To Pleasure a Prince (6 page)

She merely took it and smiled.
Smiled,
for God’s sake! If he hadn’t known what she and her brother were up to, that smile would have knocked him back on his heels. But he wasn’t about to let it. Bad enough that the mere touch of his hand on her arm was stirring very ungentlemanly…thoughts.

As they headed down the hall, she murmured, “I suppose that comment about the virgins was your idea of a joke?”

“I merely said what everybody was thinking.” He cast her a sly glance. “Why? Have you decided you’re capable of being embarrassed after all?”

“No, but Louisa is.”

He groaned. Damn, the woman knew just how to get at him. But Louisa was the reason he was enduring this torture, though she might not appreciate it at the moment. “I’ll do my best not to shame her.”

He’d do his best, all right…to separate his sister from that devil Foxmoor. And if that meant subjecting Louisa to a little public embarrassment and crushing his unwanted physical attraction to Lady Lofty, then so be it. In the end, Louisa would thank him.

A lady can enjoy any party where the company is well-mannered, sprightly, and amiable.

—Miss Cicely Tremaine,
The Ideal Chaperone

A
fter fifteen minutes at the soiree, Regina wanted to lecture nearly every person present. After thirty, she wanted to strangle them. And these people were the nicer members of society—they should at least tolerate Lord Draker to be polite. Yet they either gave him a wide berth, as if he had the pox, or insulted him within his hearing, as if he were invisible.

Nor was he any help whatsoever. The cooler they were, the more snide he became. If the scoundrel weren’t so huge, she’d rap his knuckles with her fan. He probably wouldn’t even feel it, the big lout.

As if matters weren’t bad enough, he now stood with that notorious Mr. Byrne, his supposed half brother. His lordship wasn’t satisfied with shoving his scruffy appearance in people’s faces—oh no, he had to remind them that only the previous viscount’s indulgence had saved him from being a bastard in the truest sense. God forbid Lord Draker should let sleeping dogs lie—that would be too easy.

Only half-paying attention to the Marchioness of Hungate beside her, who nattered on about some outrage, Regina stole a glance at them. When Lord Draker cast her a smug smile, she narrowed her eyes. He was actually enjoying the results of his churlish appearance and behavior. Why didn’t he understand that he only made things worse for himself?

He murmured something to his half brother, then headed toward her, and she jerked her gaze away. Wonderful. Now he was coming over
here
to wreak havoc. Just what she needed to improve her mood—the sour Lady Hungate
and
the surly Lord Draker sniping at each other.

“What is wrong with young people today?” Lady Hungate complained. “They pay no attention to the proprieties. In
my
day, girls couldn’t go riding with young gentlemen until their come-out. Yet I heard that Miss Spruce was actually seen in the park with Mr. Jackson last week. She’s not out yet, is she?”

“No,” Regina said absently, only too aware of the viscount’s approach.

Lady Hungate glanced behind Regina, then lifted her lorgnette to study Lord Draker with a moue of disgust. “And in my day, good grooming was a requirement for anyone going into society.”

Before Regina could retort, Lord Draker said, “In
your
day, gossips were horsewhipped in the square. You should be glad we’re
not
in your day, madam.”

Lady Hungate sniffed. “Well, I never—”

“No, you never were, more’s the pity.”

That finished her off. With a glance at Regina that said, “How dare you inflict this person on us?” the marchioness swept off to find better company.

Regina couldn’t decide whether to be impressed at how effectively he’d silenced the irritating Lady Hungate or annoyed by the rude methods he’d used to do it. “I think you enjoy being a bear.”

“Every bear-baiting needs one. I’m only giving them what they want—somebody for them to sharpen their claws on.” He eyed her closely. “Don’t tell me you
like
listening to the old battle-ax complain.”

“Even if I don’t,” she said primly, “I am not so rude as to—”

“Remind her that it’s equally rude to gossip? No, apparently I’m the only one you lecture. I don’t see you pointing out their rude behavior to
them.”

“They’re only being rude because you are.”

“No, they’re being rude because they’re ignorant and shallow and don’t have a thought in their heads beyond the latest rumors and fancy fashions.”

No doubt he included
her
in that assessment, drat him. “Perhaps. But the proper way to deal with ignorant people is to brush off their gossip with witty retorts—not vicious insults. If you’d turn the rumors to your advantage by making jests of them, people would stop baiting you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to manage me, madam?’

She snorted. “You must be joking. You’re the most unmanageable man I’ve ever met. I’m only trying to help.”

His eyes blazed at her. “I don’t need your help, damn it.”

Lady Iversley’s announcement that the concert was beginning prevented her from retorting. Not that he would have listened. Lord Draker was the most pigheaded man she’d ever met. And how was she to improve his standing in society when he fought her every attempt? He’d said he wanted her to smooth the way, and now he rejected all her suggestions. She did not understand him.

Regina took her seat. To her surprise, he took the one next to her. When he dropped heavily into it, however, she could barely keep from pointing out that he didn’t have to throw himself into chairs like a lumbering dragon who couldn’t keep his tail straight. Not that he would listen to that, either. He took direction badly. Sometimes she even admired him for it. A pity that no one else would.

At least he would cause no trouble while Louisa was singing. Clearly, he thought the world of his sister. So why didn’t he try harder to behave at her party?

As soon as the music began, Regina relaxed. Music was her favorite enjoyment. She turned to her harp whenever she needed to be soothed, though she could only play it by ear since she couldn’t read notes. Thankfully, she had a talent for picking out melodies. And she loved hearing any sort of song, especially when the performer sang as beautifully as Louisa.

After the second piece, Regina glanced over to see Lord Draker smiling proudly at his sister. Something clutched at her heart. Just now, he didn’t look the least bit forbidding. He looked surprisingly young.

She did some figuring in her head. Why, he couldn’t be more than thirty-one, only seven years older than she. Did he really mean to molder out at Castlemaine for the rest of his life? What a waste.

He caught her watching him, and something flickered in his eyes—something scorchingly wild, and so raw it sparked an unfamiliar and oddly delicious tingle along her spine. Whoever had said that music soothed the savage breast had never met Lord Draker.

Because the way he looked at her now was decidedly savage. No man had ever dared to rake her with his gaze like that, yet she did not find it offensive. If anything, it made her wonder…

With a blush, she jerked her gaze from his. But her powerful awareness of his presence beside her only heightened as the hour wore on. Every approving murmur in response to his sister’s playing resonated deep in Regina’s belly. Every time he shifted in the flimsy chair, she was reminded of how incredibly massive he was—broad back, impressive shoulders…exceedingly muscular thighs.

Nor did it help that he kept time to the music by tapping his fingers on those very thighs. Or that said thighs strained most impressively against the worn fabric of his outdated evening attire, making her wonder how it might feel to brush up against those thighs when one was dancing. Or perhaps when one was…being embraced. Or…kissed passionately…on the mouth and the throat and—

A hot flush flooded her cheeks. This was absurd—what sort of woman was she to have such flights of fancy about a man she hardly knew? She should be paying better attention to Louisa’s lovely singing.

When they came to the part where Louisa was supposed to play the harp, Louisa stood before the crowd and smiled. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I deviate from the program, but tonight is too special to resist. You see, a very dear member of my family also possesses a fine singing voice. I hope you’ll help me persuade my brother to join me in a duet.”

As Louisa began to clap, a smattering of lackluster applause echoed around them. Lord Draker muttered, “Damn the foolish girl.”

Regina cast him a sidelong glance. “Don’t you dare disappoint her.”

He glared at her. “Damn you both.” But he rose and strode to the front.

Regina settled back in her chair, curious to see if Lord Draker’s “talent” was genuine or the result of a doting sister’s fond imagination. As the song began and a rich baritone sounded in the room, Regina smiled to herself. Well, well, did wonders never cease? The dragon could actually sing.

It was very clever of Louisa to use that on his behalf. How better to soften the guests toward him than to illustrate Lord Draker’s talents?

The young woman had picked a fine song for him, too—“The Last Rose of Summer.” The rumble that made his speaking voice a menacing growl lent his singing voice the proper depth for the plaintive tune, and his somber countenance seemed perfectly appropriate for the sad lyrics about death and old age.

Clearly the audience appreciated the performance; they were rapt with attention. Even Regina, who considered herself something of a connoisseur of fine singing, was moved, especially when his voice swooped low, vibrating through her blood, reminding her of how he gazed at her sometimes.

As he was gazing at her now. Her breath caught in her throat. When he sang of reflecting “back her blushes,” she felt a fresh blush rise in her cheeks. And when he finished with the mournful line, “Oh! who would inhabit this bleak world alone!” she wanted to leap up to assuage his loneliness.

Sweet heaven, what a performance! Nor was she the only one affected. As the last notes died, the audience held their breath one aching moment before breaking into enthusiastic applause.

To her delight, Lord Draker actually looked flummoxed by their response. Murmuring a gruff thank-you, he started to return to his seat.

But his beaming sister stayed him. “Don’t go yet. You must sing another.”

He shook his head. “No one wants to hear me again, angel, but perhaps one of the other ladies will oblige you.” His gaze swung to Regina. “Lady Regina might be willing to grace us with a song.”

As a burst of applause sounded around Regina, she could only stare at Lord Draker with her heart fluttering. Did he truly want to hear her sing, or was he just choosing this way out of another performance?

“Yes,” Louisa prodded. “Lady Regina must sing.”

The growing applause made it impossible for her to refuse, as did the burning look his lordship leveled on her.

As she rose to walk toward the front, Louisa added, “But the two of you must sing a duet. Oh, do sing ‘Tho’ You Think By This to Vex Me.’ Lady Regina has just the right voice for it, and it’s my favorite.”

Regina faltered. She knew most of the standard pieces by heart, but the song Louisa wanted had over twenty-five lines that Regina hadn’t memorized. And Lord knew she couldn’t read them.

She continued toward the front more slowly. “No, not that one, Louisa, if you please. What about ‘Chastity, Thou Cherub Bright’?”

Louisa looked at her oddly. “But that’s not a duet.”

“Right. Then perhaps…er…how about…” Why couldn’t she think of a single duet she knew by heart?

“Is it my sister’s song choice you object to?” Lord Draker asked coldly as she frantically searched her blank mind. “Or her choice of partner for you?”

A stillness fell over the audience, fraught with tension. Regina’s panic increased. “It’s not…I mean…I merely don’t—”

“So it’s both.” He added in a sneering aside to the crowd, “La Belle Dame would never sing a duet, because that would require sharing the center of attention. And God forbid she should share it with a man, especially one who—”

“Lord Draker, an urgent message has come for you,” called a voice from the back. Everyone turned to see Lady Iversley wearing a forbidding scowl.

He narrowed his eyes. “From whom?”

“Your estate. It requires your immediate attention.” She leveled a quelling glance on the now-murmuring crowd. “But that’s no reason for the rest of you not to enjoy the performances. Please, Louisa, do play something for Lady Regina to sing. I’m sure everyone would love to hear her.”

When the viscount looked as if he might speak again, their hostess added tersely, “If you would just come with me, sir, I’ll take you to the messenger.”

Lord Draker glowered at Lady Iversley, but with an icy, “Excuse me,” marched out of the drawing room, leaving Regina shaking from head to toe in mortification.

It was swiftly followed by anger. What on earth was wrong with the man? Had he
no
sense whatsoever of proper public behavior? Granted, she had handled the situation badly. If she hadn’t acted so alarmed, he wouldn’t have pounced on her slip. But why must he always say such appalling things?

Look at the crowd—they were shocked. He’d just destroyed any gains Louisa had made for him. Even Lady Iversley’s quick thinking could not fix this.

Still, she refused to let the woman’s efforts be ruined. She moved to the pianoforte, where she murmured to Louisa, “Can you play ‘Chastity, Thou Cherub Bright’?”

Louisa nodded, then said in a decidedly cool under-tone, “Forgive me, but I didn’t realize you would object to singing with Marcus.”

“I don’t. I simply don’t know the other song well enough to perform it.”

Though Louisa looked skeptical, she said nothing as she played the introduction. Regina began to sing, but even her favorite tune couldn’t raise her spirits. If Louisa didn’t believe Regina’s protest, her brother surely wouldn’t. Nor would anyone else. They would assume that she’d deliberately insulted him.

But honestly, it wasn’t
all
her fault. He hadn’t even given her a chance to think of something else.

Frustration wound a knot in her belly. Since she refused to give up on Simon and Louisa, she must persist with his thorny lordship. Somewhere in that thick head of his, he
must
know how to be a gentleman. She simply had to appeal to his better nature. She knew he had one; no man could sing that soulfully without having a soul.