WANTON (24 page)

Aaron envied Lucas his ability, his grace, his athleticism, his charisma. On watching Lucas—so handsome and bold and magnetic—Aaron felt old and tired and used up. He wished he could dance with such abandon. He wished he could step out onto the middle of the floor and capture every eye in the room.

Instead, he and Priscilla were loitering in the corner, with her complaining about it being too hot to dance. Aaron had been happy to oblige her by sitting it out.

“What’s happening with them?” Priscilla demanded.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, clearly, they’re very close.”

“They are?”

“They’re madly in love!” she snapped. “Even a blind beggar could see it.”

Aaron assessed his brother and quickly realized that Priscilla was correct for once. Lucas was completely enchanted by Miss Hubbard, appearing joyful and content in a way Aaron hadn’t witnessed in him in years.

As for Miss Hubbard, she was staring back at Lucas with the same heightened regard, as if he was the most amazing man in the kingdom.

Aaron wondered what it would be like to have a woman gaze at him as if he walked on water, as if he could do no wrong. If he met a woman like that, if he jumped into an affair with her, what sort of person would he be when it was over?

“You told me Lucas would never wed Miss Hubbard,” Priscilla accused.

“It’s just a waltz, Priscilla.”

“
Just
a waltz?” she gasped. “If that’s what you think, you’re an even bigger fool than I imagined.”

She flounced away, and he sighed.

* * * *

“Would you look at that?”

“What?”

“Lucas Drake—with Miss Hubbard.”

“Lucas is dancing? Are you sure?”

Claudia was right next to Nanette Nipton. She hadn’t meant to be in such close proximity, but she’d turned and Mrs. Nipton was there. Claudia hadn’t meant to remark either, but she was simply so shocked she couldn’t hold it in.

The prior evening, George had said Lucas was leaving England and there would be no marriage to Miss Hubbard, despite how George had insisted. Now, this! Claudia couldn’t decide what to make of it.

Mrs. Nipton was glaring at the dancers, attempting to find Lucas in the spinning crowd.

“Who is Miss Hubbard?” she asked.

Claudia glanced over. “You don’t know? You haven’t heard?”

“No. Who is she?”

“Lord Sidwell betrothed him again. Miss Hubbard is his fiancée.”

“His fiancée!” Mrs. Nipton huffed. “He’s not engaged. He would have told me.”

“Lord Sidwell arranged it without informing him first.”

“Lucas wouldn’t have agreed,” Mrs. Nipton scoffed.

“No, he wouldn’t have,” Claudia concurred, “and it was my understanding that the betrothal was over, that they disliked each other so intently no union was possible.”

Lucas and Miss Hubbard took that moment to circle by. They were so utterly focused on each other, it was as if they were the only couple in the room, as if they were dancing to an orchestra only they could hear.

“This is not good,” Claudia muttered. “Not good at all.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. I was...thinking aloud.”

Claudia continued to study Lucas, and the longer she watched, the more concerned she became. She’d never seen two people so intimately attuned. Their affection was blatant and visible and absolutely deplorable. No member of the
ton
would ever display such a ridiculous amount of emotion. It was viewed as appalling conduct.

Nor could she believe Lucas had developed such strong sentiment for Miss Hubbard. He was a very thick-headed boy. Perhaps he didn’t realize he was in love with Miss Hubbard. Perhaps Miss Hubbard didn’t realize the level of her fondness either. All of London could observe their partiality. It was like a tangible object, hovering in front of everyone’s eyes.

Drastic measures had to be taken—and fast! Priscilla’s wedding was another month nearer, her grand day approaching with lightning speed. Claudia would not let Lucas undermine Priscilla’s triumph by bringing that paltry schoolteacher into the family. It would happen over Claudia’s dead body.

Surreptitiously, she assessed Mrs. Nipton, having always found the younger woman to be very beautiful, but in a lethal way, much like a poisonous spider that lures prey to its doom.

Lucas’s name had been linked to hers for years, so there had to be some kind of committed relationship between them. Mrs. Nipton couldn’t be any happier about the pending debacle than Claudia. Mrs. Nipton had to want to prevent it as much as Claudia.

Wouldn’t she?

“Mrs. Nipton,” Claudia said, “might I have a quick word with you in private?”

“What about?”

“In private, Mrs. Nipton,” Claudia snapped with exasperation. “It means we talk alone, where others can’t eavesdrop.”

Mrs. Nipton peered out at the dance floor as Lucas performed a rather smooth and stunning dip in his turn of Miss Hubbard. Onlookers gasped and clapped with delight.

Mrs. Nipton frowned and whipped away.

“Yes, let’s chat.” She gestured to the rear door. It led to a long hall that went to the back of the house. “I’ll leave first. Meet me in five minutes, third room on the right.”

“I will see you shortly,” Claudia said, but Mrs. Nipton had already slipped away.

* * * *

“What is it?” Nanette asked Claudia Cummings. “And please be brief. I’ve really never liked you, and I’d just as soon be in the ballroom.”

“I shall be blunt and brief.”

“Thank God,” Nan mumbled.

“I’d like to speak with you about Lucas Drake.”

“What about him?”

“I understand he is a particular friend of yours.”

Nan considered the pros and cons of an admission of friendship, then she shrugged. “Yes, he is. So what?”

“You can’t want him to marry.”

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re not that close, and I’m married myself. It’s naught to me if he weds.”

Claudia smirked. “Let’s be frank, shall we, Mrs. Nipton?”

“Yes, let’s definitely be frank.”

“You can’t let that pathetic schoolteacher have him without a fight.”

“Is that where she came from? Lord Sidwell is scraping the bottom of the barrel, isn’t he?”

“I certainly feel that way, and I don’t wish her to join the family.”

“Is it any of your business, Mrs. Cummings?”

“Of course it’s my business, Mrs. Nipton. My daughter, Priscilla, will be countess of Sidwell someday. Everything that happens to the Drakes affects us enormously.”

“If you say so.” Nan shrugged again, not caring about Aaron or George Drake.

But Lucas...

Lucas was another matter entirely.

Nan had flirted and seduced and deceived too many people to count. From an early age, she’d known what she craved: wealth and status and position. She was just twenty-eight, but she’d already been wed four times. She picked rich, elderly fools who were vain and stupid enough to presume she loved them, yet frail enough to die swiftly after the marriages began.

Her latest husband, Freddie, was typical. He was in his seventies and not as spry as he once was. But he had friends who liked to tattle and get her into trouble, and Lucas was the biggest trouble of all. Whenever they were seen together, Freddie was informed immediately, and he was always furious at the news.

Of all the men with whom she’d ever trifled, Lucas was the only one who hadn’t wanted her. The fact that he could remain so aloof, that she’d never been able to entice him into a deeper affiliation, rendered him a prize worth having.

His disregard was as vexing as it was annoying. She was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, but also the most dissolute and corrupt. She matched him in temperament, character, and degenerate nature, and she’d assumed that—after she’d amassed a sufficient fortune from her many spouses—she’d ask Lucas to wed and was convinced he’d agree.

He was very smart and always penniless. If she dangled a fortune in front of him, he’d rapidly recognize the wisdom of a union.

While Lord Sidwell kept plotting to marry him off, it had been their running joke that Lucas wouldn’t have a girl chosen by Lord Sidwell. It had never occurred to Nan that the situation might have changed, that Lord Sidwell might have actually found a girl who could snag Lucas for her own. Nan couldn’t believe it, but she’d seen Lucas dancing with the little mouse. He’d never once gazed at her as he’d been gazing at Miss Hubbard.

“What is it you want from me, Mrs. Cummings?” Nan inquired.

“I want you to ensure that Lucas doesn’t marry Miss Hubbard.”

“How would I do that?”

“You know him better than anyone. I’m certain you can think of something.”

Nan studied Mrs. Cummings, finding her to be rude and snobbish in a way Nan loathed. Nan regularly engaged in treachery and trickery—it was just her penchant to be cunning—but the notion of being partners with Claudia Cummings, of scheming against Lucas on Claudia’s behalf, was nauseating.

“I couldn’t harm Lucas,” Nan insisted.

“If you can wreck the betrothal, how would that harm him? You’re aware of how remarkable he is. Could you really sit idly by and watch him ruin his life over such an inferior person?”

Nan pondered forever, then said, “No, I don’t suppose I could.”

“I’m asking you to flaunt your relationship with Lucas as you never have before. Throw yourself at him at every turn. Be seen with him at every event. If you must, spread lies about the two of you, and I’ll guarantee Miss Hubbard is apprised of any risqué conduct—even if it never transpired.”

“She appeared to be very fond of Lucas.”

“Much too fond—more fool her.”

“And if she’s the innocent nobody you claim, she’d be immensely hurt if she was betrayed by him.”

“Why would you or I care if she’s hurt? Or goal is to stop her from marrying him. It’s fair to employ any viable subterfuge in order to achieve our objective.”

They stared and stared, like combatants in the ring, and Nan was struggling to decide her purpose. She liked Lucas very much and wanted him to be happy, but she wanted him to be happy with her—Nan—not with some unknown ninny who’d skated in at the last second.

Ultimately, she slyly said, “You’d have to make it worth my while.”

“I expected that request from you.”

“How could you help me?”

“I’m told you’ve accumulated quite a gambling debt at the Stevens brothers’ club.”

Nan shielded any reaction. “Where did you hear that?”

“I’d rather not say, but the amount is sufficient that your poor husband, Freddie, would be incensed if he learned of it.”

“He won’t learn of it.”

“Won’t he?”

Claudia suddenly seemed very dangerous and much more cunning than Nan had ever dreamed of being. Nan thought she could probably take lessons in guile from the older woman. “Then again,” Claudia mused, “if you can chase Miss Hubbard away, I’ll pay the debt for you.”

“All of it?”

“Every penny, and Freddie need never know.”

Nan scrutinized Claudia, wishing she could open the top of Claudia’s head and peer inside to read her mind, but with any conspirator, it was difficult to discern if there’d be a double cross.

“Swear it,” Nan said. “Swear that if I run Miss Hubbard away, you’ll pay off my debt to the Stevens brothers.”

“I’ll pay every single penny,” Mrs. Cummings vowed. “I swear.”

They stared again, then Nan nodded.

“All right. I should be able to take care of it tonight.”

“I was hoping you could.”

Claudia swept out, and Nan lingered, having a brandy from the sideboard, then she strolled to the ballroom alone. She glanced around, quickly discerning that no one had missed her, so no one would be wondering why she’d gone off with Claudia Cummings.

The waltzing had stopped, and couples were proceeding into the buffet. She looked for Lucas and Miss Hubbard but didn’t see them. But it didn’t matter. The party would last for hours, and it was a long while until dawn.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Well done, Miss Hubbard.”

“What are you talking about?”

Amelia smiled at Bryce Blair.

“It looks as if you’ve snagged your quarry,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Lucas Drake, of course.”

“It was just a waltz,” she breezily claimed. “I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

“I’ve seen a few people waltzing in my day, but I’ve never seen anything like
that
.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s a ball. We were dancing.”

“Were you?”

Her waltz with Lucas had been amazing, and she was so elated she was surprised she didn’t float off into the sky. As Mr. Blair’s comments indicated, she and Lucas had made a public spectacle of themselves, the likes of which bored, lazy Londoners would likely gossip about for months.

She was struggling to affect a jaded air, was flippantly denying any special occurrence, but it was extremely difficult to pretend it hadn’t been astonishing. It had ended an hour earlier, and the guests were still agog. Women glared maliciously, wondering what secret Amelia had used to coax such visible interest from Lucas. Men eyed her lewdly, wondering the same.

She was disoriented from the magical episode, her mind spinning with joy, but with confusion too.

Once the set was over, she’d presumed Lucas would escort her into supper. Or, better yet, that he might have begged her to sneak off into the garden so he could announce he was ready for their betrothal to become real. But he hadn’t. He’d deposited her at Barbara’s side, then disappeared. She hadn’t stumbled on him since.

Mr. Blair leaned nearer and whispered, “Has he proposed? Is that what it was about?”

“No, he hasn’t proposed.” She laughed. “Why would he have? We’re simply friends.”

“Friends, really?” He snorted. “I should be so lucky.”

“Have you seen my brother?” she asked.

“Not for several days. Why?”

“I haven’t seen him either.”

“I’m sure he’ll show up. He always does.”

The dancing was starting again, and Mr. Blair’s companions hailed him from across the room. He walked off to join them, so Amelia was finally alone. Needing to clear her head, she slipped out onto the verandah and stepped into the shadows.