Rogue's Lady

“Will, what is wrong?” Lucilla asked.

“That girl in the saffron gown.” Will angled his chin toward the doorway. “Who is she?”

His cousin looked in the direction he’d indicated. “The one walking with the woman in widow’s black?” When he nodded impatiently, she continued, “Miss Allegra Antinori. Despite the foreign name, she’s from the Montesgue family—Viscount Conwyn is her grandfather. She’s the ward of a distant connection of her mother, Lord Lynton—” Lucilla indicated the blond gentleman escorting the two ladies “—whose cousin, Mrs. Randall, is her chaperone.”

“Allegra,” Will repeated, the music of her name lingering on his tongue. “And she’s unmarried?” If unwed and possessed of an entrée to this gathering, she must definitely be on the Marriage Mart. Lucilla’s idea of beguiling a well-bred maid suddenly seemed much more appealing.

Lucilla glanced at his face, no doubt perceiving the avid interest in his eyes. Thankfully she didn’t cast her glance lower, or she might have discerned rather pointed evidence of the strength of that interest.

“Yes, she’s unmarried and eligible—I suppose. Though I don’t know if the dowry left her by the late Lord Lynton would be adequate to your needs.”

Ignoring for the moment the matter of wealth, the hesitation in Lucilla’s voice prompted him to ask, “You ‘suppose’ she is eligible?”

Lucilla sighed. “’Tis a rather old scandal. Her mother, Lady Grace, Viscount Conwyn’s youngest daughter, ruined herself by running off with a foreigner. After her parents’ deaths, the girl returned to live with the Lyntons, who were the only of her mother’s relations who did not shun the connection after her mother’s misalliance. But for that one blot upon the family escutcheon, Miss Antinori’s breeding is unexceptional—though the highest sticklers would probably not agree. Still, if her fortune is sufficient, she has a chance of making an acceptable match. At least I hope so, not being one for holding the sins of the parent against the child.”

“You never did so in the past,” Will murmured, feeling another level of connection to the alluring Miss Antinori.

Just then, the girl looked up and caught him staring at her. As her dark eyes locked on his, Will’s nerves tingled and a warmth swept through him, as if he’d suddenly stepped from shadow into sunlight.

Despite the information Lucilla had just given him indicating Miss Antinori’s reception by society might be uncertain, at discovering herself to be the object of scrutiny, the girl neither blushed nor looked away. For a long moment, she held his gaze coolly. Will felt the charged force of the link between them, like the tension on the lead between a trainer and the green colt he is trying to master.

Then, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, she turned her face away, took Lord Lynton’s arm and walked with him into the crowd of guests.

Shaken by that wordless encounter, Will turned back to Lucilla. It seemed there was not enough air in the room, for he had to catch his breath before he could speak. “Despite a childhood spent banished from society,” he said at last, “the girl seems poised enough. Where did Lady Grace and her daughter end up?”

“Her father was a musician, I’m told, so—”

“Don’t tell me she’s the daughter of Emilio Antinori!” Will interrupted, the vague flicker of recognition in his brain suddenly flaming into focus.

“Why, yes. You’ve heard of him? Well, of course you would have,” Lucilla concluded, “as interested in music as you’ve always been. He was good, I take it?”

Will laughed, his gaze following the girl as she made her way through the room on her escort’s arm. “‘Good’ is hardly adequate to describe the work of Emilio Antinori. The man was a genius, not just the most talented violinist since Haydn, but also a composer whose works rival in depth and complexity those of Bach and Beethoven. I once had the privilege of watching him play. Amazing.”

Though he’d attended the concert more than ten years ago, Will could still hear the high, pure vibrato notes, see the flying fingers that made the intricate progression of arpeggios seem effortless while the intensity of melody held him mesmerized. If he’d had a fraction of the talent of the great Antinori, he would have turned his back on his heritage and become a professional musician.

With an ache of regret that the world had lost such a talent, Will came back to the present to find Lucilla watching him, a faint smile on her lips. “Do I get my dance now?” she asked. “Or, given that look in your eye, must there be introductions first?”

“You can present me to Miss Antinori?” he asked eagerly.

“I met her while paying afternoon calls. She seems nice enough. Her cousin and sponsor, Robert Lynton, the new Lord Lynton, was a classmate of Domcaster’s at Oxford.”

“Rob Lynton? Yes, I remember him from school. Present me then, if you please.”

Lucilla’s smile faded. “There’s one other complication you should know about. With Lynton sponsoring Miss Antinori, one would expect Lady Lynton to be her chaperone, but apparently the two do not get on. I don’t know Robert’s stepmother—she made her bow after Domcaster and I retired to the country. I’m told that after several years as society’s reigning Diamond, she married the late Lord Lynton only last year.”

Will recalled a well-curved blond beauty with blue eyes and a coquettish manner ill-suited to her status as a new bride. “I believe I have met Lady Lynton.”

“As a handsome man with a rakish reputation, I imagine you have,” Lucilla retorted with a sniff. “Though she makes quite a display of mourning, I’ve heard Sapphira Lynton has never gotten over being society’s darling, the only child doted on by her papa. The Lyntons are quite wealthy, which I suppose explains why she accepted that offer out of the scores she’s reputed to have received. Though I also understand that while her husband lay dying, ’twas Miss Antinori who nursed her relation while Lynton’s ‘distraught’ wife consoled herself with her cicisbos.”

Having already formed a dim opinion of a lady who’d been casting out lures to other men when the wedding ring had scarcely settled on her finger, Will could readily believe it. “And the happy family resides all together? Quite an accomplishment.”

Lucilla chuckled. “It must be indeed. I’ll present you if you insist, though I’d much rather your interest were piqued by a chit of more…conventional upbringing.”

“Like Miss Benton-Wythe?” he asked dryly. Before Lucilla could answer, he grinned and added, “Didn’t you say you’d not hold her mother’s lapses against Miss Antinori?”

“One always hopes the brave soul risking censure by doing the good deed will not be one’s friend or relation.”

“Given my past, I can hardly hold the prospect of scandal against her,” Will pointed out.

“Which is precisely why you need to approach only girls of unquestioned reputation!” Lucilla retorted. “Very well, I’ll present you. Although—” she gave him a rueful look “—for the reasons we’ve just mentioned, Lynton might well prefer that I not present you to his ward.”

“So the two black sheep do not further sully each other’s wool,” Will surmised.

“It would be more prudent,” Lucilla agreed.

His cousin was right. For a long moment, Will hesitated, torn between Lucilla’s sensible advice…and the remembered force of Miss Antinori’s gaze.

It was only an introduction, he reasoned. The girl might turn out to be a beautiful widget, as feather-brained as Miss Benton-Wythe or as tongue-tied as poor Miss Rysdale. Though given the cool confidence with which she had held his gaze, he didn’t think so.

Enough pondering. He would do it, Will decided. Nodding to Lucilla, he offered his arm. Together they set off toward where Miss Antinori and Lord Lynton had disappeared into the crowd.

“One final matter,” Lucilla murmured as they approached. “If after the introductions, Lynton allows you to converse with the lady, I beg you will not distress her by inquiring about her scandalous father—no matter how much you admired him as a musician. I imagine that’s one topic she wishes to strictly avoid.”

In the next instant, they reached their party and Lucilla called Lynton’s name. With his ward on his arm, he turned toward them—and Will sucked in a breath.

Miss Antinori seen close up was even more enchanting than Miss Antinori viewed from a distance. Her glossy dark hair, piled atop her head in an intricate arrangement threaded through with gold ribbon and pearls, just reached his chin. Her perfume, a spicy waft of lavender, enveloped him as she gazed up, those dark, extravagantly lashed eyes wary. His gaze roved across the satin plane of her cheeks down to the lush fullness of her apricot lips.

Sweat broke out on his brow and he had to remind himself to keep breathing. But then he couldn’t help himself, he simply had to sneak a quick glance downward, across the elegant curve of neck and shoulder down to that voluptuous, mouth-watering swell of bosom.

Oh, that he might repeat that journey of the eyes with his fingertips, his tongue!

While the rush of sensation in his body threatened to overwhelm him, Will tried to remind himself that Miss Antinori was a lady—an innocent, virginal maiden. He must not think of her in this way, no matter how much she reminded him of the delightfully passionate and inventive ballerina he’d once had the pleasure of loving, before a peer with a larger purse had stolen her away.

As if in a daze, he heard himself murmur a greeting to Lynton and the chaperone, who responded in turn. Not until Lucilla presented him and he saw Miss Antinori curtsey was he finally able to wrench his mind free of the sensual fantasies. Seizing the hand she offered, he bowed and touched his lips to the air above them, rich with her potent scent.

“Miss Antinori, it is my profound pleasure.”

CHAPTER FIVE

A FLURRY OF THOUGHTS whirled through Allegra’s mind as the dark-garbed gentleman bowed before her, the clasp of his hand making her fingers tingle beneath her gloves. So this was the “divine” Lord Tavener Sapphira’s friends had discussed with such relish. Was he mocking or admiring her?

Though Rob had complimented her appearance tonight, he had not examined her as thoroughly as the bold-eyed man bowing over her hand, who’d tried to stare her out of countenance a few moments ago. Not at all ashamed of her parents or her upbringing, she’d met the man’s gaze proudly…and felt a sharp, strong sensation almost like a shock, so unusual and unexpected she’d had great difficulty maintaining her composure.

As with his profession of “profound pleasure” in meeting her just now, she wasn’t sure whether he’d intended to admire or disparage. So how to respond?

Excruciating politeness would be best, she decided, trying not to be distracted by her still-tingling fingers. “I am equally pleased to meet you, Lord Tavener,” she said coolly, removing her hand from his disturbing grip. If he’d meant to mock, she’d just returned the favor.

He seemed to understand that, for as he straightened, he grinned at her. “A lady as clever as she is lovely. Now that is a double delight,” he replied.