The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables Book 2) (10 page)

He stopped and turned with her, intent on taking her back. But he was frozen. By her floral-and-spice scent. By the lovely contours of her face as the lanterns’ light spilled over her. By the open, guileless intensity of her gaze.

She looked back toward the ballroom. “Anyway, I understand why I can’t. But I like your plan. Especially if I get to shoot again.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let me sort out the particulars. You’ll need to work out how to leave your house as a gentleman in daylight.”

She tossed him a concerned glance. “Oh dear, that
is
a problem. I’ll come up with something.”

He guided her back to the door to the ballroom. “Then we both have assignments. We shall share our plans when I see you night after next. Unless you’d prefer to cancel that appointment.”

“No. That will give us each time to plan, as you said.” They neared the ballroom. “Thank you.”

“Shall I deliver you somewhere?” he asked, anxious to be gone. Now that he’d accomplished his goal, he wanted to leave. Never mind dancing with Miss Knox.

She withdrew her arm from his. “That isn’t necessary. Thank you for the dance.”

“Thank you. You’ve quite satisfied my dancing requirements for the next year at least.”

She smiled again, and he was glad he’d come. It had been worth seeing her like this, even if he was a damn fool for thinking so.

“You’ve done the same for me. Two years, probably.” She shrugged. “Maybe even for a lifetime.”

She had to be joking, but something about the statement rang true. He wanted to say that wouldn’t happen, but then he recalled that she didn’t wish to marry either. And she hadn’t been eager to dance with him. Quite the contrary. It seemed they were birds of a feather, and didn’t that make her even more dangerous than she’d been in that dark corner on the terrace? He’d looked at her out there and for a brief moment had wanted to sweep her into his arms and see if she tasted as good as she smelled and as delicious as she looked.

He bowed. “Good evening, then.”

She curtseyed. “Good evening.”

He strode from the ballroom as if the flames of hell licked at his feet. If he wasn’t careful, things could progress to a place he didn’t want them to. He took a deep breath. They wouldn’t.

He and Miss Parnell had a temporary association. She would earn the funds she needed, and then she would be gone from his life.
 

He would go back to his solitary, carefree existence where he wasn’t threatened by loss or pain.
 

Or love.

L
ucy didn’t make it ten steps back toward Aquilla before a gentleman asked her to dance the next set. Shocked, she said yes. As soon as they finished, another gentleman—a baronet—requested the next. She wanted to decline, but after years of seeking dance partners and nearly always coming up short, she didn’t really know how.

Finally, when the music ended, Lucy dashed back to Aquilla before another gentleman could corner her. Aquilla was still there and had been joined by their friend Ivy Breckenridge.

Lucy glanced around and saw that another gentleman was coming toward them. She tugged at both Aquilla’s and Ivy’s hands. “Quickly, we must find the retiring room.”

Aquilla grinned broadly. “Yes, let’s. I want to hear everything! This is your most successful night
ever
—and just when you need it most.”

Lucy wanted to scowl, but she’d wait until they were out of the ballroom. “This is not at all what I need.”

They exited the ballroom and made their way to the retiring room.

“I don’t understand,” Ivy said, “Aquilla told me you must find a husband immediately because you’re out of money.”

Lucy tossed an exasperated glare at Aquilla. “That’s all you told her? You didn’t bother mentioning that I have no interest in finding a husband?”

Aquilla shrugged, not the least bit bothered by Lucy’s irritation. “I assume you’ll come around.”

Lucy groaned and then stopped short. “I don’t want to go to the retiring room, where people could overhear us.”

Ivy took the lead. “This way.” She guided them to a small sitting room, closing the door behind them as they went inside. “Lady Dunn and I mistakenly found ourselves in here after we arrived. The retiring room is farther down the corridor, so we learned.”

Lucy looked around the chamber, which was lit with two lanterns. The hearth was dark and cold.
 

Aquilla must’ve noticed the same things, for she said, “The lanterns seem to invite company; however, the lack of a fire to provide warmth seems to do the opposite.”

“It’s set for an assignation,” Ivy said, her distaste evident in the curl of her lip.

“Is it?” Aquilla asked as she strolled into the room and touched the back of one of the pair of ivory settees. “How do you know?”

“I just do.” Ivy turned to Lucy. “I was surprised when Aquilla told me you were seeking a husband. I thought we were of a similar mind on that topic.”

Ivy had as much interest in wedlock as Lucy did, which was to say none. In fact, Ivy was even less interested, if that were possible. Whereas Lucy had once hoped for success on the Marriage Mart, Ivy had never even tried. She’d been a lady’s companion for as long as Lucy and Aquilla had known her—and was quite content with her lot.

“My grandmother wants me to find a husband. She wishes to retire to Bath, and does not have enough money to support me.” Lucy allowed the scowl she’d earlier repressed to come forth. “If I’d had any idea we were wasting money with these fruitless Seasons, I would’ve packed us off to Bath years ago.”

Aquilla turned and looked at Lucy, her blue eyes bright and sympathetic. “Come now, it hasn’t been that bad, has it? We’ve had fun, I hope.”

Lucy regretted her earlier annoyance. She went and took her friend’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. “We’ve had plenty of fun. I am grateful to you both for making it tolerable.” She smiled at Ivy, who’d gone to stand near the cold fireplace.

Ivy nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Well, if you don’t mean to marry, what
is
your plan? I’m certain you could take up as a lady’s companion with little effort.”

Lucy had considered that, but the truth was that she didn’t like the idea of having to answer to someone else. She enjoyed the independence that life with her grandmother offered, particularly their time away from London. After her father’s death, when they’d had to move away from Stonewood, they’d spent the Season in London and the rest of the year near Bath. It was where she and Grandmama were most comfortable and why Grandmama wished to move there permanently.

For Lucy, she spent as much time outside as possible—walking, swimming, shooting, riding, if she could borrow a horse. She wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if she were a lady’s companion.

She tipped her head to the side, weighing whether she ought to tell them both what she was doing. “I don’t think I’d make a very good companion.”

Aquilla glided toward her, the silk of her beautiful new aqua-colored ball gown swirling around her ankles as she moved. “Lucy does indeed have some other plan.” She glanced toward Ivy, her mouth pursed. “Not that she’s saying what it is.”

Ivy arched a red-gold brow at Lucy and crossed her arms. “Is that so? You’re keeping secrets?”

Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Ivy was the most secretive among them. No, secretive wasn’t the right word. She was…guarded. She spoke very little of her family, and when she did, it was brief and with disdain. Lucy and Aquilla had always wanted to know more—such as how Ivy had become as polished and educated as if she’d been prepared for Society—but Ivy didn’t encourage those kinds of discussions. She always said she preferred to focus on the present and the future, that the past was precisely where it belonged. Lucy and Aquilla surmised that she’d buried some deep hurt, but didn’t know what it was.

“Yes,” Aquilla answered for her. She too had crossed her arms, making Lucy feel as though she were being chastised.

She pinned Aquilla with a mutinous stare. “Is it a secret if I say I plan to tell you?”

Aquilla, never one to willfully cause discomfort, threw her hands up. “No. And I’m sorry for badgering you.” She smiled encouragingly at Lucy, then darted a look at Ivy. “She’ll tell us in time.”

“Well, my curiosity is piqued,” Ivy said. “But I can be patient.”

Again, Lucy considered just telling them, but they’d say it was dangerous, and she’d have to explain that she had a protector in Dartford. She realized he was the piece she didn’t wish to disclose. Aquilla’s eyes would widen, and she’d titter about how wonderful that was and probably suggest that he could be her husband. While Ivy’s eyes would darken, and she’d frown. Then she’d caution Lucy, perhaps even saying that Dartford was anything but protection. To her, all men sought to seduce women into bed.

Neither one of her friends would understand Lucy’s current situation. So she didn’t tell them.

“I have a plan to make money so that I can retire with Grandmama. Things are going very well. I will tell you all about it soon.” When she had the necessary funds in hand, and they wouldn’t be able to try to talk her out of anything—because she’d be finished.

For some bizarre, unpleasant reason the thought of being finished with Dartford sparked a flash of annoyance. She liked him; that was all. And with him, she was able to do things she couldn’t, such as shoot at Manton’s. Their conversation from earlier came back to her, and she felt a rush of anticipation. To think that she could do that again—shoot at Manton’s—or any number of other things, filled her with excitement.

“Are we ready to return?” Aquilla asked. “Actually, I’m not at all certain why we left.”

Ivy looked at Lucy. “It seemed as though Lucy wanted to tell us something, but I would guess that is not the case.”

“No, I did want to talk to you, but mostly I wanted to leave before someone else could ask me to dance.”

Aquilla moved closer. “You didn’t like dancing? Lord Metcalf is an excellent dancer.”

The baronet who’d claimed the second set. Or third, if she counted her dance with Dartford. She’d liked
that
, if she was honest. Dartford’s touch had been warm and sure, masculine. What an odd thing to think. But with him, she’d felt feminine in a way she never had. Was it because he’d only ever seen her as a man, and tonight she’d been more aware of herself as a woman? Or was it the way he’d studied her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was a woman? Or that he was shocked to find she was an
attractive
woman?

“Lucy?” Aquilla’s voice drew her back from her musings.

“Yes, he’s an excellent dancer, but that isn’t the point.” Was she speaking of Dartford or Metcalf, she asked herself.
Metcalf
. She couldn’t think of Dartford right now. “I don’t want a husband, and all of this…attention is a nuisance.”

Ivy laughed, causing both Lucy and Aquilla to turn their heads. “Four years ago, you would’ve been ecstatic.”

“Well, it’s not four years ago. I am older and wiser, and I don’t have the patience for this now. Really, where were these nincompoops when I wanted them?”

Ivy laughed again, harder this time, and Lucy joined her, giggling. Belatedly, Lucy realized that Aquilla wasn’t laughing. She was watching them both with a slightly perturbed frown.

Lucy sobered and turned toward her friend. “Sorry. I know you’d love to have this attention, and if I could divert it toward you, I’d do so in a trice.”
 

Ivy joined them and touched Aquilla’s arm. “I’ve never understood your desire to wed, but I support your happiness wholeheartedly.”

Aquilla exhaled. “It’s all right. None of that is your fault. I’m being ridiculously maudlin. We each have our own path, and none is better than the other.”

“Still, I’m being thoughtless,” Lucy said, wincing.

“No, you’re not. If you were, you’d still be laughing.” Aquilla smiled at both of them. “Truly, you are the two dearest friends anyone could want. Who needs a husband?”

Ivy grinned. “Indeed.” She turned her gaze to Lucy. “Do you plan to hide for the rest of the evening?”

Lucy sighed. “I suppose not.” She looked at Aquilla. “How late will Lady Satterfield wish to stay?”

“Not much past midnight, I should think.”

Lucy was relieved to hear it.