“I—” her throat closed over the words as a familiar figure came into view.
Oh!It was Mr. Glendevon, and he was walking through the crowd with the marquess. They looked to be close acquaintances for the marquess stopped and introduced Mr. Glendevon to a few people. Oddly some people looked nervous or startled, but Lucien merely retained an enigmatic smile. He was handsomely dressed in a well-cut tailcoat and a silver waistcoat that held the very hue of his eyes. Someone had tried to tame his hair which needed a trim, but the dark locks curled at his nape and a curl had strayed onto his forehead. He appeared as a fashionably dressed gentleman who was uncommonly handsome. His bearing was one of lean, lithe elegance. There was an arrogant lift to his chin and a derisive smile to his mouth, as if he was taunting someone or perhaps daring them. On continued inspection, she noted it was for those he met.
“Why do you suddenly looked flushed and nervous when you were dripping with elegant boredom a minute ago?” Emma asked quietly. “And who is that man you are staring at? Please look away, Ellie; it is beyond the pale.”
Quickly, Eleanor averted her gaze. “Was it very obvious?”
“There is still a crush; I doubt anyone noticed,” her sister replied. “Who is he?”
“Thatis Mr. Glendevon.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “That man who rescued you from those footpads and the man whose carriage you went into?”
“Did I talk about meeting any other Glendevons?” Eleanor asked with a touch of asperity, completely rattled by his presence.
“He is very handsome,” her sister breathed. “I can see why you were so smitten.”
“I am not smitten,” she instantly rebuffed. “And if I were it would be because he is an amusing conversationalist and an intelligent and charming gentleman.”
Her sister gasped. “I…I do believe the marquess and Mr. Glendevon are coming this way, and…oh dear also the old dragon.”
Eleanor stiffened her spine and waited for whatever was about to happen. Lady Celdon reached her side at the same time as the marquess and Mr. Glendevon. The way he looked at her teased a blush to her cheeks, and she had to fight to suppress the reaction. She narrowed her eyes at him in warning and had to look away at the sheer sensuality of the smile that quirked his lips. Her heart tapped a frantic beat inside her chest and a sidelong glance showed the wonder on Emma’s face as she surreptitiously glanced between Eleanor and Mr. Glendevon.
The marquess introduced him to her grandaunt who stared at him with a haughty superiority that was almost embarrassing.
“Mr. Glendevon,” she said, looking down her nose at him though he stood at least a foot taller. “I do not believe I am familiar with this name.”
“Many are not, my lady,” he said smoothly.
The marquess then rushed in and made the proper introductions to Eleanor. She dipped her head slightly. “Mr. Glendevon, a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Miss Fairbanks. A pleasure.”
Her grandaunt stiffened, and it felt as if an icy wind blew from her and covered only Mr. Glendevon. That he was unwelcome was evident and, as she stared at him, Eleanor hoped she communicated an apology. He did not linger to make inane conversation but excused himself after being introduced to Emma. The marquess continued his rounds, and Eleanor released a slow breath.
“The utter gall of that man,” Lady Celdon snapped. “How does he dare?”
“I do not understand, grandaunt,” Eleanor said mildly, gripping her champagne glass.
The look Lady Celdon gave her skewered, but she offered no explanation and said, “If he should ask to dance with you, young lady, you will deny him most firmly.”
Her heart jolted. “Yes, grandaunt.”
The dowager countess gave her a nod of approval and then went off to join a few other matrons.
“Who is he, do you think?” Emma asked. “I have never seen the old dragon looking so…well…frightening.”
“I know he is a businessman and he and his family own a business, but I do not believe he has a disreputable reputation or how could the marquess have introduced him?”
Emma seemed thoughtful for a few seconds then she said, “You are right, of course. We shall not think on them any longer; let’s have fun.”
Except try as she might, Eleanor was unable to dismiss from her awareness that Mr. Lucien Glendevon was at the very same ball. A dart of sensation rippled over her skin, a familiar feeling, and suddenly she knew it to be him that had elicited that feeling earlier. Now knowing what she looked for, she glanced around and saw him near the exit to the ballroom by a terrace door. Their gazes collided and his lips curved. There was an invitation in his expression that she did not understand, but it tugged at her, almost pushing her to step forward. She frowned and that curve on his mouth widened, then he turned around and slipped outside into the gardens.
Oh!Did he mean for her to follow him? Surely he could not be so outrageous. The thought provoked a startled laugh from her which snagged Mr. Hayford’s attention.
“What amuses you, Miss Fairbanks. I do hope it was not my enthusiasm about Miss Cecelia. It is not the actress I admire, I assure you, but her skill on the stage.”
Drat. Eleanor smiled up at him. “I would think it fine and proper to admire the lady herself and her talent. She is a wonderful beauty.”