To Tempt a Scandalous Lord by Liana De la Rosa
Chapter Six
The beginning notes of the waltz floated through the room, and Alicia’s emotions fluctuated between relief and indignation when she did not see Lord Inverray.
She had promised him this dance, but as discussion of her latest tract had circulated amongst the elegantly dressed guests in the Talbots’ brightly lit ballroom as fire spread through a field of dry wheat, she worried he would bring up the topic. Alicia was pleased people were responding to her essays, but wasn’t certain she wanted to discuss her newest one with the subject of her critique.
Despite how she nervously scanned the ballroom for a sign of him, mumbling a prayer under her breath that he decided to stay home for the night, she didn’t regret the words she’d written. She’d been honest and forthright in her assessment of his candidacy…even as she acknowledged she was just a bit captivated by him. The marquess reminded her of a great lion who had blunted his claws; he may not slash you if you taunt him, but he might still crush you with his powerful jaws. She saw that same compelling intensity in Inverray, and was helplessly, annoyingly, drawn to it.
Spying an empty chair near the corner of the room, Alicia made her way through the chattering crowd toward it. A moment or two of peace was just what she needed to collect herself. Plus, her slippers were pinching her feet.
As she stepped around a cluster of chattering matrons, a hand suddenly grasped hers. Glancing over her shoulder, she was abruptly trapped in the Marquess of Inverray’s stormy gray eyes.
“Did you forget you promised me this dance?” His deep tenor felt like fingertips trailing down her spine.
Panic made her swallow convulsively, and she shook her head. “Of course not. I thought perhaps you’d forgotten.”
His smirk expressed his disbelief. “When I’ve been looking forward to it all evening? I think not.”
Goodness, she hadn’t expected pretty words to fall from the marquess’s mouth. Inverray did not release her hand, and the heat of his palm radiated to hers, sending her pulse racing.
Lifting her chin, she said, “And yet I’ve not seen you all evening, so it’s easy to imagine you’ve been using that same line on every woman you’ve danced with.”
His grip on her hand tightened. “This would be my first dance of the evening, my lady. I’ve had no interest before this set.”
Oh. Inverray looked down at her with a ghost of a smile on his lips, and her poise wavered. It was so very hard to maintain her customary composure in the face of such a confession, and Alicia’s mental tug-of-war ended abruptly. “Very well.”
He lead her easily amongst the twirling couples, and in a swift turn, one hand was on her waist, while his other hand laced their fingers together. It was such a simple move and yet it felt scandalous. Just clutching his firm shoulder felt intimate, and Alicia tried to ignore the rush of attraction that flooded her blood with any number of wants and desires.
Desires she’d never known or experienced.
His broad chest lay before her gaze, and she longed to run her hand over it, curious to see if it was as hard as it appeared. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulders, and if the scorching hand on her waist was any indication, he would be able to span the width of her with no issue. He was overwhelming. Everything about him threatened to devastate her: the angle of his sharp jaw, the raven curls that caressed his shoulders, the fierce light in his gray eyes. His plush, resolute mouth.
Alicia dropped her gaze from his perfect face to stare at his perfect cravat, willing her thoughts to focus. He didn’t know she was the chapbook writer. There was no reason for her to be intimidated.
They had twice twirled around the perimeter of the dance floor before Inverray spoke.
“Were you interested in politics, in strategizing, before you married the old earl?”
“No.” She wrinkled her nose. “My interest in politics was born out of my desperate desire to have a conversation with my husband when he deigned to visit the family estate during Parliament breaks.”
“Why did Lindsay not bring you to London with him?”
“Because then he would have to live with me. Converse with me. Share the breakfast table with me.” Her snort was inelegant. “Lindsay had no interest in actually interacting in any meaningful way with his doll-wife.”
“Doll-wife?” Inverray frowned. “Is that how the earl treated you? As if you were nothing more than a toy to showcase to his friends?”
Alicia swallowed, the fury bubbling in the marquess’s gaze a surprise. And a delight. Still, she took a moment to settle her turbulent emotions. “Lindsay was good to me. He ensured I wanted for nothing. I just don’t think he ever considered companionship as a necessity.”
Admitting such a truth was acid on her tongue. Lindsay had cared for her when no one else had, but in the years since his death, she could finally admit that it hadn’t been enough.
“I made it a point to understand Lindsay’s interests so I could hold a conversation with him.” Alicia licked her lips. “I was so very eager to speak with someone who experienced life outside of the bubble I had been confined to.”
“How very dreary that sounds.”
“Indeed. Which is why I was determined to come to London after his death. Why I am so thankful for the kindness Lady Firthwell has shown me.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “And you, my lord.”
Inverray was silent for a long moment, although his hand on her waist tightened as they circled around the dance floor. “Even though I have antagonized you over some of the views you’ve expressed?”
“You’ve done no such thing.” Alicia chuckled. “You’ve merely challenged my assertions. Analyzed my opinions. I’d wager an opinion is not worth having if it cannot stand up to even basic scrutiny.”
The marquess pulled her a tad bit closer. “To be perfectly candid with you, I did not want to come tonight. As I am sure you’re already aware, another tract was released today. This time it was critical of both Medlinger and myself, but the thought of walking into this ballroom, knowing the author’s words would be in everyone’s mind when they looked at me, made me want to stay home and nurse a dram of whisky instead.”
A sour knot of emotions coiled in her gut. Alicia had purposely kept her thoughts from Inverray since Effia had accepted her newest essay because she knew he would be upset.
But her imagination had been unable to convey the embarrassment that pitched his deep voice. The hint of pink that stained the crests of his cheeks. That her words had brought this bold, gallant man such disconcertment made her heart throb uncomfortably in her throat.
“But I’m no coward, and my record, my political stances have to be held accountable. I can’t hide away at the first bit of criticism, or else I’d be hiding forever.” His severe face suddenly brightened as a wide grin flashed across his lips. “Plus, the promise of dancing this waltz with you was more than enough inducement to get me out the door.”
They stared at each other until time ceased to exist. She no longer heard the music.
The people that danced around them faded into the ether. At that moment, she was only aware of Inverray. Alicia glimpsed warmth and fondness swirling in his gray eyes, as well as a healthy dose of respect.
Would he look at her in quite the same way if he knew it was her words that had turned his political life on its head? She swallowed back a painful lump. Alicia thought not.
“Niall, will you and Lady Lindsay sit with us during dinner?”
Jerking back, Alicia turned her head and blinked into the Duchess of Ashwood’s smiling face. She had met the woman earlier in the evening, and now she stood with her duke a few feet away, a curious lift to her brows. Only then did Alicia realize the orchestra had ceased playing, and the couples were exiting the dance floor. If they had not been interrupted, how long would they have stared at each other in a silent battle of wills?
“Of course,” Inverray murmured. He moved to step back and a loud ripping sound rent the air.
It took Alicia a moment to understand what it was, and when she did, horror stole her breath away.
His coat had become ensnared in her ruby broach. When the marquess had moved away from her, he’d ripped the broach from her gown along with the bodice. The garment now draped down the middle, giving anyone standing close enough an unobstructed view of her lace chemise and corset.
With a choked cry, Alicia gathered the tattered bits of bodice about her as she attempted to shield herself from the crowd beginning to take note that something was wrong.
“Lady Lindsay, you appear cold. Why don’t you take my wrap to warm yourself?” Juliana said, not waiting for Alicia to respond before she draped her silk shawl about her shoulders.
Alicia grasped it eagerly, tucking it about herself. Calling on every ounce of courage she had, she looked up at the marquess. But he wasn’t looking at her. Following the direction of his stare, dread crushed down upon her like granite stones as she took in the curious guests surrounding them. Guests who were already whispering behind their hands. When Lady Ellis broke propriety to point at Niall, Alicia whipped her head around to see why.
Her broach, and the torn piece of her red gown, were still stuck to his coat. Like an overambitious predator, it dangled from him as if it might subdue him at any moment. It was obvious the bits of material had come from her gown, and Alicia longed to call on the earth to open and swallow her whole.
The random scraps of conversation happening around her revealed no one really knew what had occurred, but they all had an opinion about it.
Do you suppose he attacked her and ripped her gown?
They were dancing too close…
Typical Scotsman, no doubt overcome with lust.
A sharp gasp flew from her mouth. They thought Inverray had attacked her? On a crowded Mayfair dance floor? Why they would ever think the marquess capable of such atrocious behavior, she did not know, but…but perhaps she did. For all of Inverray’s success and wealth and status, he would still always be considered a Scotsman who didn’t know his place.
The injustice of it had her opening her mouth to defend his honor, when Inverray’s hand closed around her arm.
“I thank you all for your concern for Lady Lindsay, but it was a silly accident. If she hadn’t been so excited about my offer of marriage, her broach would not have snagged on my coat.” Inverray looked at her, sympathy in his eyes as he said the next words. “I offer my apologies to her ladyship and my future marchioness.”
…
The words slipped around his tightly clenched teeth like water, uttered with no prior consultation with his mind. And yet…they felt natural. Necessary.
It was obvious the countess disagreed for she laughed, as if he had just made a jest. Niall did not fault her. The whole situation had grown completely out of their control.
But what else could he do?
Lady Lindsay’s gown had been falling about her waist, with terror strips of red across her cheekbones, as she clutched the red material to hide herself. In that moment, with his skin humming with frantic energy, Niall had just wanted to protect her. To shield her.
And now she was to be his wife.
Lightheadedness stole away his equilibrium for a moment, and he swayed on his feet.
Wrenching his gaze away from Lady Lindsay, he looked to Juliana. Niall swallowed when his sister nodded, as if all the words that had fallen from Inverray’s lips were logical and true.
The countess hiccupped a giggle. “Surely you must be joking,” she whispered.
The weight of the crowd’s stares fixed on them was starting to suffocate, and Niall knew they had to play their part in the scandal unfurling like a pirate’s flag about them or all would be ruined.
“We must salvage your reputation,” he said, hoping she understood. But when she met his gaze, remorse had dulled her normally bright eyes.
They were well and truly sunk.