EPISODE NINETY FOUR A DISASTER WHILE DANCING

EPISODE NINETY FOUR

A DISASTER WHILE DANCING

M iles bowed before Daisy and placed his left hand on her back. His fingers tingled, and he found himself wrestling with an inappropriate wave of desire. Daisy may look like a pillar of salt, but she smelled like apple blossoms. Up close, her lips were utterly delectable: not port wine but sour cherries. Damn it.

She fit perfectly in his arms, moving fluidly backward as he stepped forward, both of them following the steps with easy skill.

Are you insulted? Daisy asked.

Miles shook off the effect of her smile. Insulted by what?

I believe Lady Castlereigh implied that your silvered hair makes you a respectable escort to waltz with me.

I do not have silvered hair!

Daisy squinted at his head. Not yet.

She implied that you are a minx, he pointed out.

I suppose I should be insulted, but unlike adultery, I m not certain of the qualifications for a minx. Do I simply flirt? Her expression was

She was flirting with him.

She probably flirted with everyone. Miles instinctively tried to rein in his body s enthusiastic response to the twinkle in her eye, the twinkle that suggested she found him desirable. The twinkle that made him want to kiss her here, on the dancefloor, which would be insanity.

Still, he instinctively drew her closer, their legs brushing as they moved through the steps of the waltz. Even all those layers of satin couldn t disguise her high, plump breasts, distractingly close to his chest as she leaned into his embrace. Stop it, minx, he said, his voice dropping to a growl.

Her laughter washed over him like music. They had reached the bottom of the long ballroom, so he turned her in a circle, and then another for the pure delight of it. She swirled with perfect grace, an impudent smile curling the edges of her mouth.

Hunger made him shudder-No, that was disdain, Miles told himself hastily. He couldn t be feeling more than garden-variety lust for a woman as impulsive as Daisy. She was not only impulsive, but reckless.

Right now, that didn t sound like a defect in a wife. In fact, as more strands of moonlit hair fell to her shoulders, marriage seemed like a very good idea, because he could kiss her every time she looked at him with that expression.

No.

She laughed too much to be his wife. Too often.

Often at him .

So, shall we discuss politics? Daisy asked in an interested voice. Wait, let s not. I don t know anything about the subject, and I m not in the mood for a lecture. Have you ever read a novel?

Miles shook his head. He couldn t think of anything to say other than a blunt and impractical statement: I want you. Not as a wife-just because she was the most carnal woman of his acquaintance.

Now you, she commanded as they made one final turn and headed back up the long ballroom. Ask me something.

Other women danced like sticks, their backs straight and their limbs rigid. Was it possible to dance and strut at the same time?

He cleared his throat. How are you faring?

Given my lack of suitors, you mean?

Actually, I was referring to your uncle s courtroom battle and subsequent demise.

Daisy pursed her lips, sending a wave of lust down Miles s legs. Damn it.

I m all right. Careful of my skirts, she added.

As the music drew to a close, he fell back just in time to allow her to sweep the panels that made up her gown to the side. The satin flattened against her legs. Her breasts were magnificent: not just plump but heavy, breasts that would overflow a man s hands.

He glanced over, catching the gleaming eyes of a man ogling Daisy s body. Miles s blood went cold as he drew her close enough that she was obscured from his gaze.

The man stepped sideways. Good evening, Miss Wharton. I hope to escort you to supper.

Good evening, Mr. Hemlock, Daisy said. May I introduce you to Lord Devin?

Evening. The answer is no, Miles told the lout. He spun Daisy away from Hemlock, but unfortunately his foot caught the hem of her skirt, and he heard a distinct ripping sound. He looked down Daisy s back and saw, bared to general view, two generous globes, lightly veiled by a translucent chemise. Enough satin panels had separated from her bodice for her entire rear to be exposed.

He turned her around again, so her back was to the wall. Given Daisy s calm expression, she hadn t registered the ripping sound, nor realized that half her gown was missing.

What on earth are you doing? she inquired. She came up on her toes and craned her neck to see over his shoulder. Mr. Hemlock, perhaps we could dance later this evening.

Miles turned his head and gave the man a deadly glare. Not being an entire fool, Hemlock fell back.

Yes, later, he exclaimed, skittering away.

Don t ever dance with him, Miles ordered. I recognize his name. It was in connection with the Earl of Debbleton s charge for for Too late he realized that he could not inform a young lady precisely what the earl had been accused of, as it was one of the unsavory cases he d been asked to investigate for the House of Lords.

I read about it, Daisy said coolly. The earl built a playhouse with a proscenium stage, the better to personally perform with a hired troupe of actresses. I gather the plays they chose to enact were of an unusual type.

Miles blinked down at her. Does nothing shock you?

The murder of Jeremy Tulip shocked me, Daisy said. In comparison, the Earl of Debbleton s criminality seems not only trivial but downright dull. Why should I care what he does in the privacy of his own estate?

His wife cared.

Likely she had any number of reasons to be offended, Daisy agreed. But does that mean their marital problems should occupy the gossip columns? What did Mr. Hemlock have to do with it?

He was charged with procurement.

Her brows drew together. It seemed that there was something this sophisticated young lady didn t know.

He allegedly supplied the earl with young women from the provinces who came to London seeking their fortunes but were forced to perform on that particular stage.

She winced. That s revolting.

Didn t you say it was merely a private matter?

I take your point, Lord Devin. Those poor young women. I shouldn t have ventured an opinion when my knowledge was so shallow.

Daisy had shocked him again. Almost no one of his acquaintance would admit to being wrong. Her uncle, for example, had blustered about his innocence whenever their paths crossed during the murder trial. Miles considered his apoplectic fit the result of outrage when no one agreed with him.

Off to one side, a footman picked up the white satin panels torn from Daisy s gown. He draped them over his arm, likely thinking they made up a lady s shawl, and walked away before Miles could catch his eye.

Jolted by the reminder of precisely why they were standing together, Miles said, Miss Wharton, I didn t keep you here merely because of Mr. Hemlock s association with Debbleton.

Daisy raised an eyebrow. I was beginning to wonder, since Lady Regina will be waiting to dine with you. I should find my mother.

You can t move, Miles said.

Actually, I must move or you , Lord Devin, will find yourself embroiled in a scandal. Perhaps you haven t noticed, but a good half of the ballroom is fascinated by the marked attention you have been paying me this evening. Gossipers are not privy to your horror at that idea and may assume that you are courting me.

I am not horrified, Miles snapped. In fact, he was shockingly close to announcing his intentions, despite all his best instincts.

She looked up at him with a curious expression, somewhere between skepticism and surprise.

Miles cleared his throat. Be that as it may, you mustn t leave at this moment.

At that, Daisy s brows drew together. I have the greatest dislike for orders, Lord Devin. Goodbye. She stepped sideways and turned to go.

Instinctively his eyes dropped to her arse. It was-his arms shot out and caught her, pulling her back against the wall.

Lord Devin! Her eyes sparked with anger. Your behavior is quite unacceptable. We both know that you don t wish to have your name linked with mine. Even if you hadn t said so earlier, I could have surmised that from the condescending remarks that you ve made to me over the last year or so. I labeled you my suitor out of pure mischief, to see if you would turn white with fear. She paused. Which you did.

You misunderstood.

Daisy shrugged. I found that idea amusing, but I am no longer amused. I do not wish my name to be linked to yours any more than you wish for the reverse.

In one fluid motion she twisted away from him again, exposing her near-naked bottom to the room. Without thinking, Miles stepped forward and pressed his front directly against her back.

And backside.