most tiresome to be seated after so long," Trenton complained.

Sighing, Will shook his head. Dancing? Not on his life.

By now, he was the last one seated at the table, the rest of them having erupted in colorful dancing some time ago. Will gazed balefully at the assorted fun.

He hated feasting. What a way to find a life companion.

"Come on, do cheer up, Brother!" announced Trenton cheerily.

Will was about to remark that he had changed his tune when he looked up. His brother"s eye had been taken by something across the hall. Will could not yet see, but it was either a woman, wine, or a game. Or perhaps all three.

Gloomily, Will looked up. "What is there to cheer about?" he said. Rubbing his eyes, Will cast his head about. For a moment, he felt as if he had woken up in a nightmare.

Will yawned and longed to be back at his estate. There he could hunt and ride and quietly manage the land without any interference from his mother—or Trenton, or, in short, anyone.

But Trenton looked at him in genuine surprise. "The night is young! And the room is filled with beauteous maids. What is there not to like?"

Will looked up. He was about to mutter something about cattle at the market when, through the dim crowd, he saw a face.

The snapshot of her profile shook him out of his daze. Now, he had to look closer. Scrutinizing through the lowly lit room, he stared over.

There she was. In the middle of the room, thick dark hair pinned back to her veil, or headdress, or whatever it was. Will did not bother himself too much with the peripheries.

The first thing he noticed was her eyes, blue and burning like sapphires through the haze.

"Brother?"

Trenton"s voice brought him back to reality. Instead, he saw crowds encircling, ladies dressed to the nines watching him and giggling. It was all Will could do to hold a sigh.

A haughty blonde lady with a long nose peered curiously over.

"Lady Matilda De Vere," whispered Trenton. "Her ladyship"s only daughter. She is coming of age and looking to make a match. If you want, I could?—"

"No," said Will abruptly. He had not looked at the lady in question but had already tired of the occasion.

Trenton pouted. "Come, Brother. She only looks a bit like a horse!"

This got Will"s attention. Flustered, he looked around. "What?" he asked, perplexed. "Pray tell, what horse?"

"Matilda," said Trenton, looking point-blank at him. Will paused and frowned.

"Tilly the filly," hissed Trenton, as Will looked impassive. "Neigh!"

But Trenton"s point, if it could be called that, was massively lost. Instead, Will found his gaze returning to the raven-haired beauty in the center of the room.

She seemed to have a swarm of men around her, every one of them intent on getting close to her.

"Anyhow, I said you would take her for a spin," Trenton continued. But Will"s eyes had glazed over. They did this a lot when Trenton was talking.

Clearing his throat, color came into Trenton"s pale cheeks. "So, what say you, Brother? Are you going to ride her?"

He winked impetuously, but Will still was not listening. Instead, his eyes glistened. The dark-haired girl was wending her way over. For a moment, Will"s eyes widened. Just for a moment, he thought she was coming over for him.

Naturally, she did not. Instead, the alluring girl and her lengthy train glided straight past him, barely aware of his existence.

Of course, she did. Because why, Will asked himself rhetorically, would she do anything else? Shaking his head, Will looked away. It would not do to stare. Instead, he let his head drop and got a vague glimpse of a girl with skin as smooth as velvet.

Trenton cast his head at his brother. "Anyhow, like I said, I have arranged everything for you," he said. His eyes were surveying the carousing room. Suddenly, it seemed like every man had found a match—and Trenton was anxious to join them. Pulling his brother"s arm, Will jolted out of his dreams.

"You need to get out there, Will," Trenton urged. And when he looked less than thrilled, Trenton reminded him. "You promised Mother and Mary, remember?"

Mary.

A vision of his younger sister"s face came before him. If he were not successful, she would not marry. And that would never do.

So, straightening his shoulders, Will reluctantly looked up.

"Yes," he said, checking himself. Dismally, he looked around the crowded hall. The fiddlers had struck a note and were playing—incredibly noisily—beside him. "Yes, yes, you are right. I should get out there."

Will"s eyes swept the busy room. Everywhere, he looked for a trace of her. Except she had gone. Demoralized, he looked at Trenton.

"Except how?" he asked. It took him some swallowed pride to admit it, but he hardly had a glowing record with members of the opposite sex. "All the ladies are dancing now."

Placing his arms around his brother"s shoulders, Trenton grinned.

"Leave it with me, Brother. Leave it with me, for I have already secured you an audience with the ladies."

Will"s eyebrows slanted at the mention of ladies.

"More than one?" he asked, his heart being thrown into a panic. Seeing his face, Trenton laughed.

"Calm yourself, Brother. The trick is to spread yourself very thin and have them begging for more. Here, I have taken the liberty of sending a message out to a number of them."

Taking a slug of his wine, Will tried his hardest to relax into the idea. He had to do something. He needed to calm down a little.

"Very well," he said, trying not to panic.

"There," said Trenton, proffering forth a note. He unfurled the parchment in his hand. "I have an acceptance for a dance. That"s all," he added with a wink. "From this lady. Perchance, you can track her down."

Will took the parchment as Trenton smiled archly. He sensed he was enjoying his new role as matchmaker. There was one problem.

"Who is she, this lady?" said Will, bringing his perfect brow into a frown. But before he could get a reply, Trenton had vanished.

Will was left staring there, into the open, as a literal merry hell swirled about him.

* * *

"El…Ellen?Or Alice? Maybe Evelin? God"s tooth! I will never be able to find this woman!"

Poor Will was bereft, cast into the middle of the hall, carousing dames all around. Every now and then, one of them would shimmy past him, sending a look of quizzical pity.

Naturally, Trenton was nowhere to be found. Will felt a pit in his heart open up. Trenton disappearing was never good news. The last time this had happened, he reappeared in the stables with a comely serving maid. The ensuing scandal had rocked London, and he was only just beginning to recover.

As Will glanced about, wondering how to find this enigmatic female, he almost tripped headfirst into the melee. As he attempted to get up, a sky-high chopine intercepted him.

Then, the shoe"s careless owner careered straight into his hand.

It took all of Will"s strength not to cry out. Instead, he confined himself to coughing in a manly fashion.

"I beg your pardon, madam," said Will politely. Very slowly, he got to his feet. Brushing himself down, he reflected on the madness of having to apologize for someone else stepping on him.

He was still brushing himself down and had not quite risen when he noticed the lady who had stamped on him. Staring up at the bright eyes, he got a jolt of shock.

It was her!

"Och!" spluttered the woman. At least, that was what it sounded like. Will did not quite get time to decipher what she had said—if, in fact, she had said anything. Will wondered if it had been a sneeze. The woman rushed to speak an avalanche of vowels that did not resonate with Will"s ears. Then, as she was halfway through what he supposed was an apology, she stopped, placing her hand on her mouth.

Will wondered if she was sick.

"Madam?" he inquired politely. The woman"s face was cupped as if she was having the vapors, or perhaps about to go into a swoon. Wondering if she needed steadying, he brought his hand to her shoulder just lightly, but enough to secure her from her faint.

"Dear lady, how are you feeling? Come, pray, sit a while!"

Without waiting for her response, he took the dazed girl"s hand and led her to one of the benches. There, the girl sat down, a little unsurely, as Will handed her a glass.

"Drink this, miss," he said, as politely as he could muster. Yet, all the while, he could not help staring closer at her.

Now that he had her to himself, he was not disappointed. Close up, she was even more alluring than at a distance. Bringing his eyes to hers, Will found himself smiling.

"Better?" he asked, as she drained the small goblet of wine. In hindsight, perhaps more wine was not the best thing to give to an overwrought girl, but it was the only thing to hand.

Finishing the last drop of the claret, the woman nodded. Neatly, she dotted her mouth with a handkerchief from her person. For the briefest of minutes, Will glanced oddly at it.

His brows drew together. That was funny. It looked extraordinary like one of his.

Handkerchiefs like that, fine and laced, were not so common. Anyhow, before he had any chance to think about it further, she had folded it away and sat there smiling.

The lady nodded to answer his question, but Will noted she did not actually speak. He was about to ask if she had a sore throat, but then thought the better of it.

The table was deserted; all the guests were now up on their feet and joining in the dancing. The ones that were not stood earnestly off to the sides, talking.

No one was around to witness their conversation, yet for some reason, that only led to it being more stilted.

"Do you come from afar, milady?" inquired Will courteously. He had to say something. The fact was, being there alone with this beauteous lady was giving him demonic thoughts.

Suddenly, he could not get the vision of her scented touch out of his mind. In his head, they were kissing just like that—no warning, no preamble. And in the fetid depths of his imagination, they were already on to the next course.

Her breasts were spread pert and trim like the final dish in the sumptuous ball.

Will blanched. Now he had gotten that thought into his head, it was never going to be dislodged. Furiously, he blinked, hoping to stop the tsunami of passion from unleashing.

Her eyes were just watching him. As if he were mad. Perhaps he was. He certainly felt it then. Heart racing, Will wondered just what she was doing to him and how this had happened.

Was she a witch?

And she did not speak; The question that Will had asked seemed to die in the air as the girl just gazed at him. Her eyes were half-filled with horror.

Was he that repellent?

About a million thoughts raced through Will"s head at that moment, and precisely none of them were appropriate. To cover up for his own racing heart rate, he coughed again and said, "I do not wish to trouble you, miss. Just see that you fare well..."

His eyes widened plaintively. As much as he wanted to sit with her, he feared others" eyes watching.

Just answer, please, miss!thought poor Will, the palms of his hands sweating.

Finally, the woman smiled and nodded. Vaguely, she murmured something beneath her breath, allowing Will, at last, to breathe out.

She was smiling. Will could not help beaming in the reflection of her smile. She had one of those smiles it was impossible to ignore, like being in the full glow of the sun.

"Hoo! That"s a relief! What say, you dance with me to make certain, though?"

A slight smile snaked around Will"s mouth. He was not supposed to do this. It was not part of the script, but all he had to go on was his brother"s half-legible scribbles, and he would never find this elusive woman.

The lady paused for a moment and then grinned. Wasting no more time, Will simply helped her up and led her by the hand into the dance.

There, time stopped. At least, it felt like it did.

As the fiddlers worked themselves into a frenzy and the singers" melodies became roused, Will and the girl caroused in unison.

There was an excitement in her that Will had seldom seen before. Casting an eye over the great hall, Will noticed many comely girls, but none of whom had the vivacity and sheer sleight of movement of this woman. And just as he was bowled out and genuinely amazed by her sheer grace, she stood on him.

Again.

And this time, it hurt!

"Och!" puffed the girl, her cheeks filling with color. "I dinnae ken where to put my feet. I"m awful sorry!"

She bit her lip as if afraid, and it was all Will could do not to laugh. He was about to tell her not to worry when she shut up like a clam, as if she had said too much.

Worried that he had put her off, Will tried his hardest not to laugh. A bewildered look had come upon her. They finished their dance, Will marveling at the lightness of her turn, and wishing fervently for more.

"Thank you, my lady," said Will formally, as the music stopped and men waited to step away and on to the next partner.

She just smiled, as if she was battling something and could not speak out. All Will wanted was to pull her close and ask her for another dance.

But he had already been promised. Clutching the scrappy parchment in his hand, he sighed reluctantly. Even so, his impetuous side won.

"Milady, perchance you could promise me another dance once I have discovered this lady here on the parchment." Will smiled, but his brow clouded with vague discontent.

Seeing his face, the girl looked up, uncertain.

"Oh, you could help me," said Will, thrusting the paper toward her. "I cannot make head nor tail of it. My brother"s handwriting is the devil"s own."

Curious, the girl took the parchment, which she used as a fan. Glancing quickly at it, she pointed to herself, then grinned.

"Pardon?" said Will, as the girl smiled. Once again, he had time to admire her pure skin and rosy, fair complexion. Her jeweled eyes sparkled at him deeply. And her thick dark hair had begun to be teased out of her headdress.

Will was glad.

He did not care for those things; a lady"s natural hair was far more alluring to him. Then, the girl"s eyes jumped. She pointed at the paper.

"Me," she mouthed. Why didn"t she speak to him? Was there something wrong with her?

Will shook his head as the girl replied, "Elisabeth." She smiled. "That"s me!" She kept her voice in a low whisper, but it crackled with amusement. Then, just as he was digesting this info, she suddenly took off into the crowd and was gone.

"Elisabeth?" mouthed Will limply. He took the paper, scrutinizing it for the first time, and read the name again. "Lady Elisabeth? Perchance Lissie."

Will was open-jawed. He could not believe that this was the lady he had been chasing all along! Beneath his breath, he gave a low whistle.

Then, a thump below the shoulder blades made him suddenly turn around.

"Will!"

Will looked. Of course, it was Trenton, looking more than usually pleased with himself. Which was a lot.

Behind him was a pudding-faced wench. Will recognized her vaguely, but did not know her name. She kept her distance, giggling.

"Tally ho! So, you found her, the little Scottish hen?"

"Scottish?" Will asked. He had not been expecting this. Then again, he could barely hear her, and she had not given anything away about herself. Hoping she had not heard herself being discussed so bluntly, Will glanced about.

The girl was gone. A mixture of relief and disappointment flooded him. But he had questions.

From deep in his heart, something stirred. Why was it significant that she was Scottish? He did not know, only that in his heart, he felt nothing would come of it.

Even if there was a chance, he did not imagine his mother approving of such a match.

"Och aye!" said Trenton, taking off the Scottish accent. "Quite the curiosity, what ho!" he quipped. Will noted it was Trenton"s usual type: posh, mousy, and with flanks on her like a Flemish mare.

"I-I could not hear her speak," said Will, wondering bleakly where she had gone. The dancing had recommenced, and a steady trickle of females was waiting to pair with him.

One of them—Lady Eleanor"s daughter, Tilly—was first in the queue.

"She was a little hoarse," Will explained.

Trenton nudged Will swiftly.

"And here comes another!" he said with a grin.

"Lady Matilda," Will exclaimed, smiling. Trying his hardest to look pleased, he led the stiff girl into the dance, but could not help comparing her heavy step with Lady Elisabeth"s graceful demeanor.

Dutifully, he danced with her, his mind on other things. Where had the Scottish girl disappeared to? And why did she run away like that?

Will"s sense of intrigue stirred. There was much he wanted to know about this strange girl. But would he ever see her again?