My Lady Rival Read Free Page B

who’d probably complimented her on how lovely she was and then kindly asked her to dance?
    He tugged his mother toward Jo, intent on intervening and reminding Jo of her good manners, even if he did have to wade through a sea of peacocks, bulls, and unicorns to do so—when another woman crashed into his side.
    He stumbled, lifting his hands to steady himself and the masked stranger. He half expected to see Lady Peacock again, with her large green eyes and wide smile. Instead, as the woman removed her head from his shoulder and looked up, he found himself staring into blue eyes—eyes the color of the ocean, surrounded by a landscape of diamonds and bordered by gold. She glanced away, laughed, then looked back, her eyelashes sweeping. “Oh, I do beg your pardon!” He knew her.
    The thought was faint but immediate, a shock of familiarity. How did he know her? Was she someone he’d met on the Continent, or the daughter of a duke Lunsford had pointed out during a ride in Hyde Park?
    The mouth beneath her mask curved, waiting for his response. But before he could reply, she said, “I believe this is the part where you assure me it wasn’t my fault.”
    Framed by the sleeves of her violet gown, her shoulders were slim beneath his hands. A fool would have mistaken their slenderness for fragility and not sensed the strength poised beneath his fingertips. He had hoped his mother’s purple dress would make her feel like royalty, but it was apparent the woman before him dress would make her feel like royalty, but it was apparent the woman before him needed no such ruse. Though the crowd had made her clumsy, “strength” and
    “poise,” “grace” and “charm” were all words that he associated with her after only a moment’s passing. “Beauty,” too, if he were to judge based only on a study of her lips and eyes.
    A nd he had no doubt that if he gave her an apology she would dismiss him and be on her way.
    “I assure you, my lady, it was entirely your fault. A fter all, you were the one who crashed into me.”
    Her chin lifted. Behind her excessively gaudy mask, he imagined that her eyebrows did the same. “You believe I bumped into you deliberately?” A lex didn’t remove his hands from her shoulders. He knew she was also very aware of this fact, and yet neither of them gave voice to the impropriety. The crowd kept them close, gave him reason to hold on to her for balance for both their sakes. “Or perhaps I saw you veering toward me and made it inevitable that you would fall into my arms.”
    She lifted her fingers to his wrists and freed herself from his touch. His arms fell to his sides. “My apologies for the collision, my lord. I will take the blame.” Her voice held the musical air of bells, softening the aristocratic syllables into something warm and inviting. It lingered like an echo in his mind, and A lex sifted through memories, intent to locate her. A ny hint of a recollection dissipated at the slow, intimate turn of her lips. “I also bear the responsibility of taking pleasure in such a meeting. If you see me again later in the evening, my lord, please—feel welcome to crash into me next.”
    The short exchange ended, the rest of the ball attendees surging and pushing and edging past them. But whereas he’d turned away when the Lady Peacock left, A lex’s gaze remained on the woman with the ocean blue eyes for several minutes, following her path as she threaded her way through the other guests.
    “She seemed nice, too,” his mother said behind him. A lex glanced over his shoulder. A wisp of humor, so faint others might not have seen it, hung at the corners of her mouth.
    A lex smiled. “Possibly even nicer than the first.” He offered his arm again. “Now, let’s try to find Jo lest she offends half of London on only our first night. I’d expected it would take at least three.”
    But as they gradually shuffled through the crowd of ill-conceived animal costumes, gods and goddesses, and a