He scowled darkly. ‘There are many ways in which to have fun, Genevieve,’ he drawled softly. ‘And I believe, if you were to reflect, that you would realise that I have a much better … understanding of them than Sandhurst.’
She raised her brows. ‘Perhaps one day I might consider comparing that … understanding, and so decide for myself if that is so, but not today.’
Lucifer frowned darkly. ‘You are being extremely naïve in believing you will only be asked to enjoy “adventure and fun” with one such as Charlie Brooks.’
Genevieve was having fun right now, if truth be told. She had been very young when she married Josiah, with little opportunity to flirt with other men before that marriage; but even so, she had absolutely no doubts that she had now piqued Benedict Lucas’s interest by refusing to be in the least attracted to his dark and brooding good looks.
She might indeed be as naïve as Benedict Lucas had just accused her of being in regard to the behaviour of the gentlemen of the ton, but she was not stupid, and a man such as he would obviously see no challenge whatsoever in the easy conquest he had so obviously believed Genevieve might be to his lazily arrogant charms. It was, she acknowledged with wonder, quite deliciously enticing to know that she had aroused the interest of such a dangerous and elusive gentleman …
She gave a shrug. ‘As I said, I wish to be wooed a little before I would ever consider taking any gentleman as my lover.’
‘Sandhurst—’
‘—sent me flowers and chocolates earlier today. Accompanied by a beautifully worded card.’ She smiled at the memory.
‘Only because he is hoping to entice you into sharing his bed later this evening!’
‘I am aware of that, of course,’ Genevieve acknowledged with a cool inclination of her head. ‘But Sandhurst hoping for such an outcome to the evening will not make it so.’
Had Benedict ever felt such frustration and anger with a woman before? He could not remember doing so. Indeed, he rarely if ever allowed himself to express strong emotions of any kind. Which was not to say he did not feel them, only that he chose not to reveal those emotions to others. ‘I fail to see anything in the least romantic in Sandhurst plying you with flowers and chocolates, and prettily worded cards …’ his top lip curled up with distaste ‘… for the sole purpose of expecting you to go to bed with him immediately after the two of you have dined privately together.’
Genevieve eyed him mockingly. ‘And would you not have expected the same from me, without benefit of flowers and chocolates and prettily worded cards, if I had agreed to meet you at Lady Hammond’s ball later this evening?’
He snorted his impatience. ‘If that is so, then at least I have been honest in my intentions.’
She gave him a pitying glance. ‘Perhaps too much so …?’
His nostrils flared. ‘You are an extremely aggravating woman, Genevieve!’
She gave a surprised laugh. ‘Now that truly is honest, Benedict.’
Those black eyes glowered across the carriage at her. He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘You will find me at Lady Hammond’s ball later this evening if that should be your choice.’
She gave another cool inclination of her head. ‘I will keep your gracious offer in mind. Now, if you would not mind …?’ She glanced pointedly towards the carriage door, leaving Benedict with no other choice but to alight from the carriage before turning to offer Genevieve his hand as she stepped down beside him. She gave him another cool nod before turning to gracefully climb the steps to the front door of her home, which opened immediately for her entrance before closing firmly behind her.
All, Benedict noted broodingly, without so much as a backwards glance in his direction …
Chapter Two
‘Has Sandhurst displeased you in some way?’
Benedict turned to raise dark, questioning brows at the short and rotund gentleman who had joined him as he stood beside the crowded dance floor in Lady Hammond’s ballroom. ‘And why should you think he has displeased me?’ He spoke loudly to be heard over the noisy chatter and laughter of the three hundred or so members of the ton squeezed into the candlelit ballroom, the bell-like laughter of one person in particular catching his ear.
‘Possibly because you have been glowering at him for the past several minutes?’ Lord Eric Cargill, the Earl of Dartmouth and Benedict’s godfather, chuckled wryly.
Benedict deliberately turned his back upon the couples dancing. ‘I was merely trying to understand in what way Sandhurst might possibly be perceived as resembling a Greek god,’ he drawled dismissively.
‘Oh?’ The earl’s surprised grey brows shot up into his thinning hairline.
Benedict gave a self-derisive smile. ‘Not for my own edification, you understand.’
‘Ah.’ The older man nodded in obvious relief, before then giving a slow shake of his head. ‘No, I am afraid I do not understand in the least?’
‘No reason why you should,’ Benedict dismissed briskly, having no intention of confiding that the reason for his own interest was currently dancing in the other man’s arms!
The earl eyed him piercingly for several minutes before obviously dismissing the subject as being unimportant. ‘If I had known you were to be here this evening, then I would not have bothered to come myself.’ He grimaced. He had served as a colonel in the army for many years, and was now spymaster for the Crown under the guise of a minor ministerial post, but was no more a lover of society balls than Benedict.
‘And in doing so you would have also have deprived my Aunt Cynthia the pleasure of attending, too,’ he drawled mockingly. The earl and countess had become his aunt and uncle by long association, the couple having adopted him as their own since the death of his parents, their own long marriage sadly childless.
‘There is that to consider.’ The earl chuckled, brown eyes twinkling merrily. ‘But, much as I intend to enjoy her expression of gratitude later this evening, I am not sure even that is worth the tedious hours I have already suffered tonight in the line of duty!’ His eyes narrowed as he turned to look at the couples still dancing. ‘Who is the beautiful young woman currently dancing with Sandhurst?’
‘I believe it to be the Duchess of Woollerton.’ Benedict had no need to turn and look across the room to know the identity of that ‘beautiful young woman’.
Eric Cargill gave him a cursory glance. ‘I was not aware that Forster had taken a wife?’
‘Perhaps I should have said the widowed Duchess,’ Benedict corrected lightly.
The earl’s brows rose again. ‘That young beauty is the child-bride Josiah Forster’s kept shut away in the country from the moment he had married and bedded her?’
Benedict winced at the crudeness of his uncle’s statement. ‘So it would appear.’
‘I had no idea …’ the older man murmured appreciatively.
‘You
