“My lord.” Bella rose from a curtsey wondering what it would be like to kiss him and whether she’d get the opportunity.
Eaglestone’s smile broadened. Might he have read her thoughts? He would be well able to assess his business rivals. Her expressive face often gave her away. She resisted employing her fan to cool her cheeks and took a sip of chilled champagne, relieved that the gentlemen had turned the conversation to financial matters. When Eaglestone spoke, a hush settled around them. Men listened. Where most aristocrats had inherited their fortunes, and many were busy spending them, his lordship had amassed his through sheer business acumen.
It had taken one dance with him weeks ago to decide that he was the one. Since then, she’d made a detailed, if surreptitious, study of him whenever the opportunity arose. She admired a man with strong opinions, although it could make her plan more difficult. He might not be so easily persuaded to her view. Few gentlemen were as attractive as Lord Eaglestone was, however. And even fewer as wealthy. He must be the one. If he agreed, he would serve her well in both her endeavors. Convinced she was equal to the challenge, she did her best to ignore the warning prickle up her spine when his assessing gaze met hers.
When a lull came in the conversation, Bella seized her opportunity. Eaglestone had turned from the assembled group to remove a flute of champagne from a footman’s tray. “I’d like a moment of your time after supper, if you would be so good, Lord Eaglestone. I wish to discuss my charity with you,” she said, with an eye on her father who was discussing politics with Lord Maudling.
“Of course, Miss Lacey. You shall have my undivided attention.” His warm glance embraced her, roaming from her face to her waist and back to her mouth. Was there an implied message in his response, or had her imagination galloped ahead to the intimacy she planned to share with him?
She lowered her lashes at the delicious quiver rushing through her. Her one night of sin. Breathing deeply, Bella discreetly engaged the lady at her elbow in conversation. While they spoke of the beautiful gowns on display, she studied Eaglestone’s effect on the assembled gathering. Most of the ladies turned to follow his progress through the room. Men who sought his advice were met with a perfectly cordial, yet cool, response. No one openly cut him, despite the scandalous rumors attached to him. Perhaps they, like Lord Maudling, hoped a little of his luck and undeniable talent would rub off on them.
London had been abuzz with rumors about Eaglestone for years: that he’d indulged in a very public and scandalous affair with the wife of another peer and that he had shot the husband in a duel. She’d overheard one of her father’s associates express doubts that all of Eaglestone’s business dealings were aboveboard. That had given her pause, but as nothing had been proven, Bella put the remark down to envy.
The gentlemen who sought him out weren’t averse to believing the worst, but tonight they were like hungry sparrow hawks, hoping for any crumb of wisdom that Eaglestone might throw them. Such hypocrisy.
She gained her knowledge of the viscount from reading her father’s broadsheets and her mother’s scandal sheets and tidbits when she pressed an ear to the door while the men drank port after dinner. Bella had also taken the bold step of writing to Eaglestone’s private secretary, inquiring as to the viscount’s philanthropic interests. It had taken some digging to discover he supported several worthy causes, which was another surprising thing about him. As she’d expected, the secretary had politely fobbed her off, but the hope remained that her letter had piqued Eaglestone’s interest.
Amid the nonsense the gossipmongers spread, one fact remained unchallenged. The man was a rake. A rake was precisely what she required, a decidedly wealthy one. Bella intended to do two things before her marriage to the man her father had chosen for her: to persuade a man of means to support her charity and to make love with a rake, in no particular order, but it seemed practical to obtain both from the same man. Before she married Maudling.
The ghastly thought of what marriage to the earl would be like cast her into deep gloom.
“That’s an unhappy face on one so comely.”
Bella rearranged her features into a smile. “Merely a brief thought.”
“Is there something I might do to improve your thoughts?”
He’d already helped, just by standing there. Why had she thought his eyes stony? Right at this moment, they seemed lit by an inner fire and kindled a corresponding warmth in her. The man’s essence should be bottled and sold to lonely women. Bella took control of her rampaging thoughts. “How very kind of you, sir, and not at all necessary I assure you. I have the matter in hand.”
Bella’s gaze dropped to his hands, large and long fingered. What he might accomplish with them on her body caused her to inhale sharply. She must get a grip on herself. She firmed her mouth when his gaze settled there.