Shirley Kerr Read Free

suddenly stood before him. His smile widened at the sight of the mysterious blond miss standing next to Lady Gatwick.
    “Viscount Moncreiffe, may I introduce Miss Charlotte Parnell?”

Chapter 2
    T he blonde blushed prettily and batted her eyelashes as she rose from her curtsy. No spark of recognition flared in her eyes. Her smile was correctly polite and did not falter as she made the briefest of eye contact before resting her gaze on his cravat.
    Alistair was certain it was her. Unmistakable blue eyes. He decided, again, to play along with her game. After performing the niceties, and both women looking at him expectantly as the quadrille ended, Alistair led Miss Parnell out as the orchestra began a waltz.
    Perhaps she wasn’t playing a game this time. Did she really not recognize him from the street? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about their initial encounter.
    “Oh, la, my lord,” she said as they took their positions for the dance. “You’re so tall, I scarce can reach your shoulder.” She batted her eyelashes again.
    Alistair had opened his mouth to speak, but closed it in surprise.
    She glanced to her left as a couple passed by, the lady’s crimson skirts brushing Miss Parnell’s pale blue velvet gown.
    “Such a shocking display of flesh,” she said, half to herself. She looked up at Alistair. “But isn’t that a most darling reticule?”
    Miss Parnell continued with her vapid commentary on the dancers they passed. Alistair began to fear she was just as empty-headed as she appeared. Had someone coached her into her brazen behavior this afternoon? Surely such a silly creature could not have come up with such a tactic by herself.
    To her credit, she danced divinely, following his lead easily, as if they’d partnered each other often. Her subtle scent of rosewater teased his senses as they moved across the dance floor.
    He adjusted his hand at her waist, feeling her lush curve beneath the smooth velvet of her dress. Her gown was quite proper, the light color typical of a young miss, the neckline cut low enough to give a hint of her charms yet high enough to still be decorous. But their close proximity during the waltz, and the advantage of Alistair’s height, gave him an excellent view of her bosom. He couldn’t help noticing a freckle on the inner curve of her left breast, a perfect little dark circle on her creamy flesh that rose and fell with her every breath. Her voice had become breathy from the exertion of the dance and the effort of talking nonsense nonstop.
    With a start, he realized she had stopped talking. Feeling a slight twinge of guilt, he raised his gaze to meet hers. Her blue eyes sparkled, and for an instant he thought he saw a gleam of satisfaction. But she batted her lashes, and the vapid smile was once more firmly in place.
    “Isn’t the dry weather lovely, my lord? My aunt predicts it will still be clear for Lady Bainbridge’s Venetian breakfast in two days. Aunt’s hip is never wrong when it comes to predicting rain.”
    Clear skies meant great observations, if he could get out of the city, or at least up onto the rooftops. If he could get away from his father and grandfather.
    “The dry weather should increase the longevity of that bonnet you were admiring this afternoon.”
    Her step faltered, and he tightened his grip on her hand and waist to help her stay upright. He hid his satisfaction at her momentary astonishment, though he wasn’t sure if her reaction was for the way he’d practically picked her up off her feet, or for drawing attention to the elephant in the room between them.
    “Yes, about this afternoon…”
    He eased his hold, letting her support her full weight again. “Yes, Miss Parnell?”
    “I…I wanted to thank you, for going along with, ah, my little game.” She batted her lashes at him. “I’m afraid I outpaced my maid, and there were some people on the street that I did not wish to see me walking alone.”
    He’d wager a guinea there