“You mean conquest,” she shot back.
“I think we both know that you will not be a conquest. Which…” He lowered his tone once more, his eyes taking in the berry color of her lips left stained by the wine. “…I think frightens you more than if this were simply about conquest.”
Her intelligent eyes shifted away, her brow pinching slightly. “Why?” she asked so softly he wondered if maybe he imagined the question. Yet as she turned to him, the question was echoed in her gaze.
“I do believe that conversation is better suited for a more… private venue.” He allowed his gaze to meaningfully take in the crowded table. Meredith nodded once and turned to her other diner partner, engaging the Dowager of Moorworth in conversation.
Her presence beside him was acute torture. Even when she was sparring with him, using cutting remarks; he found her more and more enticing, intoxicating, just like the wine. It was a dangerous decision he was making, because the more he entertained the idea, the more he spent time with her, the more he realized it was a one-way path he was taking.
And there was no guarantee she would follow him down that dangerous slope.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALL THROUGHOUT DINNER, MEREDITH could feel his presence like a physical touch. It was as if his body heat called to her, enticed her, reminded her of his presence even when she was trying to forget it. How in creation had this happened? It was just a kiss! Yet she found herself far too drawn to him for comfort. It was a dangerous game, one that could easily be a ploy to destroy her, to get that final payback for all the other pranks, yet some part of her, the one she was desperately trying to silence, kept whispering; What if it isn’t? What if it’s real? What if people really do change?
But Lucas? Change?
The thought was laughable, yet… not.
So, as dinner ended and the ladies rose from the table to congregate in the parlor, her gaze flickered to his. His regard warmed her, his brown eyes flashing with a hunger that she was recognizing far too easily.
Pulling her gaze away, she turned to leave. It was not lost on her, however, the way Louisa’s gaze lingered with Hugh. Suspicion crept in. What was going on between those two? She stole another glance at Lucas, but quickly looked away when she caught him staring thoughtfully in her direction. Never in her life had she been so confused!
Ignoring the annoying emotion, she straightened her shoulders and walked to the parlor, awaiting the instructions from their hostess, the Duchess of Ashbury.
As soon as they were all assembled, the duchess began to lay out the rules for the evening’s diversion.
“Ladies! I am so thankful for your presence here at our party, and I cannot wait to begin our evening activities! I’m sure that you have heard that this evening’s games will require a male partner. If you haven’t a partner yet, you’ll be assigned one.” She nodded to a footman with a list then continued. “Each pair will be given a clue to find hidden objects within the garden and, especially, the garden maze. Each pair will be given a different clue to begin with, and once you find that hidden object, you’ll discover another clue for the next, and so forth and so on.” She waved her gloved hand in the air.
The room was thick with anticipation, especially as the unmarried ladies practically bounced with excitement. Darkened corners? Available gentlemen? This was a matchmaking momma’s heaven! She could see the calculating glint in several women’s expressions as they took in the other ladies within in the room.
“Finally! The pair that gathers all the clues and has reached all twelve clues, will win the honor of being Lord and Lady Frost at the final ball!”
Gasps and whispers accented her words. Meredith twisted her lip slightly. It would be an honor to be Lady Frost. But that would mean that she needed to be Lucas’ partner for the entire evening.
She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.
Because it wasn’t just the dancing.
Lord and Lady Frost would sit on a raised platform like a king and queen during the ball. The evening of dancing would start and end with their waltz, and, as was customary, at midnight the Lord would kiss the Lady under the mistletoe.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t kissed Lucas before… but she was quite certain that Lucas wouldn’t simply give her a chaste buss on the cheek or lips.
No. Passion like she’d experienced wouldn’t be restrained, and with God and everyone looking, that kiss would compromise her. And the ball might as well be her wedding.
Drat.
Why did he have to ruin everything? Meredith sighed heavily as her competitive streak flared within her. She wanted to win.
She wanted it terribly bad.
Yet at what cost?
Could she trust Lucas? It wasn’t likely, yet what choice did she have? To simply lose?
No.