Tempted By the Night Read Free Page B

through all the willing candidates?”
    “My, my,” he said, tipping his head as he studied her. “Sharp-tongued as always. And not concentrating on the task at hand.” He nodded toward the trio of young debutantes gathered in the outskirts of Almack’s fashionable set. “Shouldn’t be all that hard for someone of your talents to go over there and steal it off her hand. You got it off mine quite handily.”
    “You were drunk and in the arms of your mistress,” she pointed out, her gaze not leaving the object of her quest. Lady Hermione Marlowe. As long as the lady was encircled by her friends, it wouldn’t be as easy to steal the ring as Milton liked to think.
    “Such a quibbling point,” he replied, glancing down at his hand—the one that had worn the ring during their short-lived marriage. “I daresay you were lucky yesterday that her wish was interrupted and that she wasn’t able to finish it. Now go get my ring.”
    “And how do you propose I do that? Go up and ask her for it? Excuse me, Lady Hermione, but do you mind returning that ring to me? You see, it possesses more power than you could suppose, and if you were to make a wish, I would have to grant it.”
    Milton made a rude noise and took to studying their prey. “She might make it easy and wish for a cup of lemonade and be done with it.”
    “You obviously haven’t had any of the lemonade,” Quince remarked, then shook her head, studying their quarry for a moment. “No, I fear if Lady Hermione wishes for anything tonight, it will have to do with—”
    “Wha-a-at the devil is he doing here?” Milton said, his words coming out in choked panic.
    Quince glanced up to the entrance and gaped as the Earl of Rockhurst came striding into the grand room.
    “This is your doing, isn’t it?” Milton turned to her. “Some jest on my behalf?”
    But she wasn’t listening. Ring or not, she wasn’t about to cross paths with the Earl of Rockhurst. She turned to go the other way, any way that would take her well away from him, but Milton had caught hold of her arm and held her fast.
    “Quince,” Milton ground out as he gave her a small shake. “Did you bring him here?”
    She glanced first down at his hand on her arm, then up at him. “Whyever would I do that?”
    “You tell me,” Milton shot back, a light of panic she’d never seen blazing in his eyes. “I don’t care what sort of nonsensical plan you’ve conjured to punish me, but there is one thing for certain: you aren’t leaving this room without my ring. Now, I command you to go get it.”
    “You command me?” She laughed, then slipped out of his grasp and melded into the crowd before he could stop her. If there was one thing Quince knew about Milton, it was that he deplored mingling with people, something she was counting on.
    “Quince, return to me at once. This isn’t amusing,” he whispered in the direction she’d fled. “There will be trouble with this. You mark my words. I’ll not be responsible if she—”
    Then he felt the beginning of the tremble that boded only one thing.
    That it was indeed too late.
    For Hermione Marlowe had also seen the Earl of Rockhurst arrive, and with almost her next breath, cast her wish.
     
    Lady Hermione Marlowe stood in the wings and looked around the crowded room. Almack’s. Again. She heaved a sigh.
    “He’ll be right back,” her friend, Miss India Buxton said, nodding toward the punch table, where a young lordling was securing a cup of tepid lemonade with great flair and chivalry.
    “Who?” Hermione asked.
    “Lord Hustings,” Lady Thomasin Winsley said. “Gracious heavens, Minny, you’ve forgotten him already, haven’t you?”
    “I don’t see how you could,” India declared. “He’s all but asked for your hand.”
    “I don’t want him to ask for it,” Hermione said. “He’s so…so…”
    “Dull,” Thomasin said, nodding in agreement.
    Oh, ever so dull. Hermione was afraid that was about the kindest thing she could