“If only we could become lovers, Laura.” His mouth was close enough to her ear to stir a ringlet, his hand on her arm, holding her back.
She drew in a sharp breath at the thought of him holding her, kissing her. He was outrageous. Were women of her age there for the taking? “And should thetonlearn of it, what would happen to me when it ends?” She was too shocked to make her attempt at flippancy sound convincing. And she was angry and unsettled by the leap of excitement his words provoked.
“A gentleman takes care of such matters.”
“Yes. A bracelet or some pretty bauble when you replace me with another?”
He lifted his dark eyebrows. “Where have you heard of these things?” It was a question, not a condemnation.
She had seen the jeweler’s bills her brother, Robert, received in the post. “I find this conversation distasteful.”
“Then I apologize,” he said without a trace of humility.
“I wish to return to the ballroom.”
“Of course. Should you change your mind, you have only to let me know. We are certain to meet again.”
She smiled sweetly. “It would be unwise to be so sure of it.”
He laughed and offered her his arm. “Ah, Laura, then I should regret it.”
Laura placed her gloved hand on his sleeve, disturbed by the strength of the man beneath the silk. What would he regret? Did he mean this extraordinary invitation? Or was he merely enjoying himself at her expense? She didn’t find it amusing. A wealthy earl of thirty or so would hardly choose a dowerless bride of twenty-six. But why did he shun marriage entirely? And so forcefully? There must have been a story behind it. There was more to this man. Why did they call him “the Phantom Earl”? Did he have a dark past? Although aware he was a dangerous rakehell, she couldn’t help being a little intrigued. Might a lover have broken his heart? Robert would laugh should she tell him, but apparently, she was still susceptible to a romantic tale.
Lord Debnam led Laura to her seat, where her friend, Emma Burton, in her white muslin, stood hovering, watching them, her green eyes wide, waving her fan before her flushed face.
“It has been a pleasure, Miss Peyton.” With a graceful bow, Lord Debnam left her.
“Was it wise to dance twice with the earl?” Emma took the seat next to Laura and glanced around at the groups of ladies near them. She fluffed up the feathers of her headdress on her dark hair, looking like a startled owl.
Laura wondered at the force of Emma’s objection. “I don’t see why not.”
“They call him ‘the Phantom Earl,’” Emma said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“He told me.”
Emma looked flummoxed. “He did?”
“Do you know why?”
“Not really. I’ve heard some talk; you always do when you spend time in the ladies’ withdrawing room. It must be because he is seldom seen in London. And yet he has danced with you before, hasn’t he? But the waltz! Many women here will be pea green with envy.”
“What nonsense. He is just a man like any other.” Laura couldn’t really bring herself to believe that, however.
“It’s said he had an affair with the Duchess of Holcombe while the ailing duke was still living. She gave birth to a son not long afterward. And some say he had an affair with a member of royalty, although I haven’t discovered anything more. The royals close ranks on their own.”
“I’m sure that is merely scandalous gossip, Emma.” Surely, it couldn’t have been true? Although thinking of Lord Debnam, some of it did seem possible.
Emma patted Laura’s arm to gain her attention. “You should be careful of him, Laura. You could damage your standing in society.”
He had said they should become lovers. Her heart pounded at the very thought of them together, that way. She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Nothing much can happen during a dance.”
Lord Debnam had certainly enlivened her evening and stirred her in ways she didn’t intend to think about until within the seclusion of her bedchamber. She waved her fan before her hot face and sought to change the subject. “Tell me, did you enjoy dancing with Mr. Lang?”
Emma raised her eyebrows. “I did. He is so big and brash, and his Scottish accent was fascinating. I wanted to ask him if he wore anything under that kilt.”
“Emma!” Laura laughed.
“Maybe I’ll get the chance to find out someday,” Emma said, looking about for the gentleman. Emma was another who lacked a proper chaperone, her grandmother seldom at her side. But at twenty, a girl needed supervision.