‘And you’re the only man I’d select for a second husband, and you’re against marriage.’ She looked towards a group of men smoking at the far end of the verandah. ‘Hence my venture into the unknown tonight. The sedate balls are full of married men or old lechers, as all the exciting men are here instead.’ She pointed towards the cluster of five or six young men. ‘Perhaps one of them might be the boost I need to restore my faith in the male gender. A virile young man who knows about pleasurable sex.’
He scowled as he watched the young men laugh and slap each other on the back. ‘Those pups are too inexperienced to give a woman pleasure. At that age, it’s all over too quickly. You need someone who knows how to revere every dip and curve of your body. Arouse you and keep you on edge for hours, and then leave you limp with pleasure as the sun rises.’ He shook his head and seemed to collect himself.
She swallowed. Yes, she’d often imagined Brent doing those very things to her body and she didn’t doubt that he knew many ways to make sex exciting and unforgettable, but there was no point imagining herself with Brent when she knew how studiously he avoided contact with women these days. Well, except for her and his cook.
‘Not all men are cruel,’ he was saying when she paid attention to his words rather than the way his trousers stretched across his groin when he had his hands on his hips and his coat tails pulled aside. ‘Some husbands value their wives and treat them like queens.’
She sighed. ‘A nice thought, Brent, but unless you can introduce me to one of those paragons of husbands, I’m reduced to finding my excitement with one of the gentlemen here tonight.’
‘Lillian,’ he hissed through gritted teeth. ‘Have you been paying attention to me? I know most of the gentlemen attending this ball and there isn’t one of them that’s good enough for you.’
‘Not even you?’ At his shocked look, she waved her hand between them. ‘Sorry. I know you’re not interested in me. Not in that way, anyway.’
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, hard. Was she mistaken? Did he find her attractive, after all? Because, Lord knew, she found him, and his muscled body, very enticing. Many a time she’d ridden behind him purposely so she could watch his taut behind rise and fall in the saddle, his thighs stretched tight as he rose slightly in the stirrups and his coat pulling across wide shoulders. She’d secretly been pleased that he wouldn’t allow visitors to his house, declaring that he and his daughter were still grieving. Though she knew that was a fabrication to prevent his mother from bringing a constant stream of eligible ladies to visit, she enjoyed being the only woman who saw him dressed down and carefree as they rode together. Which they did often.
With her head tilted to one side so she could peer up at him, she said, ‘Are you? Interested in me that way? As a woman.’
She heard the hiss of his indrawn breath and sensed she was about to be rejected. Being rejected by her husband had wounded her feminine pride, though even that pain hadn’t destroyed her. By contrast, if her best friend, the man that knew her better than her mother, turned away from her, the pain would kill her. She spun towards the door, desperate to escape.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Her companion, Maggie, stepped through the balcony doorway and strode towards her. She eyed Brenton, slowly appraising him from top to toe, before turning her back to him. ‘I was worried when I couldn’t find you. Are you all right?’
Brenton stepped around Maggie and gave her the same disdainful look as she’d given him. He gave a small bow and said, ‘I’m Brenton. And your name is…?’
Maggie rolled her eyes. ‘I know better than to reveal myself here. And I already know who you are, my lord.’
Lillian squirmed when Brent’s gaze flicked towards her and back to Maggie. ‘I’ve told my friend about you, Brent.’
‘I see.’ He turned to Maggie and leaned in close. ‘And what sort of friend are you that you brought a young woman to an event that caters to less than respectable ladies?’
‘The best sort, my lord.’ Maggie didn’t flinch form Brent’s blunt question. ‘The sort of friend who recognizes that a woman has been scarred by men and life and needs a chance to enjoy herself without censure. Needs a night of fun and frolic, rather than one of fear and loneliness.’
‘Loneliness?’ Brent repeated the word in surprise and looked at Lillian. ‘Is she correct? You’ve been lonely.’
‘In my marriage, yes, I was lonely. Geoffrey didn’t like me to see my own friends or family too much. He wanted me at home, where he could keep me under control, or attending events on his arm. A decorative addition to enhance his reputation as a man who purchased only the best quality goods. Immaculate clothing, flashy carriage, well-bred horses, and a household where he ruled supreme. There was little room for me to breathe.’
He touched her arm. ‘I’m sorry to have failed you so badly. I was so swept up in my own misery and battling to keep my wife’s affairs under wraps that I gave no thought to how your life was when in London. I picture you as that free spirit riding across the fields at full pelt and not giving a damn who sees you in your breeches and shirt.’