Oh, dear.It was worse than she’d thought. “Surely such a conversation is better left over a pint instead of in front of delicate ears at an event such as this.” Daring much, she laid a hand on both their arms. Muscles tensed beneath her gloved fingertips. Which one did she favor?
“Perhaps,” the viscount bit out. He leaned back in his chair but crossed his arms at his chest, clearly closed off to further talking.
William met her gaze with questions in his own. “Agreed.” The timbre of his voice sent tiny thrills dancing over her skin.
For the next several minutes, they watched a young lady play a piece by Beethoven on the pianoforte with such skill that Fanny forgot about the tension between the men.
Though she was terrified at the prospect of flirting or dropping blatant hints, she tried her luck with Lord Wainwright first. While gazing at the performer, Fanny squeezed the viscount’s forearm, but he barely looked her way.
“This is hardly the time to seek attention,” he whispered. “But once in the carriage home, I’d be happy to indulge you,” he added with a slight grin.
Well, that provoked a response, but not one that gave her a definitive answer. “We shall see.” Immediately, she dropped her hand. Perhaps he didn’t want to show affection in a public venue, and truly neither of them should do anything that would cause scandal.
I can appreciate that.Yet confusion soon took hold. Did she want him over William? The young lady on the stage concluded her piece and while the audience applauded, she managed to catch Jane’s eye in the row ahead, several seats down. Encouraged by her friend’s slight nod, Fanny stifled a sigh.
On the pretense of shifting her position, she made certain her knee bumped William’s. Briefly, she touched his shoulder. “My apologies. These chairs are too close together,” she explained in a barely-there voice as she arranged her skirts about her legs.
“They are, rather,” he murmured. As the next lady walked onto the stage, a footman brought out a harp for her, and William leaned toward Fanny, snaking an arm along the delicate back of her chair. “Enjoying the performers?”
“Indeed. The last one was very good.” She cast him a quick glance. Awareness of him grew. Heat rose into her cheeks. “I wonder how you would sound up there with your violin.”
“It remains a mystery.” The deep rumble of his voice awakened butterflies in her belly, and as the first angelic notes from the harp filled the room, he brushed his gloved thumb lightly over her nape, so quick and tender she might have missed it except for the gooseflesh that raced along her skin. That fleeting touch caused her nipples to harden. Into her ear he whispered, “Please don’t give away my secret. I don’t wish all the ton to know I have a soft side.”
“I won’t.” Oh, this was a sticky wicket indeed, but part of her thrilled at his willingness to return her attention. Then she turned her head and looked at the viscount. Again, she laid a hand on his arm, and leaning into him, she murmured, “I do so adore music. It’s almost like an aphrodisiac in certain situations, don’t you think?”
Good Lord, did those words just come out of my mouth?
Lord Wainwright grunted. He cast her a confused glance. “Was there more than juice in that punch, Miss Bancroft? You’re acting as if you were foxed.” Gently but firmly, he removed her hand from his arm. “At least watch the rest of the performances before you cause a scandal.”
How utterly… mortifying. Heat slapped her cheeks as she turned back toward William.
His breath warmed her cheek, the shell of her ear. “Perhaps scandal would look good on you,” he whispered. “But you divide your time between him and me, Francesca. Some would call that fickle, and you might end up losing us both.” His words were barely discernable, but they sent a throbbing need between her thighs she didn’t understand.
“In all honesty, Inspector, I rather think it clever on my part,” she said in a low voice. Daring much, she boldly met his eyes, just as he’d instructed her to do days ago. Desire darkened those depths that added to her confusion. “Who shall emerge victorious?” When he didn’t answer, she flicked her gaze to the harpist. “Are you the better man?”
Oh, it was agony waiting for the young lady to conclude her musical piece, but she managed to contain herself and not let excitement shake her off her chair. Finally, when genuine applause filled the air, she stood. “I’m a bit dizzy from the heat. Please excuse me.” It took every ounce of her willpower not to run from the room as if there were dogs nipping at her heels.
Which one of the men would take the hint as it were?
Not knowing what else to do, she once more visited the refreshments room. Her throat was parched, so she availed herself of a flute of champagne and quickly took a large sip. The bubbles made her eyes water and her nose wrinkle as the sensation of sneezing crept up on her. She nodded and smiled to the few other people within the room, but mostly, she waited in a state of heightened awareness.
Would one of them come? Would both?
Oh, dear, perhaps she hadn’t thought this through.
After ten minutes, she wanted to give up and call an end to the farce, but as soon as she set her empty flute down onto a table, William entered the room. His stormy gaze swept the immediate area, not exactly lingering upon her, but he acknowledged her with a surreptitious tilt of his chin. As she watched, he strode to the table offering champagne and took up a flute. He downed the contents in two gulps, and she admired the way the cords in his neck worked with each swallow, the way the soft candlelight glimmered off the strands of silver in his hair.
A tremble went down her spine. What would he do? What would she?
His gaze met hers, and with a flick of his eyes he indicated the door. Seconds later, he set his empty flute down and left the room. Fanny’s heartbeat thrummed loud in her ears. Could anyone else hear it? But the few people about paid her no mind. When she slowly left as if she hadn’t a care in the world, a quick glance showed William had moved a bit down the corridor. Then he vanished into a room two doorways from the one she’d just left.
With nothing else to do, and a warning screaming through her head, she followed, for above all, she was curious—about him, about relations between men and women, about her own confusing reaction. As soon as she reached that doorway, a hand shot out and pulled her inside the room. A squeak of alarm left her throat, and when a strong arm came about her waist, her pulse kicked into an accelerated rhythm.
“William?” She could hardly squeeze his name from her tight throat so great did surprise and fear hold her captive. A single candle burned on top of a fireplace mantel, and in the dim illumination, she discerned the room was a parlor, and one that hadn’t been prepped for use this evening.
The door slid closed with a soft click of the latch while the warmth of his breath skated over her cheek. “If you wish to play with fire, sooner or later you’ll land too close to the flames,” he whispered.
“Or into a storm?” she countered in an equally quiet voice as excitement coursed down her spine. Oh, Jane hadn’t told her how thrilling this would be!