‘That’s very high-handed of you. Besides, how am I supposed to dazzle dozens of men if you frighten them all off with one of those ferocious scowls of yours?’
‘Was it ferocious?’ He appeared surprised. Then he shrugged. ‘A show of jealousy on my part will only serve to stoke curiosity to fever pitch,’ he offered by way of explanation. ‘Since I have never, ever displayed it before.’
No. He was renowned for growing bored with his conquests remarkably rapidly, she reflected as he snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and presented it to her. She supposed she would become something of a rarity if he even managed to keep up the pretence of being interested in her for more than a fortnight.
‘Now, let us sit on this convenient pair of chairs, in this recess, and discuss your progress, while we pretend to watch the dancing.’
The band had struck up. The people who had been forming sets for the opening dance were all bowing and curtsying to each other. She sank on to the chair Lord Deben had indicated and he took the one beside her.
‘Oh, very well,’ she said, taking a sip of champagne and watching the dancers. She didn’t quite dare look straight at Lord Deben, while they were sitting so close, not after last night. And because the moment he’d materialised in front of her, her whole body had reacted almost as strongly as if he had done some of the things he’d done then. Her legs already felt as unsteady as they’d done by the time he’d finished with her, and all he’d done was say ‘Miss Gibson’ in that molten-velvet voice.
‘Dare I ask what you were thinking about, to make you start so guiltily when I greeted you just now?’
‘I w— I d—’ She shook her head vigorously. ‘No, I c-cannot speak of it.’
With a smile, Lord Deben took her fan and plied it over her reddened cheeks.
‘I guessed as much. For whatever it was gave you a similar look to the one you wore when you left my presence last night.’
A sudden horrid thought struck her. ‘You don’t suppose other people will be able to tell, just from looking at me, what we were doing in that locked room last night? Did anyone see us go in there? I w-wasn’t thinking...’
‘Do not worry. I have enough experience at that kind of subterfuge to be able to hide my tracks. People may suspect a level of flirtation between us, but nothing more, I assure you.’
Nothing more, because they knew he only took beautiful, sophisticated women for his lovers. He did not waste his time on plain, gauche débutantes. They would think, she realised in horror, when they saw her drifting about the room with a soppy expression on her face, that she’d completely lost her heart to Lord Deben. And they would pity her.
Or they might have done, had he not pursued her to such an unfashionable venue, and pushed his way in without an invitation, making it appear that the attraction was not merely on her side.
He had thought of everything.
‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said, truly grateful, now, that he had made it look as though he could not bear to spend a whole evening without catching just a glimpse of her. She would just, somehow, have to deal with the flutter in her chest and the languor of her knees, and the feeling that she was blushing all over.
He shrugged dismissively. ‘Our intent is to set tongues wagging. Last night, you made a good start by walking up to me and daring to interrupt what those participating thought of as a serious discussion. Far from cutting you, as is my wont with impertinent creatures, I smiled, took your arm and went apart with you. Giving you such a marked sign of favour, in public, must have stoked the curiosity about us almost to fever pitch.’
‘By that reckoning—’ she frowned ‘—you need not have done all that kissing at all.’
He smiled, lazily. ‘Would you prefer that I had not?’
Her cheeks, already heated, became blazing hot. She darted him a nervous glance, then took refuge in sipping her champagne whilst searching for a suitable reply.
He chuckled. ‘I thought not. Nor do I regret it.’ He leaned forwards and murmured in her ear, ‘You are quite delicious, Miss Gibson. I am looking forward to tasting you again.’