When Only a Rake Will Do (4 page)

Daphne shook her head.  “My accomplishments are highly exaggerated, I assure you,” she replied with a self-conscious laugh. 

Brendon cocked his head, eyeing her curiously, for she had surprised him once again.  Rather than taking pride in her success, a feat that most young women in her position would be over the moon about, she seemed almost discomfited by it.  How very unusual and altogether refreshing, he thought to himself. 

“Is it true, my lord, that you have just returned from a voyage to Egypt?” Daphne asked then, eager to change the subject, in addition to being genuinely interested.

“It is.  And as it was my first visit to the country, my crew and I spent several days exploring its cities as well as many of its most-impressive marvels.”

“Did you have an opportunity to visit the Great Sphinx of Giza?” she queried with unabashed curiosity. 

Brendon nodded.  “We did, and I have to say that it was even more spectacular than I had imagined,” he said truthfully.   “Quite awe-inspiring really.”

“I can only imagine,” Lady Daphne replied with a smile, her tone slightly wistful.  She’d seen it in pictures, of course, but to have viewed such a monumental creation in person had to have been a truly remarkable experience.  “And the pyramids?”

“Yes.  We visited several during our stay,” he answered as they continued to move in time with the music, somewhat surprised by her obvious enthusiasm. 

“The Pyramid of Khufu?”

“Indeed.  The sheer size of it was staggering,” he replied.  “In addition, my officers and I were fortunate enough to be granted a private viewing of the inner chambers, which were spectacular in their own right,” he continued. 

“How thrilling that must have been.”

“Have you a particular interest in the country, Lady Daphne?”

“I confess that I do,” she replied.  “My eldest brother George enjoyed a great fascination with the history of civilization, you see, a subject he never tired of discussing.  It was an interest we both shared, as was our particular fascination with the ancient Egyptians,” she explained, hoping he wouldn’t think her intellectual interests off-putting or perhaps consider her a bit of a bluestocking.

“Ah, I should have known,” he said with a knowing chuckle. 

Wrinkling her brow, she regarded him inquiringly for while Lord Leighton didn’t seem at all put off by her admission, she found his comment rather puzzling.

“I knew your brother well, you see,” Brendon explained as he spun Daphne into another turn.  “We attended Eton together, in fact.  George was a fine man and a good friend,” he added with absolute sincerity. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you and George were classmates.”

“Indeed we were.  And as I recall, he had a marked interest in many of the ancient cultures even then, as did I,” he continued, smiling fondly at the memory.  “It was with great sadness that I learned of his death and that of your parents, Lady Daphne.  Please know that you have my deepest sympathies.”

“Thank you, my lord.  It’s very kind of you to say so,” Daphne replied softly.  “And if George were here tonight I’m quite sure that he would have delighted in assailing you with questions about your recent adventure,” she added in a lighter tone.

“I have no doubt,” Brendon agreed with a smile, “just as I would have enjoyed recounting the highlights of my journey to someone who would have truly appreciated them.  But as you, my lady, seem to be a likeminded individual, perhaps at some future point in time you will allow me to share some of them with you in his stead.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said, smiling in return.  “I think that I would enjoy that very much.”

As they continued to glide and turn about the dance floor, their conversation flowing with remarkable ease, Brendon could only marvel at Daphne Hewitt’s charm, wit and obvious intelligence.  In addition, for one so young and new to the machinations of Society, her seemingly effortless air of poise and sophistication, combined with her apparent lack of vanity and self-absorption was both completely unexpected and utterly enchanting.  No wonder she had managed to stand out so markedly amongst the latest crop of debutantes, he mused, for in addition to her exceptional beauty, her unique character was like a breath of fresh air to a milieu that had become stagnant and all too predictable.

For Daphne, as the musicians played on and Brendon Leighton continued to sweep her effortlessly across the floor, it was perhaps the first time since making her debut that she didn’t feel as if she were playing a role. She was truly enjoying herself, her delight in the moment completely unfeigned.  And despite her rapidly beating heart and the almost intoxicating feel of being held in his muscular arms, he had somehow managed to put her at ease.  For once her smiles were unaffected and her conversation, no longer limited to the weather or to a tedious discussion centered upon Society’s latest on-dits, was entirely genuine.  Oh yes, she thought to herself, she could certainly understand Lord Brendon’s appeal, for she was fast falling under the charming rogue’s captivating spell as well. 

And so, when their waltz finally came to an end, it was with a true sense of disappointment that she allowed him to lead her from the floor.  “Thank you, my lord,” she said as he guided her through the crowd, “for the waltz, as well as the stimulating conversation.”

“It was my absolute pleasure, Lady Daphne,” Brendon assured her with a heartfelt smile as he led her to her brother’s side.  And it truly was, for he had enjoyed their waltz as well as their conversation, more so than he could have ever imagined.

“Hello, Leighton,” Thomas greeted as they approached.  “Just got back into town I hear.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did.”

“Humph.  Would’ve expected to see you at Boodle’s or one of the other clubs tonight, not cooling your heels at a Society gathering,” he remarked with an incredulous expression.

“And you likely shall see me there later this evening,” Brendon replied with a chuckle.  “But as the Chesterfields are close family friends, I was more than happy to postpone my go round of the clubs until the later part of the evening.”  Smiling, he turned back to Daphne.  “Lady Daphne,” he said with a polite bow, “it was an honor to make your acquaintance.  And now, if you will excuse me, I shall leave you to your brother’s care.” 

“Of course,” she replied with an answering smile.

“Huxley,” he said with a polite nod, and then promptly took his leave.  Though he would have enjoyed spending a few more minutes in Lady Daphne’s charming company, he dared not, for the speculative eyes of several match-making mamas and their respective daughters had already begun to linger upon him with renewed interest as he’d broken character by dancing with not one, but three unmarried young ladies that night.

Unbeknownst to Brendon, one
particularly
assessing gaze had been scrutinizing his interaction with the Hewitt’s from across the room and continued to watch him as he walked away from the viscount and his sister.

“I dare say that I have seen
that
look before,” Nicholas Leighton murmured to his wife as he noted the contemplative quirk of her brow and the calculating expression displayed upon her pretty face as she stared fixedly across the room.  “What is it, or should I ask
who
is it, that has drawn your attention, my love?” he asked, turning his head to track the line of her gaze, following it until it landed upon a gentleman with features remarkably similar to his own.  “Ah,” he said then, answering his own question with a slight, amused smile upon his lips.  “And what, pray tell, has my younger brother done to warrant such sudden and intense scrutiny?” 

Ashleigh Leighton, Duchess of Sethe immediately turned to her husband, her features animated.  “Did you see who he just led from the dance floor?”

Nicholas looked back at his wife and shrugged, his expression blank.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes skyward and then shook her head as if to say,
why did I even ask
. “He was dancing with
Lady Daphne Hewitt
,” she enlightened him.  “And ‘twas a waltz no less.”

“Ah,” he said, though his tone conveyed a decided lack of interest in his brother’s choice of partner.

“Nicholas,” Ashleigh uttered with the slightest touch of exasperation in her voice, “can you recall the last time Brendon paid the slightest attention to an innocent young miss fresh from the schoolroom?   Lizzie and Amelia Warrene notwithstanding, of course,” she added.

Nicholas hesitated for a moment as he considered the question.  “No, I can’t say that I do,” he replied, as comprehension dawned.

“Exactly,” Ashleigh exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.

“My dear, while I understand your eagerness to see Brendon settled, I would advise you not to get your hopes up unnecessarily.  It was only one dance after all,” he cautioned. 

“Yes, you’re right of course.  It was only one dance,” she acknowledged.  “Nevertheless, it
is
an altogether unexpected and potentially promising turn of events.” 

“Ashleigh-”

You know, darling,” she said then, placing her hand lightly upon her husband’s arm, effectually interrupting whatever it was that he’d been about to say.  “I was thinking that perhaps we should host a dinner party in honor of Brendon’s recent homecoming,” she continued, her tone enthusiastic

Nicholas blinked in surprise.  “A dinner party?”

Ashleigh nodded, her green eyes twinkling.  “Nothing too elaborate, just a handful of guests.”

“I see.  And should I assume that the
Hewitts
will be on the guest list?” he asked with an all too knowing look.

“Darling, but of course,” she replied as a Machiavellian grin lit up her face.

Just over an hour later, Brendon walked through the front door of Boodle’s, one of London’s most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs, the pleasantness of his mood becoming even more pronounced as he entered the private, males-only establishment.  Mercifully devoid of fresh-faced, giggling debutantes and their machinating mothers, it was the perfect place for a man to enjoy a fine glass of brandy, engage in a bit of stimulating conversation and partake in a rousing game of cards.  And within minutes of his arrival, Brendon was contentedly enjoying all three.

“I say Leighton, was that you I saw waltzing with Huxley’s sister at the Chesterfield ball earlier this evening?” Percival Montcliffe asked as Brendon studied the cards he’d just been dealt. 

He looked up, his expression nonchalant as he regarded Montcliffe over the tops of his cards.  “I would imagine so.  Why do you ask?”

“Not like you, that’s all,” Percival replied as he cast one of his cards onto the center of the felt-covered table.

Brendon grinned rakishly, arching the brow over his left eye.  “Not like me to dance with a beautiful woman, Percy?”

Percival snorted.  “A beautiful woman yes, an innocent young miss,
no
.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true enough,” Brendon replied, chuckling as he tossed one of his own cards onto the table.

“Hells bells, don’t tell us you’re thinking of adding your name to the list of Lady Daphne’s suitors,” Marcus Tolliver, the gentleman sitting to Brendon’s left exclaimed, his eyes going wide.

“Hardly,” Brendon scoffed good-humoredly.  “It was one dance, gentlemen,” he reminded them.  “She’s a lovely girl, no doubt about that, but I assure you that I am at present quite happy with my life just as it is.”  However, even as he spoke the words he had to admit,
if only to himself
, that the thought of furthering his acquaintance with Lady Daphne Hewitt was far more tempting than he cared to acknowledge.

“Glad to hear it,” Richard Ashton stated with a vigorous bob of his blonde head. 

“And why is that?” Brendon asked with an amused glance toward the man sitting to his right.

“Well damn, Leighton, if there’s a woman out there capable of convincing you to surrender
your
bachelor status, then surely the rest of us don’t stand a chance,” he avowed.

“Ha,” Marcus scoffed with a teasing grin. “You don’t fool us, Ashton.  I’d wager the real reason that you’re glad Leighton’s not interested in pursuing Lady Daphne is because
you’re
still hoping to win the lady’s affections yourself, and if Leighton was in the mix you know you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

While the others chuckled and boisterously voiced their agreement with Marcus’ assessment, Brendon merely sat back in his chair and grinned. 

Later that night as Daphne settled into the warmth of her bed, her thoughts were still spinning despite the lateness of the hour. Pondering the events of the past several hours, her mood was an odd combination of both frustration and exhilaration.  Frustration for having to continue with Blackburn’s charade and exhilaration at having finally experienced a few moments of genuine, unaffected enjoyment in the arms of Brendon Leighton.  Thinking back to their waltz, she closed her eyes, replaying each moment over again within her mind, marveling at the unfamiliar, spine-tingling sensations the captivating lord had stirred within her. Her one regret, however, was that Blackburn seemed to have enjoyed her interaction with Lord Leighton nearly as much as she had.