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Authors: Suzanne Quill

BOOK: An Improper Seduction
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Chapter 22

Geoffrey strolled around yet another ballroom. It was the third such affair in the last four days. In the ten days he had been in town he had attended more soirees, routs and salons than he cared to credit. He had danced with more debutantes and widowed ladies than he thought could exist. And this was neither the Season nor the Little Season. What more hell would either of those hold?

It had become more than tedious.

Perusing the room, his gaze fell upon one available miss after another. If they happened to be looking his way, they invariably flashed him a coy smile.

As if that wasn’t obvious enough. He swore every eligible female of the
Ton
had been through the same courses in how to catch a husband. Did other men fall for such nonsense? None of his cronies who survived the war had.

Nor would he.

He must continue his search. If Angeline continued to refuse to wed, he must have an alternate plan. As loath as he was to take on the responsibility, there was no choice. Ronald’s death had forced his hand. He was the only one left to carry on the family name.

Damn the bastard.

His eyes continued the search. As his gaze met men of his acquaintance, he would nod. Other than that he stood still leaning against a column in an overly lit, hot and gauchely decorated ballroom.

If he were back at the estate, he could have spent his night making love to Angeline.

How much more pleasant would that be than this cursed search? And the business matters he had to tie up seemed to unravel as quickly as he handled them. Would it never stop?

Without realizing, his gaze had stopped on a particularly attractive female. It was not until she moved her head as she talked with her companions did he realize he had been aimlessly staring in her direction. When his vision focused he was surprised but pleased to see she was, indeed, a rose among a great many thorns.

And she happened to be speaking with an acquaintance of his.

Their eyes met across the crowded room and with a slight almost imperceptible tilt of her head, her acknowledgment gave him permission to approach.

He took his time circuiting the ballroom. There was no need to appear eager. After all, he was not.

When he came to her circle of admirers, her back was toward him. He cleared his throat.

“Geoffrey, Lord Colburn. It’s been an age since I have seen you.” The Viscount of Warren extended his hand and welcomed him to the small gathering. Besides the lady, there were three gentlemen in attendance.

“Marcus, it is my pleasure. How’s the leg?”

“Well, Geoffrey, I do tend to limp when the weather is bad, but I feel I got off lightly compared to many of the others. Do you know all of us here?” The viscount gestured to his companions.

Geoffrey nodded and shook hands with the gentlemen. “I of course know Michael, Lord Efrem, and John, Lord Sussex,” he turned to the lady. “But I have not had the pleasure of meeting this confection. Is she your wife, Marcus?”

A laugh was had by all. “One could only hope. This is Lady Summersborne.”

Geoffrey bent chivalrously over the lady’s hand as he kept her gaze. Cool blue eyes, not the warm green ones he had so been missing.

“My lord,” came the soft, cultured voice of the lady. “It is a pleasure to meet you. At last.”

“Have I been tardy, my lady?” he twitched his lips in his most rakish smile.

“Not really, but your name has been on the lips of every unattached female in the
Ton
for the last week. And their mothers are beside themselves with trying to have their daughters impress you.”

“Ah, it is difficult to be new meat on the market.” This brought another round of laughter as the orchestra returned from an intermission and a waltz was stuck.

“Do you waltz, my lady? May I ask for this dance?”

Lady Summersborne’s eyes shone with amusement. “Yes to both questions, my lord,” as she held out her hand.

She moved as one practiced in the dance. She was lithe and graceful in his arms. He pulled her as close as Society and their brief acquaintance would accept. She did not fit his hands as did Angeline.

But, then, Angeline was not there.

“It surprises me we have not met before, my lady.” Geoffrey swung her into a tight turn at the end of the room. She followed him with ease.

“Please, call me Vanessa, all my friends do.”

“And are we to be friends, then?” His eyes took in the soft arch of black eyebrows, high cheek bones, a straight nose and pouty lips.

“If you wish it, my lord.” She smiled up at him. But she was taller than Angeline.

“Have you no fears to acquaint a rake such as I?”

“Rumor has it you are on the market. Is it not true?”

“Alas, it is quite true, though not my personal preference. One hates being treated as a commodity. I do not know how the young chits stand it.” Approaching the other end of the floor, Geoffrey turned her again. She was led easily by his firm grip.

“Having been one of those chits a number of years ago, I can attest that we rarely have any choice in the matter. Since we are still in the charge of our parents and know no better ourselves, we willingly go like lambs to the slaughter impressed by glitter, gold and titles.”

Angeline had not been impressed by such materialistic things.

“You are married then, Countess?” She did have a fine light in those cool blue eyes. Intelligence and honesty lurked there.

“Widowed, my lord. My husband passed away just over a year ago. I am just now shedding my widow’s weeds to attend the
Ton
.”

“I am sorry, my lady. I did not wish to be indelicate.” Geoffrey looked away at the other dancers.

“He was of a great age, nearly three score ten when he died. He had a full life and died with little pain. Few could ask for more.”

“But you could not be more than a score and ten yourself, Countess.” Was she yet another who had been forced to marry for funds or a title?

“One score nine to be precise. We had ten years together.” She now turned her face from him. “And we have a son of five to show for it. Henry was very pleased to have an heir and he was generous to me for producing one.”

The music stopped and the two of them faced each other on the floor.

“May I call on you tomorrow, my lady?” Geoffrey liked this woman. She was not silly nor empty headed. She had tasted some of life and had endured some of its less tasteful demands.

“Only if you call me Vanessa, my lord.” She gave him a smile, not coy like the newly minted school chits fluttering about the room, but warm and sincere.

“As you wish, Vanessa. You can expect me round two in the afternoon. But you must call me Geoffrey.” If her smile could possibly become warmer, it did just then.

He escorted her back to the gentlemen who attended her and said his goodnights to them all.

The next day was warm and sunny, a great day for a ride and, possibly, a little courting.

Geoffrey was very pleased with himself as he handed Lady Summersborne, Vanessa, up into his curricle. She was stunning in an ice blue gown that emphasized a slender but well-endowed figure. He wondered if she would be as lush, as welcoming as Angeline under his hands.

He climbed in next to her and snapped the ribbons. In moments they were in the park.

“You cut quite the figure in town, my lord.” Vanessa seemed to enjoy the ride as she nodded to acquaintances they passed.

“I try not to make myself too apparent.”

“Ah, but you have failed. The first rumors I had of you I was still a wife. It was the married ladies of the
Ton
who spoke of your virtues and availability. The mamas cautioned their young daughters about being ruined by the likes of you.” She smiled up at him in something that could only be called a knowing way.

Geoffrey could feel the heat rise to his face. She had actually made him blush. He did not turn to meet her gaze but cleared his throat. “It is why I preferred the married ladies.”

“Quite. Kept your legs free of the marriage shackles. Then you became a marquess. The married women of my acquaintance lamented that.”

“How so?” he snapped the ribbons and steered the rig around the oncoming traffic.

“They knew it was only a matter of time when you would do the nice and take a bride. Obviously, since they were already committed, they would not be candidates for the position. Thus it was the mamas who rejoiced and gave their daughters new instructions.”

“And you know all this because?” He looked at her now and enjoyed the smiling sky-blue eyes that looked back at him. Was she toying with him?

“When Henry, my husband, died, I returned to London. His estates are far to the north and we had little reason to come to town, especially considering his age. But, after his passing, I did not wish to be alone in the cold north.

“Though I did not attend the balls and soirees, I did attend teas and visit my friends of the past. One hears things, if they pay attention.”

“And, evidently, you pay attention?”

“Of course. I have a new life to lead and a son to raise. He will be raised in Society and need a wife someday. As an earl he will be sought after. I wish him to make a good match.”

The course through the park taken, the courting begun, he drew the curricle up before her door. “As a good mother should. Not having a title most of my life, many cared not whether I matched at all. I served my country and did the family proud in such manner. As for a wife, none seemed to care a whit until I gained the title.” He tied the ribbons, climbed down and reached up for her. “Now, it seems, everyone has an opinion and is only too willing to give me guidance in their preferred direction.”

He set her on the ground. She weighed no more than Angeline despite her somewhat greater height. Escorting her up the stairs, he saw the door open and the butler hold it in place.

“It is quite a study, watching you, my lord. I am learning a great deal and it will be most helpful when my son is grown.”

“I am so pleased I can be of some minor service, my lady.” She turned and smiled up at him again. That slight, knowing smile. There was no doubt in his mind why there was a group of men in her train. She had charm, wit, grace and beauty. She would be a prize for any single man of the
Ton
.

“Will you be at the Sheffields’ tonight, Vanessa?” He surprised himself with the question but was hoping for an affirmative answer. She was the only other light he’d found in his quest for a wife.

Her eyes never left him. “That is the plan, my lord.”

“Geoffrey,” he said as he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“Geoffrey,” she rolled it off her tongue as if it were a caress.

“Tonight, then.”

“As you wish, Geoffrey.”

He released her hand and jumped back into his rig. When he turned to look back, she was entering the house, her back, straight as a ramrod, her derrière rounded and lush.

She did not look back at him.

The Sheffields’ was yet another overly bright and hot ballroom. It was at least tastefully decorated for the affair. He wondered what the women thought of when they designed the accoutrements for such activities.

He was there for only one purpose. Vanessa. His gaze searched the room for her and hoped his efforts would be rewarded.

She was seated in a royal blue settee across the room surrounded by the same three men from the previous night. One or more of them must be courting her. Maybe one of them was already her lover.

He strolled over and was greeted by the group. Her smile was warm and the glint was in her eyes.

“Lady Summersborne,” he said, ignoring the pokes in the ribs the other gentlemen were giving each other. “Would you care to take a turn around the room?”

“I would be delighted, my lord.” She stretched her hand up for his grasp.

They chatted easily for many minutes. He praised her ensemble, a blue-green gown with sedate ribbons under her breasts. She thanked him for the carriage ride earlier in the day.

They came to the open French doors at the end of the ballroom and he easily pulled her out onto the veranda.

“Will you walk with me in the garden, Vanessa?” He kept his voice controlled.

“Certainly, Geoffrey. The Sheffields are supposed to have a fabulous garden and I have never seen it before. I would assume they want to show it off since there are torches lighting the paths.”

“Then let us see their horticultural delights.” Tucking her hand in his elbow he led her down the stairs onto a bricked path. They walked silently for some time enjoying the warm summer breeze and the starry night above. When Geoffrey noted an unlit path to a secluded bower, he gently pulled her that way.

She gave no objection.

The scent of roses filled the air and the moonlight filtered through the leaves of the bower. When he felt they were alone and removed enough from the path, he drew her into his arms and leaned toward her to take her lips.

She gently pulled back and placed her gloved finger tips against his mouth.

“Geoffrey, first we must talk.”

“In a moment.” He took her hand away and kissed her.

She knew what she was about, after all she had been married for ten years. Hers was not the untutored kisses he had first shared with Angeline. She met him inch for inch. And when he ran his tongue over her lips she opened for him and met his tongue with her own.

She aroused him.

But there was not the fire he felt with his green-eyed Angeline.

“Geoffrey,” she whispered as he released her lips. “You must tell me what you are about. I have been married, as you know, so you can speak plainly. Are you just looking for a trifle while you find a bride?”

“No, Vanessa, I am looking for a bride.” He rubbed his lips against her ear. Her scent was different from Angeline’s. Hers was a scent of spice and honey. Attractive but different.

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