The Marquis At Midnight Read Free

make a habit of engaging in
small talk with ladies. She would be attractive, he decided.
Probably no great beauty, but she was so relaxed that he could not
help but believe that she was perfectly comfortable with herself.
Plain women, he had frequently noted, were restive creatures that
usually overcompensated by wearing too fussy clothing. The woman he
was dancing with was elegant. Not, he surmised, in the first blush
of youth, she was far too confident for that, but not matronly,
either. Her voice was vibrant, her movements that of a still
youthful woman.
    You sound as if you are
evaluating her for the position of wife. The marquis was startled by the thought. He had not put
himself out to find a wife for himself as yet. That unwelcome task
was yet to come and at two and thirty he was in no particular hurry
despite his mother’s opinions to the contrary, but a woman such as
the one in his arms… If he could secure a woman like this as his
wife, perhaps the task might not seem so onerous.
    What an absurd
thought! I really must find
Judith ... But Morvyn’s feet continued to
move around the dance floor, breathing in the scent of the warm,
soft creature in his arms and all thought of his sister disappeared
once again.
     
    Who is this
man ? Grace mused, feeling the heat from the
large hand on her back radiating through the thin satin of her
dress. It had been kind of him to rescue her from her previous
partner. If she had realized the poor fellow was so well foxed she
would not have accepted his invitation, but it wasn’t until the
music had started that he’d shown just how inebriated he
was.
    Her new partner certainly wasn’t drunk. He
danced competently, although she could tell that dancing did not
figure large in his life, which she found oddly charming. He had
rescued her and he had danced with her. It was… sweet.
    She was enjoying this.
Perhaps it had something to do with the glass of champagne Hester
had pressed on her earlier, but Grace didn’t think so. Once again,
she had that same inkling that life might not be entirely over for her.
For the first time since Justin’s death, she felt as if she was
actually waking up. It was delightful to dance in this man’s arms.
He was tall and solid and she liked his awkward, tentative conversation. That deep
voice. Grace was almost sure she had heard it before, but it was
impossible to tell where and when. She had practically been a
hermit for eighteen months, locked away in Yorkshire, although she
had nobody but herself to blame for that. Despite the fact that her
marriage had produced no children, Grace had thought it unlikely
that she could ever contemplate marrying again. The pain of
Justin’s death had cut to deep. At five and twenty she was
certainly a matron but somehow, she felt too young to be matronly . Perhaps if she
had had children…
    Still, here she was,
dancing in the arms of an unknown stranger. An unknown stranger. Grace said the
three words in her head again and shivered with pleasure that felt
almost… wicked.
    He was tall, no doubt about that. He was
definitely dark, if the wealth of springy black locks were any
indication. A tall, dark stranger was even more tantalizing and
Grace smiled to herself. This was a delightful way to reenter the
hectic world that was society. Unknown strangers who did not know
her history, a night of unrelenting dancing and now? Now she
appeared to be finishing her evening in the arms of the most
interesting man she had encountered all night.
    Hester must surely be proud of her for
willingness to embrace such gaiety. Perhaps now she could stop
chiding Grace for behaving like the poor, maudlin creature she
feared she had become.
    As was often the case with such affairs, the
masqueraders were to shed their disguises at midnight and reveal
their true identities. What would she find behind this man’s mask?
She could already see a firm mouth and squared chin, both of which
were in keeping with his rather awkward demeanor.