Although he had said this with a perfectly straight face, he could see the smile tugging at her mouth at this last piece of information. She had beautiful lips, he conceded, full and rosy. “Haven’t you obtained the nod from them as yet?” he asked.
“Goodness, no. They dislike me. I think they consider me too forward.”
“Are you?”
She flushed and turned her face away from him. “They are a bunch of old ladies who wield absolute power in their little kingdom.” She shrugged. “They are entirely too full of their own importance. I have danced the waltz on many occasions at private balls.”
“You dance well.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Gillian gave him a slight inclination of her head, to show the compliment pleased her. Her dislike lessened a fraction. She had been impressed by the way he had silenced all those silly young boys surrounding her. And he did dance smoothly. He was too austere for her taste, however. During the entire dance, she felt as if she were being observed through a quizzing glass.
As the music played, she wondered idly what it would take to get such a man to fall in love with her. She hadn’t a clue, she admitted, observing his dark features. His hair and eyes were nearly black, the hair a trifle long, raked back against a high forehead, his skin unfashionably dark.
With no conscious thought, she compared him to another dark-haired gentleman she’d known. The likeness ended there. The two were nothing alike, either physically or in their character.
She pushed aside the memory and focused on her dance partner. She had never known a man so completely insensitive to her charms. Since her come-out, she was accustomed to receiving praise, if not always in speeches, then certainly in the flattering looks directed her way. Young gentlemen flocked around her to pay her court. They laughed at her sallies and wrote odes to her.
She couldn’t imagine this man behaving in such a manner. His less-than-complimentary assessment of her still rankled. As the dance continued, the idea of contriving an infatuation on his part continued to grow. How would she go about it?
At that second his gaze met hers. She couldn’t read anything in it but indifference, before it strayed beyond her. Once again, she felt her annoyance grow. He could at least have given her a smile.
In half a year, she would be wed to this stranger.
She shuddered inwardly as the full implications gripped her.
She blinked, erasing the image that filled her mind, and set her mind to thinking of the beautiful trousseau she would have and the new measure of independence that marriage would give her. No longer would Templeton dog her every footstep or frown in disapproval at the least action.
Life as the Countess of Skylar was a step upward, she reminded herself. She wouldn’t think about the other aspects of it. Or about the colossal obstacle she’d have to surmount in order to arrive there.
As soon as the dance ended, Lord Skylar took her back to her companions. Miffed that he hadn’t even expressed the desire to dance another set with her, she removed her hand from his as he bowed.
“I shall come by and collect you tomorrow afternoon for a drive around the park. Is three o’clock satisfactory?”
Did he think her acquiescence was to be taken for granted just because their two families had agreed on their betrothal? Did it imply she was not to be won? “I must check my engagement book,” she told him haughtily.
His eyes narrowed. “As I am your intended, I believe I take precedence over any other engagements. I suggest you clear your calendar for my invitations.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“If you prefer we not see each other until our wedding day and bed a stranger that night, be so good as to inform me. I can find suitable occupation and companionship until then, I assure you.”
“You are insulting!” she said through stiff lips.
He gave her a thin smile. “But nevertheless honest. Until tomorrow afternoon then?”
Leaving her no chance to reply, he turned and left.
Chapter Two
L ord Delaney approached Tertius as soon as he saw him alone.
“Well, how goes the courtship?”
Tertius hid a yawn behind his gloved hand. “Normal, I expect.”
“I must say you make a fine couple.” He cleared his throat. “You haven’t taken it amiss your father’s ordering you to marry and choosing your bride for you?”
Sky shrugged. “As long as my affianced has received the proper upbringing and is a virtuous young lady, the two of us should make out tolerably well together.”
Lane smiled. “You can rest easy on that score. Lady Gillian is a diamond of the first water. Your father has chosen the best of the season’s crop.”
Sky’s lip twisted. “I’m sure that was no hardship for him. Women are his specialty.”
Delaney laughed. “Lord Caulfield is an expert in the field of beauty and wit.” He rubbed his hands together. “Speaking of which, the evening is still young. What say we leave this establishment and find greener pastures?”
Sky raised an eyebrow at his friend. “What had you in mind?”
“Since you’ve been away from London so long, why don’t we start by getting you reacquainted with some of the—er—delights of town?”
“The only delights I recall are waking up with my head about to split open like a ripe melon and going to my father like a young whelp, begging him to cover a debt of honor incurred the night before.”
Lane chuckled. “London hasn’t changed much, but I trust you have. You are a man of means. You don’t have to go to your father anymore, do you, to cover your gambling debts?”
“That is one thing that has changed for the better. I also know how to hold my liquor,” he added as the two headed out of the ballroom.
“I have the most delicious thing to show you.”
“Yes? Whereabouts?”
“Drury Lane.” He removed his watch. “We’re in time for the second show. Come along. You shan’t regret it.”
Once seated in Lord Delaney’s box at the theater, Sky observed that the earlier show had been a performance of Richard the Third with Kean. He would have preferred seeing the debut of the actor who was causing such a stir on the London stage to the farce being enacted now.
“See, what do you think?” his friend asked him, leaning forward in his seat.
Taking up his opera glasses, Tertius regarded the players on the stage. He lingered on a pretty actress before replying to Delaney. “The one playing the maidservant?”
“Isn’t she divine? Look at that leg, that shapely calf!”
