“May I pour you a drink before we leave?” he said, his eyes still boring into hers.
“Yes.” The word came out like a frog had taken up residence in her throat.
This nonsense had to stop. The man was a known flirt and philanderer. She would not permit him to use his wiles on her when there was an assignment to conduct. She said, “Actually, no thank you.” She swung her matching blue satin shawl around her shoulders and raised her chin. “I believe it is time we left.”
The look on his face told her he knew exactly what she was about. “Of course.” He downed the brandy, and before he could move to her side, she hurried from the room.
She gritted her teeth at the sound of his chuckle.
She’d managed to pull her libido under control by the time the carriage came to a rolling stop in front of the Lenards’ home. Since it was a longer ride with the residence located outside London proper, they’d spent part of the time with her describing the Ambassador and his assistant.
With this being a larger gathering than the garden party, it was important for them both to know for whom they were searching.
They followed the crowd in a queue as they made their way from their carriages to the house. Lydia had just turned to ask Mr. Rose a question when a woman walked up to them. “Dante, darling. I heard you attended Lady Benson’s garden party, but I told Miss Howard I would not believe Mr. Dante Rose would attend a ton event unless I see him with my own eyes.”
“Well, here he is, Lady Rockford,” Lydia said, her eyes narrowed, trying very hard not to sound as annoyed as she felt.
“Oh, hello Miss Sanford. I didn’t see you there.”
Clearly.
To Mr. Rose’s credit, he placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. Lady Rockford took notice, her brows raised. “Is there a particular reason why you have deigned to join our gatherings?”
“I find with Miss Sanford by my side they are not quite so trying.”
Lydia almost swallowed her teeth. He was playing his part so successfully that Lady Rockford actually reared back. “Do tell.” She lowered her eyelids.
Just then the queue began to move again, and she tapped him on his arm with her fan. “Just be sure to see me inside so you can add your name to my dance card, darling.” With a cold look at Lydia, she swept her skirts away and walked up to another woman in the line. They soon had their heads together.
“Well done, Mr. Rose.”
He looked down at her. “I hope you know how much that cost me.”
“Oh, goodness. Whatever will the ladies of the ton do? They will probably cry themselves to sleep tonight.”
“Only tonight, Miss Sanford?” His grin was infectious.
She shook her head at his audaciousness. “If we are to be believed, I think it is time to drop the Mr. Rose and Miss Sanford. It is time we used Lydia and Dante.”
He ran his finger around the inside of his neckcloth. “You are really going to put a dent in my amorous attempts once this assignment is over, Miss Sanford. Rather, Lydia.”
She laughed. “I have every confidence that you will have no problems when released from this. You will return to your rogue ways, and the ladies will be more than happy to accept you back into their fold. Or bed.”
Damn, but he enjoyed bantering with her. Lydia.
Most of his past repartee with other women had been sexual in nature, a prelude to bedsport. In some ways it was refreshing to have someone poke a hole in his self-confidence. However, his highly honed bedroom skills told him despite what she professed Miss Lydia Sanford was attracted to him.
There was no doubt in his mind that he was attracted to her. But she being unmarried and most likely innocent, he would not pursue that attraction. Her doting father would come down on him like a ton of bricks if she were compromised in any way.
She seemed to think her father was worldly and forward-thinking, but he’d met enough men with marriage-age offspring to know before they passed from this earth, they all wanted their daughters to remain pure until settled and secure with a husband and home.
With a daughter of Lydia’s age, the man most likely kept marriage settlements in the top drawer of his desk, ready to whip out and fill in the blank spaces at a moment’s notice. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Viscount Sterling had an undated Special License tucked in along with marriage settlements and the local vicar on call.
Dante helped Lydia remove her shawl and handed it to the footman taking outer garments from the guests. Dante did an excellent job of stopping himself from kissing the back of her sleek neck where a few strands of hair rested.
They made their way to the top of the stairs leading to the ballroom below. After the few other guests in front of them had been announced, Lydia handed her invitation to the footman.
“Mr. Dante Rose and Miss Lydia Sanford.” The man’s