Utterly Devoted Read Free

and she chided herself on her attitude. Any young lady on the ton should be pleased to attract his regard. He was gentle, thoughtful, and endlessly polite. He was also wealthy, titled, and possessed of a good family. His short brown hair curled endearingly around a cherubic face. His physique was manly, if a bit on the heavy side. He always dressed with restraint. No one, she was sure, would find fault with his camel-colored coat of wool superfine or buff pantaloons. Even his white cravat was simply tied.
    She was pleased he had sought her out. His family was known for having exacting standards when it came to the qualifications of brides. Indeed, she had never quaked quite so much as when she had been presented to his mother last week. But Lady Nathaniel had been as gracious as her son. Surely the fact that they accepted her was proof that she had finally achieved respect among the members of the ton.
    Cleo was just as certain. “You are making your mark at last,” she had told her earlier as they waited for Cleo’s husband, the Marquis of Hastings, to escort them to Almack’s. “I cannot tell you how delighted I am that you have put that reprehensible Jareth Darby out of your mind.”
    Eloise had merely smiled. Truth be told, if Cleo knew how often she thought of Jareth Darby, her friend would surely despair.
    It was difficult to forget the first man she had ever loved, even more so because he had forsaken that love. His attentions had seemed so romantic then. Even now, there were moments she found Viscount Nathaniel sadly lacking in comparison. Of course, the chivalrous viscount was also far less likely to trample her heart. She should apply herself to the task of cementing her place in his affections.
    She followed him through the pattern of the dance, fluttering her lashes from long practice and casting him covert glances from the corner of her eyes. With an odd number of couples in the line, she knew that she and Lord Nathaniel would have to take a turn at standing out. When they stepped aside, she smiled brightly at him.
    “I so enjoy our time together, my lord,” she confided, gazing at him from under her lashes.
    His smile was warm. “As I do, Miss Watkin. And may I say that you dance divinely?”
    She kept her smile to herself as she made a circle with the toe of her green kid slipper on the polished wood floor, knowing the movement drew attention to her long legs. “You are too kind, my lord.”
    “Not at all.” His assurance was fervent. “Rarely have I seen anyone so poised. Many young ladies show an inappropriate passion for the dance.” He nodded down the set to where Lady Thomas DeGuis was laughing as her doting husband swung her to the left.
    Eloise felt a slight chill and wished for the paisley shawl she had brought with her. She forced herself not to be so common as to rub her arms where they were bared between her long gloves and the cap sleeves of her satin gown.
    “You cannot compare my feeble skills to those of Lady DeGuis,” she told the viscount. “Besides, surely passion such as hers should be praised.”
    “Yes, I had heard that her efforts for the unfortunate here in London are tireless,” he allowed, eying the lady in question thoughtfully before returning his gaze to Eloise. “As are yours, I believe. Did I not hear that you are assisting her?”
    Eloise smiled. “For the last few weeks. I find her work admirable and was lucky that we shared a mutual acquaintance in Lord Hastings. I prevailed upon him to introduce us. He is a great admirer of the lady as well.”
    “Some ladies should be admired,” he murmured, taking her hand for a quick kiss. Eloise willed the caress to thrill her, but instead the only emotion she felt was a minor satisfaction. She allowed him to return her to the dance.
    But though she danced with her usual flair, she found herself repeating his words in her mind. He admired her. Lord Hastings admired her. Lady DeGuis admired her. It appeared that the