A Dash of Scandal

Chapter Five

“I do desire that we may be better strangers” or the Mad Ton Thief will not be found this Season. But not to worry, while we wait for the robber to be apprehended, we can expect wedding parties for Miss Watson-Wentworth and the Marquess of Gardendowns.

—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column

Millicent curtsied low, hoping to hide the shock in her eyes and slow the hammering of her heart at hearing his name. Angels above, Lord Dunraven was one of the Terrible Threesome her aunt had warned her about. Not only was he one of the most eligible men in Town, he was one of the most scandalous, if what her aunt said was true.

He was just the kind of rake who had ruined her mother’s reputation. He certainly wasn’t the kind of man that Millicent should lose her senses over. And to think she had dreamed about him last night and had wanted to meet him again.

She rose from her curtsy determined to find a way to deny his strong appeal. “How do you do, my lord,” she answered, her tone cool now that she knew who he was.

“Lord Dunraven, this is Miss Millicent Blair, the niece of a dear friend from the country. This is her first visit to Town.”

His shining blue gaze brushed lingeringly down her face before lighting on her eyes. Unexpected pleasure filled her, and excitement at his presence grew inside her despite her resolution not to be affected by him.

“Welcome to London, Miss Blair. I trust you are enjoying yourself.”

“Very much, thank you. I find London and its people fascinating.”

“That’s good to hear. We do take great pride in our fair city. I’m sure Lady Heathecoute is seeing that you are attending the best parties and luncheons and taking calls from only the most respectable of gentlemen.”

Millicent glanced at her chaperone, who wore a delighted expression on her face. “You have no need to concern yourself on that account, sir. Her ladyship and the viscount have been dedicated to me.”

“No doubt you have many thank-you letters to write,” he said with a hint of a devilish grin attractively lifting one corner of his lips.

Millicent cleared her throat. He dared to bring that up, obviously in hopes of provoking her to blush. He was a rake of the highest order. The smile on his roguish lips and the sparkle in his intriguing eyes made it clear he was having a wonderful time at her expense. She should be outraged, but she was wasn’t. She was pleasantly puzzled by his attention.

“Yes. I believe I’m up to date on all my notes, Lord Dunraven. I’m flattered by your interest, considering I’m a stranger to you.”

“Not that we’ve now been introduced. With Lady Heathecoute’s permission, perhaps there’s room on your dance card for me, if it’s not filled with notes—I mean names.”

Millicent had to think quickly. The last thing she wanted was Lord Dunraven looking at her card. She didn’t want anyone looking at it.

No wonder he was considered one of the Terrible Threesome. He was a scandalous earl. He was openly flirting with her in front of the viscountess at one moment and trying to get her into trouble the next—proof that the earl of Dunraven was not a man she could afford to have anything to do with—no matter how utterly charming he was.

“How very kind of you to offer, my lord, but I’m afraid I can’t accept any more invitations tonight. I believe her ladyship is eager for us to go on to the next party she has planned for us this evening.”

“Balderdash, Millicent, dear,” Lady Heathecoute cooed as softly as was possible given her strong voice. “We’ll forego the next party if we must. Have a dance with the earl. That’s what the Season is for, isn’t it? Dancing the night away. In fact, I believe the next one is about to start. Is this dance taken, dear? Let me see. Where is your card?”

Millicent clutched her reticule tighter and smiled sweetly at her ladyship. “Ah—no. There’s no need to look. I’m sure this dance is open.”

“Then it’s settled, if you are free, my lord?” the viscountess said.

“Indeed, I am.” He extended his arm for Millicent. “May I have this dance?”

Not trusting herself to speak, there was nothing for her to do but graciously agree with a slight nod. She lightly placed her hand on the crook of his arm and walked with him to the dance floor.

“It’s impolite to decline a dance with an earl,” he said.

Millicent turned to look at him and saw by the glint in his eyes and the half grin on his lips that he was teasing her, not reprimanding her for ill manners.

She lifted her chin a notch. “Not when the earl’s flagrant reputation precedes him.”

“So you’ve been in London long enough to hear all the tittle-tattle.”

“Surely not all there is, but enough to make me wary of you and a few others. Besides what I’ve heard about you, I have firsthand knowledge of your abilities.”

“My abilities, Miss Blair?” he questioned. “I’m not certain which abilities you are referring to.”

“Your roguish ones, sir.”

He smiled again, one that was full of genuine amusement. It should have irritated Millicent immensely that he found such pleasure in her discomfort, but for reasons unknown to her his attitude didn’t bother her.

But she wasn’t prepared to let him know that. “You were positively forward last night when you happened upon me in that darkened hallway.”

“Forward? Did you think so?”

“Certainly.”

“I thought I behaved like a perfect gentleman.”

They walked by a group of people and Millicent noticed that every one of them watched her as they passed. Her aunt would not like it that she had this kind of attention. Oh, how had she caught the eye of one of the Terrible Threesome? And what was she going to do about it?

She drew in her breath with a soft gasp and asked, “Perfect?”

“Yes.”

“A gentleman?”

“Yes.”

“What rubbish you speak, sir. It was unquestionably bold of you to have brushed my hand when you gave me your pencil last evening. A true gentleman would not have allowed that to happen.”

He turned to her, a well-pleased expression on his face. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“How could I not? It was so… unexpected,” she said, remembering the delightful tingle that jolted through her at his brief touch.

Lord Dunraven nodded to a beautiful woman and a gentleman dressed in a military uniform before answering her by saying, “And we were both wearing gloves. You are obviously a very sensitive woman, Miss Blair. I shall remember that.”

Millicent could have bitten her tongue out for even bringing up the incident. It was clear she would not get the upper hand with this man. Why had she mentioned that touch? Because she hadn’t been able to forget about it. The contact was no more than a butterfly’s brush, but she had felt it all the way down to her toes. He was right, she was sensitive to everything about him. His mere presence had her senses on alert.

“I said nothing because I was sure you had touched me by mistake, and I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“It would take a great deal more than a brush of hands with a beautiful woman to alarm me, I assure you. How thoughtful of you to think of my feelings, but no, Miss Blair, I caressed your hand by design not mistake.”

He smiled that knowing smile as they took their places on the crowded dance floor and waited for the music to begin.

“You are no gentleman, sir.”

“Sometimes. I thought you would pretend forever that I hadn’t touched you. You surprise me, Miss Blair, and I like surprises.”

“You wear your title of rake well, my lord. Not only did you stroke my hand, but you deigned to blow me a kiss. It was most inappropriate for you to do so.”

“I thought it dashing.”

“Dashing? I believe mischievous is the word you meant to say, for surely it was.”

He laughed softly, attractively. Once again Millicent felt a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach. As much as she hated to admit it, there was something remarkably appealing about him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself be truly angry with him. Oh, yes, knowing how she responded to his charm and his gentle touch, she believed he was a scoundrel of the highest order.

“You are not only a lady of great beauty, Miss Blair, you are a lady of delightfully quick wit. I haven’t been called impish in years. I’m impressed.”

“It’s not my desire to please you or to entertain you, my lord. I only want to be done with you.”

He laughed softly. “Tell me, would you believe me if I told you that most of whatever you may have heard about me is not true?”

“I think that would make your integrity as suspect as your flattery.”

The music started and the dance began. Millicent didn’t have time to think. She could only fall into his rhythm and step and let him lead her through the dance steps. When his hand touched hers, the tingles skittered up her back as if she weren’t wearing gloves at all.

He picked up the conversation where they had left off and said in a low seductive voice, “In that case, Miss Blair, I won’t bother to deny a single word you have heard about me, and you can assume it is all true. How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Millicent answered as she yielded to his expert leading in the dance.

“I can see I’ve made you happy.”

“I would have been happier had you not sought an introduction. Something tells me you somehow knew I would be free to accept your invitation of this dance.”

“How could I possibly know that? I would have to be a wizard.”

“Perhaps you are. I’ve heard you have great power over young ladies and that you can make them endanger their reputations and lose their heads over you.”

“The gossips give me more credit than I deserve, Miss Blair. I simply wanted to meet you and dance with you. I had no idea what dances you had free.”

Millicent felt her hand tighten in his, and she was certain he put emphasis on the word what. He couldn’t possibly know what she was doing, could he?

“I’ve not seen your card. You could have already promised this dance to another.”

“Yes, of course.”

If Millicent wasn’t careful, her guilty conscience was going to make her say the wrong thing and make him suspicious of her. She didn’t need anyone asking her too many questions.

“So you are only in London for the Season?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Perhaps a little longer, I can’t be sure right now.”

“And where do you call home?” he asked as the tips of his fingers once again stroked inside her hand.

“Where my mother lives,” she answered and easily changed the subject to say, “I haven’t met either of your friends, Lord Chatwin and Lord Dugdale.”

“Does that mean you want to meet them?”

“Certainly not. I was merely making conversation.”

“Good. I would think you’d react to Fines and Andrew much the same way you have to me.”

“No doubt.”

“You have been filled in on the gossip about all three of us, I see.”

“It didn’t take much. I think the three of you must try to do things that make people want to talk about you and make the scandal sheets want to write about you.”

“Perhaps we have. What would you say if I told you that we were thinking of mending our ways?”

“Probably that it’s too late to make a difference. The damage has been done.”

Millicent was close to being in a dither. The lazy stroll his fingers made on her hand was making her crazy with need to return the sensuous touch. She was supposed to be too sensible to fall for his persuasive machinations, but she was finding herself quite susceptible to him.

She had to do something to break the spell he’d cast on her. No matter how special his touch made her feel, she had to remember that with this man she was just another young lady in his arms and therefore he felt free to trifle with her. He was a rogue’s rogue.

“Do you caress the hands of every lady you dance with?” she asked.

His blue eyes darkened. “With all that you’ve heard about me, I’m surprised you have to ask.”

“I wanted to know if you would tell the truth or fill my head with the silly notion that I’m the first.”

“You are far too clever for me to tell you anything silly.”

Another thing to like about him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, would you please stop? I find your brashness very disconcerting.” But pleasing.

“I thought I was being quite restrained, when what I really want to do is pull you into my arms and kiss you.”

A stunned gasp rushed past her lips. “You forget yourself, sir.”

“No, but there are times like these when I’d very much like to.”

He guided her into a twirl under his arm and brought her to face him again without missing a step. There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes, though he was discreet enough not to show it in his polite smile.

“You have that affect on me, Miss Blair. But I will change the subject so as not to further offend your sensibilities. So where does your mother reside?”

Millicent took a deep breath before saying, “In the country. So tell me, if what is written about you is not true, what is?”

“That’s a rather broad question for a lady who only gives the narrowest of answers.”

Millicent stared directly into his intriguing blue eyes, sparkling with immense pleasure. For the first time since beginning their dance, she couldn’t help giving him a genuine smile as she said, “Surely a lady is not supposed to tell everything during a first dance, my lord.”

“Careful, Miss Blair, you are about to ruin your reputation.”

Undaunted, she asked, “How so?”

“I believe that remark was the first thing you have said to me that could be considered flirtatious.”

“Then I must be more careful. Flirting with you is the furthest thing from my mind.”

“I fear the lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

Millicent’s eyes widened in surprise as a warm feeling flooded her. “You’ve studied Shakespeare?”

“Studied? No, I’ve simply read some of his work.”

“He was a very clever man with words.”

“Is that a hint of how I might find my way past your head to your heart, Miss Blair?”

Millicent tingled and tensed at the same time. He was so bold. He was so charming she easily forgot who he was and eagerly engaged him in pleasant conversation.

“Certainly not.”

“I should like to call on you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Blair.”

“That wouldn’t be convenient, Lord Dunraven.”

“The next afternoon, perhaps?”

Lord Dunraven lifted his arm and led her into a slow twirl as the dance ended, far too quickly yet not fast enough. He gently squeezed her fingers again, let go of her hand and bowed.

Millicent curtsied on weak knees. He kept her constantly on her wits. “I’m sorry. I fear my afternoons are full.”

Chandler extended his arm for her, and Millicent graciously accepted. “I do believe you are rejecting my advances, Miss Blair.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, sir.”

Quietly they walked back to the perimeter of the room where Lady Heathecoute was waiting for her. Millicent’s heart beat faster than it ever had, and the speed had nothing to do with the dancing. Lord Dunraven’s touch sent her heart rate spiraling out of control, and her common sense took leave.

As they neared the viscountess, Lord Dunraven turned to Millicent and softly said, “If clever words won’t win your heart, Miss Blair, then I shall have to keep looking until I find what will.”

***

After dutifully delivering Miss Blair back to the Lady Heathecoute, he watched them leave. When she turned away from him, Miss Blair was still wearing the stunned look she gave him when he told her he would find a way to her heart. He had shocked himself, too. He hadn’t been this interested in anyone since Lady Lambsbeth sank her claws into him.

He’d been with Miss Blair twice and he hadn’t heard her giggle once, an annoying habit of most of the young ladies at the parties he attended. Funny, the batting of eyelashes and fluttering of fans never used to bother him, but now he found them quite irritating. Thankfully, Miss Blair hadn’t even carried a fan. He wasn’t sure he even saw her blink. She was too in control of herself.

Chandler needed to get himself a drink and search the room again for anyone who looked like he didn’t belong.

Miss Blair was certainly the most intriguing young lady he’d ever met. He wasn’t so sure he should let her know of his interest so soon. He learned early not to act interested in a young lady even if he was. But tonight he’d indicated he wanted to find the way to Miss Blair’s heart. He had never said anything like that before. What was he thinking? He couldn’t have sounded more oafish if he’d been a common schoolboy getting his first glimpse of a paid mistress.

Damnation! He’d spent enough time pondering Miss Blair. He had to catch a thief. It was time he watched the doorways, roamed the rooms, and searched the crowds, or he would never find the man he sought.

Chandler stopped and chatted with the Duke of Grembrooke and asked about his daughter Lady Lynette, but his gaze continuously searched the room, looking for a man who didn’t quite fit in with the group. He spoke to Sir Charles Wright when he passed him, nodded and smiled to a group of ladies, and snubbed a gentleman who once tried to call him out over a misunderstanding.

After slowly walking through each room twice, Chandler concluded that all the men looked alike. If one was suspicious looking, then they all were. And to make matters worse, he realized he knew most of the men by name and wouldn’t consider any of them a robber. Still, he told himself, the thief would have already been caught if he looked like a beggar among the ton.

“Dunraven, hold up.”

Chandler swore under his breath and kept walking, never changing his stride. He wasn’t up for another conversation with Andrew. With any luck someone would stop his friend and waylay him before he caught up with Chandler.

But seconds later Andrew fell in step with him.

“Dunraven, I’m glad I found you. I saw you dancing with her. How did it go?”

Chandler ignored Andrew’s last question and turned to greet his friend with a smile and gentle clap on the shoulder. “You found me just in time. I’m on my way to get a drink. Care to join me?”

“Yes, but let’s quit this party and head over to White’s. It’s early enough for a game or two of whist.”

“I can’t, old friend.”

“Why not? She’s gone. I saw her leave.”

His relationship with Miss Blair was off-limits. Chandler turned to him and asked, “Who?”

“Who indeed?” Andrew said impatiently. “Miss Blair, of course. It’s not as if we didn’t spend half an hour talking about her earlier.”

“So you did know her name when we last spoke?”

Andrew gave Chandler a shrugging gesture and a smirk. “Yes of course I did. I wanted to know if you were interested enough to find out about her for yourself. I got my answer when I saw you dancing with her.”

“And I saw you dancing with Miss Pennington. I hope she met your expectations.”

“I’m still thinking about that. She seems terribly young and goosey.”

“Maybe it’s you getting old.”

“What a damning thought that is. I’m finding all the young ladies that way this Season.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s damnable getting old, isn’t it? Come on, let’s head over to White’s, have a drink and talk about it.”

“I have a dance with Miss Bardwell coming up in a short time.”

“Truly?” Andrew eyed him suspiciously. “You didn’t sound the least interested in her when we talked earlier.”

“I’m not. A situation came up that made it impossible for me to get out of asking her without being rude.” She’d obviously learned how to be forward from her mother, Chandler thought, but only added, “As bad luck would have it, I had to invite Miss Donaldson to dance as well, so I will be here a bit longer than I intended.”

“You must have been cornered by them.”

“That’s a mild way of putting it.”

“The hopefuls are getting braver every year. Remember how timid they all were just ten years ago?”

“Yes. Didn’t you just recently refer to them as the ‘good old days’?”

Andrew laughed. “I must have been well into the bottle.”

“I think we both were.”

“But we’re mending our ways, right?”

“That remains to be seen,” Chandler answered as honestly as he could, considering he was no longer willing to share every thought with his friends.

“So tell me, did Miss Blair meet your expectations when you danced with her?”

Oh, yes, Chandler thought but eluded the direct question by saying, “I find that tonight I’m more interested in catching a thief than a pretty lady’s attention.”

“Hmm, I guess that means she was quite unremarkable.”

No, quite the opposite, Chandler thought and kept walking through the crowd.

If Chandler had only pondered it before, he knew for certain that there came a time in a gentleman’s life when he became his own man and not part of a threesome.