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Authors: Michele Sinclair

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BOOK: A Woman Made for Pleasure
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“It does seem easier to remember,” Chase said as he downed the last of his ratafia. He took fortification where he could find it. Unfortunately, that meant enduring Lady Bassel’s favorite potent red wine.
“Aye, that it does. So what brings you into Town? Haven’t seen you in some time.”
So this is the reason for the visit
, Chase concluded.
Edward is curious as to whether I am here for war or familial business
.
Chase lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I’ve come to escort my sister during her first Season.”
“Escort, eh?” his tutor said in disbelief. Edward glanced around the crowd, feigning a search for Aimee. “Ah, there she is. Your sister is quite the looker. Takes after your mother, I see. I do not envy you this Season. No doubt you will be quite busy shooing away the unworthy suitors.”
“I expect so. She seems to have already spoken to several gentlemen.”
“Has she? Do you think she will get a response?”
Chase raised a single eyebrow at his old mentor. Edward had effortlessly launched into double talk, referring to Aimee instead of asking outright about Chase’s earlier activities. Chase decided to play along, curious as to Edward’s intentions.
“She seems to believe so. The men she spoke with appeared to be interested in what she had to say,” Chase answered, referring to his own discussions.
Edward coughed and bobbed his head. “Well, good for her. But tell her not to be too eager. Nothing good comes of it. If she is, in truth, here for her family, that’s fine. But otherwise, she’s waited a long time to come to Town. You might want to warn her that others might find her first actions odd. One does not rush into London and meet privately with so many men so quickly without a purpose.”
Chase heard the warning. His old friend, though retired for several years, had obviously not given up his long-perfected habit of being aware of all that was around him. “I will be sure to tell her,” Chase replied without emotion.
“Good. Now I have to find the dark-haired beauty who struck my fancy earlier this evening.”
Chase’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really, Edward. Which widow are you chasing after, this year?”
“Don’t know exactly. Appears to be a maiden, but she certainly is older than most of the green chits who stroll through here each year. But if she is pure, she is unlike any maiden I have ever seen. Quite bewitching.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “She must be. I thought you avoided the messy entanglements that tended to accompany unwedded ladies.”
“Usually I do—probably still do, but her eyes charmed me as if I were a snake emerging from a wicker basket. Take care, Chaselton. Perhaps I will see you later this Season.”
“Possibly,” Chase replied as he watched his mentor and friend blend in with the crowd and emerge again as one of many admirers surrounding a female of the Season.
As he was about to scan for his three charges, one of the men surrounding Edward’s current interest moved, and Chase glimpsed the woman attracting so much attention. Millie. Suddenly, Edward’s words came back to him—
dark hair, bewitching eyes
.
Chase had taken precautions before they left to minimize his time with Millie. He had waited outside until all the women had shuffled into the Wentworth carriage. When they arrived, he had disappeared into the crowd before she had removed her cloak. Now, seeing her for the first time in her ball gown, he realized he had been either extremely wise or enormously foolish in staying away.
She looked like an ethereal sprite visiting from heaven. Her orchid-colored gown slithered down her trim frame, giving her figure the illusion of height while accentuating her delicate features. The gown’s slightly longer train was simple and unembellished, only adding to Millie’s natural, regal beauty. The neckline was trimmed in stiffened white and silver lace, framing her neck as it scooped from one small puffed sleeve to the other. Two strands of pearls matching the ones in her hair completed the look. Chase stared transfixed at the woman he used to call
twig
.
As the crowd continued to swell around her, he felt unbearably possessive, as if he alone had the right to be in her company. Trying to craft a reason to remove every admirer from her presence, he suddenly saw the group disperse. It was as if by the mere wave of her hand, every man happily decided to give her space. He seized the opportunity and walked to her side.
“I’m impressed . . . Mildred.” He had not intended to use her hated name, but tacked it on at the last moment. Just seeing her, so beautiful and composed, bothered him—enormously. It would be impossible to pretend any longer that she was still little Mildred Aldon. The feeling left him desperately and futilely seeking any means of gaining the upper hand.
Millie bristled. “Why, if it isn’t Charlie Wentworth. You have been quite the busy man this evening,” she said, looking at the crowd, never visually acknowledging his presence.
He smiled at her rejoinder. “I thought you were going to start calling me Chase. Though
my lord
sounds quite nice, coming from your lips.”
“If I were greeted by the gentlemanly Lord Chaselton, I might be inclined. But, alas, I seem to be in the presence of someone who is acting similar to a mocking young man whom I once knew by the name of Charlie.”
One eyebrow rose in admiration. “You have managed to preserve your quick wit, sprite. It can still easily cut a man in half.”
Millie gave in and looked at him, exaggerating his height by raking her eyes up and down his tall frame. “Unfortunately, my wit has never had the ability to reduce your sense of self.”
Chase could not keep himself from grinning. “Glad I was able to hide it from you.”
“Bah. You never hid anything from me. You were always annoyed with me, and you certainly let me know.”
Chase shrugged noncommittally. “You would be, too, if you constantly had to interrupt more important activities to chase down a mischievous little girl bent on hurting or killing herself.” He stepped in a little closer and whispered, “Maybe you secretly liked it when I saved you.”
Millie’s stomach fluttered. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and got her nerves back under control. “Such abysmal attempts will not work.”
“What won’t?” he choked, realizing he was too close. It was hard enough to match wits with Millie, but being so near, her scent filled his head, claiming his senses. Suddenly he was in his dreams again, agonizing to know the taste and feel of her lying naked beneath him.
Millie eyed him warily and turned back to watch the crowd. “This little stratagem you are trying to apply. It will not work anymore. You used to intimidate me or provoke me by twisting my words around. I’m older now and recognize those types of ploys used by gentlemen.”
Chase was instantly surprised and jealous at the same time. Unaccustomed to the sensation, he did not like the feeling. Who were these men trying different methods to manipulate Millie? He never believed himself to be a possessive man, and tried once again to convince himself that the stirring within him was only a brotherly need to protect her.
Millie interrupted his racing thoughts. “Be honest with me, Charlie. Enough of the superficial banter. You mysteriously disappear as soon as we arrive, to meet with several odd gentlemen, and now you come over here seemingly to pick a fight. What is really on your mind?” Millie wondered if Chase would admit his real purpose for being in London, for it was definitely not to escort her and her friends.
Chase watched her with unfathomable eyes. “Again, I am impressed, sprite.”
Millie gave him a placating smile and returned her gaze to the dancing couples. “Sprite, now, is it? Whatever happened to twig?”
“That nickname definitely no longer suits you. I don’t believe you realize how lovely you look this evening. Something of a mixture of youth, innocence, and regal beauty. It is as if an angel came down from heaven and transformed you into one of their own.” Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “But your angel forgot to replace your impish grin. Bedevilment still rides there.”
Millie brushed the comment aside. “Such flattery, Charlie. I know not whether to swoon at your words or retaliate.” As soon as she voiced the two choices, Millie deftly and quickly—so that none saw—elbowed Chase in the ribs with painful precision.
Grimacing in genuine distress, he replied, “I noticed you chose the latter.”
Facing him now, she looked up at him and very innocently commented, “Oh, my deepest apologies. Did I hurt you?”
“You tried.”
His denial caused Millie’s eyes to snap with frustration. “It was a natural response to insincere adulation. I assure you that if you spoke similarly to any woman of gumption, she would have reacted in a like manner.”
Chase’s eyes locked with hers. “Trust me when I say this, Millie. You are unlike any woman I have ever met or will likely meet in the future. You are one of a kind. An original. And you
are
stunningly beautiful tonight.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He was telling her the truth. Chase thought her pretty. She had never wanted to be pretty before, but now that she heard the words, she suddenly wanted very much for him to consider her beautiful.
Studying the intricate folds in his cravat, she cleared her throat and tried to return the compliment. “Well, uh, thank you, Charlie. You look very fine, too.”
In truth, he looked amazing. So amazing she continually returned her vision to the crowd to prevent her from stammering. He was dressed in a black, perfectly tailored jacket that, with his white waistcoat and cravat, emphasized his muscular build. His black trousers were tight fitting and revealed the sleek, powerful contours of his legs. And each time her gaze connected with his, he seemed able to see right to her very soul, leaving her completely naked and vulnerable.
Chase sent her a speculative, sidelong glance and wondered what she was thinking at that very moment. “So are you going to tell me how you did it?”
Still thinking about how solid and large his body was, how completely masculine he appeared, she was caught off guard by his question. “Did what?”
Chase moved his arm in front of them, indicating the lack of company. “How you so easily cleared the drooling crowd of men surrounding you earlier.”
Her eyebrows rose. So Chase had been watching her. “Hmm, when I was younger I would have offered a lot to know how to do something the great omnipresent Charlie Wentworth did not.”
Chase gave her an irritated look. “Mildred, what are you talking about? What is all this babble about omnipresence?”
Millie shrugged. “Oh, nothing, really. When I was young, I used to think that you had the ability to be anywhere and everywhere.”
“That’s nonsense,” Chase responded.
“I agree, but I could never figure out how you always seemed to know when I was doing something that you thought I oughtn’t.”
“Simple. I followed you.” Watching her eyes narrow, he probed again. “So? What is your secret?”
Millie sharply shook her head, releasing a couple of locks of hair so that they framed her face in a most appealing way. “No, I do not believe I will reveal my methods of dispersal. It is an enjoyable sensation, knowing how to do something you do not. It is an infuriatingly uncommon event, and I would like time to bask in the feeling.”
Chase dropped his voice to a quiet, private whisper. “You could teach me a number of things, Millie.”
The change in his voice made her insides race with sensual excitement. She had to regain control of the conversation and her emotions. If she continued to allow him to flatter and tease her, she would be completely flustered. And to be flustered around this new, very male Charlie was dangerous and unwise. She had to turn the tables on him—now, and fast.
“I spoke with your friend Sir Edward this evening. He’s one of the few gentlemen whose conversation I thoroughly enjoyed.”
Alarm shot through Chase. He caught her wrist and deftly maneuvered her to a more secluded area in the room. “What do you mean,
you conversed with him
? I thought he had just met you when you sent all your admirers scurrying.”
She rubbed her wrist, resentment darkening her eyes. “Hmm, no. We met and danced earlier. He was telling me how he used to be a spy. Is it true?”
His insides clenched, wondering just what game Edward was playing. “I think it would be wise if you avoided Edward in the future.”
“Why? You were talking with him. Besides, I like him.”
“You should. He’s a likable man and a good one. But he is also much older than he looks and is used to playing in a field that uh . . . well, requires no commitment in order for a gentleman to be entertained.”
Millie flashed him a blindingly bright smile. “Yes, I surmised as much. Regardless, I think Sir Edward and I could be friends. Besides, he now owes me a favor.”
Millie was doing it again. She had total control of the conversation, making him batty with the double talk. She could give Sir Edward lessons. “Friends? A favor?”
BOOK: A Woman Made for Pleasure
13.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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