Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) (5 page)

“
But I can’t—”

“
She seems to suit you
too,” Leith tossed in, “based on the way you look at her when you
think no one’s watching.” Leith eyed him knowingly. “You watch her
the way I...” His voice trailed off, but his eyes flickered briefly
over to Lady Tabitha’s cousin, Miss Faulkner.

Noah felt like he was drowning in the
sea of their reasons. “But I don’t look at her—”

Raynesford cut him off. “You
do.”

“
And
she
is the solution to your
problem,” Shelton said, pointing definitively across the ballroom.
He had a triumphant smile plastered across his face. “She’s not a
debutante
—not by a mile. She’ll bring a
heftier settlement into the marriage than any other lady you could
find. She has more than three thoughts in her head, though I can’t
for the life of me imagine why you care about that.” Shelton’s
expression said that Noah was addled beyond redemption. “And
clearly you already find her at least passably attractive. What are
you waiting for? Go ask her to dance.”

Noah looked to Raynesford, hoping for
commiseration, but a grim expression of resigned determination was
set in his brother-in-law’s eyes and the clench of his jaw.
Claremont and Leith were both grinning, and Claremont even nodded
in Lady Tabitha’s direction. By gad, they were all in this
together, the four of them. For all he knew, they might have even
planned to ambush him like this.

But how could they have known he was
financially strapped? They couldn’t have. Noah brushed the thought
away. Whether it was planned ahead of time or not, they were
conspiring against him now.

Noah shook his head then turned to
join the others in staring at Lady Tabitha. She gave a tiny jump
before staring back at him across the ballroom floor. A sleek, soft
green gown hugged her curves in ways that sent blood straight to
his loins. It wasn’t overly revealing, not like most ladies tended
to wear these days—indeed, it was quite the opposite of the current
fashions. The bodice covered her rounded bosom, leaving his
imagination to conjure the luscious mounds of flesh that strained
against the fabric. When she moved, the silk tugged against
curvaceous hips that flared out from her waist before falling
gracefully back into place.

What he wouldn’t give to place his
hands on those hips and draw her near.

“
That
look,” Leith said, jerking Noah back to the conversation.
“That’s the look I’ve been talking about. Like you want to find a
private little alcove somewhere and—”

“
That’s my sister you’re
talking about, Leith,” Raynesford said. “Watch it.”

Noah forced his eyes up to Lady
Tabitha’s face and was startled to discover her silvery grey eyes
staring back at him with a question burning at their core. He had
to admit to himself, he could happily stare into her eyes for
hours. However, it didn’t seem altogether prudent to admit as much
to Raynesford at the moment.

“
And that’s my sister
you’re devouring with your eyes, Devonport.”

“
Yes,” Noah replied. His
voice cracked. His mouth felt dry. Try as he might, he couldn’t
seem to form any more of a response.

Raynesford just looked at him
appraisingly.

“
Perhaps he ought to go
ask her to dance,” Shelton said. “Since we are all in agreement
that he enjoys looking at her. He could look at her more closely
that way.”

“
Yes,” Raynesford said. “I
think Devonport ought to do just that. And quickly.” He clapped a
hand on Noah’s shoulder and gave a little push. Noah walked blindly
across the ballroom toward Lady Tabitha—the only person that
existed in his line of sight anymore.

“
But don’t let her know
you need money,” Shelton said conspiratorially as Noah bemusedly
walked away. “She loathes fortune hunters. There’s nothing she
abhors more. Except, perhaps, for me.”

Well, there was a cheerful
thought.

Chapter Three

Tabitha turned to scour the ballroom.
“Some flighty young thing,” she said to Jo. “Pretty. She’ll have to
be pretty. Probably a blonde, but he might go for a brunette. Clear
complexion. And none too bright. Toby wouldn’t have any idea what
to do with a lady who can think for herself.”

“
Aren’t you being a
little
bit harsh on
him?” Jo said on a laugh. “He is your brother, after
all.”

“
Precisely. He’s my
brother. My
twin
brother, in case you’ve forgotten. I rather think I know him
better than just about anyone else in all of England.”

Tabitha raised herself up on her
tiptoes to get a better look at the sea of silly, young things in
their pastel confections. “Oh, damn and blast. I can’t see well
enough from here. I think I might have to venture out a bit.” She
took a tentative step around the potted plant directly before her
and moved closer to the fringes of the dance floor. “Stand in front
of me and block me from Oglethorpe’s view, will you?”

“
Absolutely not. If you
want to be meddlesome, you’re going to have to deal with the
consequences.” Jo stood beside Tabitha, digging her heels in when
Tabitha tried physically to move her. “I do heartily approve of the
meddling, but you know how I feel about the hiding.”

“
You’re being utterly
foul. You do realize that, don’t you?” Tabitha couldn’t prevent the
scowl from overtaking her features.

Jo clucked her tongue. “Of course I
do. But aren’t we supposed to be looking for an attractive imbecile
with whom to thwart your brother?”

“
It won’t work.” The
smooth, rich voice of Lord Devonport reverberated at Tabitha’s
other side, and she jumped. “He fully intends not to be foiled by
you, Lady Tabitha.”

She pinched her eyes closed. Blast,
how had she not noticed Lord Devonport coming her way? She’d as
soon die of mortification as allow him to hear her plans for Toby.
But it was too late for that.

Still, maybe the gentleman would prove
himself useful.

“
And what, pray tell, is
he planning, Lord Devonport?” Steeling herself, Tabitha turned to
face him. The laughter in his eyes never ceased to captivate her.
Someone ought to find a way to bottle that joy so everyone could
experience it. “Surely you know, since you’ve been over there with
him this last half hour. What does he intend to do to me this
time?”

“
Alas, I cannot tell. I’ve
been sworn to secrecy.”

“
Would it not be more
gallant to warn a lady of a plot against her, my lord? Surely you
must recognize the difficulty of my position.”

The smile moved down to his lips. They
looked soft, like velvet. Tabitha had a sudden, irresistible urge
to kiss them, just to find out for sure. But that was a ridiculous
notion.

“
Ah, but you do not seem
to recognize the inherent problems of mine.”

The way Lord Devonport stared at her
was more than just a little unnerving. Tabitha realized she was
toying with her necklace and forced herself to stop, allowing her
arms to fall straight at her side.

“
And neither of you
recognize the adversity of mine,” Jo said. Her voice seemed much
louder than either of theirs had been, though surely no one else
could hear her. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go and visit with Lady
Crestridge. That shade of evening primrose makes her complexion
look downright ghastly.”

Jo strolled away, and as
usual, a series of eyes followed her path across the ballroom,
Tabitha’s included. When she turned back to Lord Devonport,
however, his eyes had not left Tabitha’s person. Oh,
why
had Jo decided to
abandon her? She’d been Tabitha’s one source of protection
against...against what, precisely? Surely she didn’t need
protection from Lord Devonport, a perfectly agreeable gentleman—one
who was essentially family.

So why did she feel like she needed
fortification? Why, all of a sudden, did his gaze make her skin
tingle? The prickles of goose flesh that had popped up along her
arms were perplexing. Tabitha wasn’t cold—rather she was
exceedingly warm—and she was experiencing the joint, warring
desires to leave Lord Devonport’s presence without looking back and
to draw closer to him.

Tabitha had been attracted
to men before. More than attracted, actually. She’d thought herself
in love with one of her father’s footmen once upon a time. But
James Marshall had never made her feel quite like this—nervous and
flighty, and somehow even a little bit attractive. On second
thought, maybe Jo had been right. Maybe she
was
feeling ill. No gentleman in
possession of his faculties would ever find her attractive. She
brushed the notion away and faced Lord Devonport again.

“
The inherent problems of
your position?” she asked, wishing her words had not come out
sounding strangled. Good Lord, it sounded like she was attempting
to swallow an entire flock of geese. “And what might those
be?”

“
Surely you can work that
out on your own, my lady.”

He leaned closer to her and the heat
of his body wafted a trail of his cologne over her. It was musky
and spicy and manly; it tingled against her nose and tantalized her
to draw closer to him.

“
If I am to maintain my
reputation as a gentleman in your eyes,” he said, his voice hardly
more than a whisper, “I must divulge secrets that are not mine to
tell. However, if I am to maintain the same in the eyes of your
family, I may do nothing of the sort.”

His eyes bored into hers. Tabitha felt
as though he could see straight into her mind, directly into her
heart. Her pulse beat a frantic pace against her neck. She wished
he would touch her right there, just below the lobe of her ear, to
calm the pulsing, heated flow.

“
Indeed,” she said. “That
is quite a predicament.”

“
Perhaps you would do me
the honor of dancing with me. It might gain us a bit of time so we
can decide what must be done about the situation.”

Sure enough, the ballroom floor before
them was once again beginning to fill with couples taking their
positions for the next set. She ought to refuse. Dancing always
made her feel like everyone was watching her.

Tabitha didn’t want anyone to watch
her. She wanted to disappear into the background where no one would
stare at her plumpness and think horrid things of her. Granting a
dance to Lord Devonport would surely catch the attention of Lord
Oglethorpe, thereby forcing her to redouble her efforts to
disappear after the set was over.

But then he placed her hand in the
crook of his arm, and the intoxicating heat of him traveled the
entire length of her side. She was enveloped in his scent as he led
her to the middle of the ballroom and took her into his arms. One
hand gently gripped hers and the other settled at her
back.

Oh, blast.
It was to be a waltz. Why could it not be a reel
or a quadrille, something where she could regain her senses and
rediscover her ability to converse? Something where he wouldn’t be
touching her. Something where he wouldn’t feel all the valleys and
crevices of her body beneath her gown. This, more than anything
else, was precisely why she tended to avoid dancing, in
general.

When the music began, he nudged her
into motion and Tabitha looked up at him. Lord Devonport still had
not stopped smiling down at her with those bedeviling blue eyes. It
ought to be illegal for a man to have such beautiful eyes,
particularly when God had seen fit to grant her such lackluster and
uninspiring eyes.

“
What are you thinking?”
he asked congenially. “I doubt I’ve ever seen you so
perplexed.”

Well, maybe he
couldn’t
quite
read every thought in her head. There was one small favor.
“Why have you asked me to dance?”

Lord Devonport laughed. It was a rich
sound. Full. One she had heard countless times before. One which
she could never grow tired of hearing. “Not fair, answering a
question with a question.”

“
At least I was honest,”
Tabitha retorted, even while acknowledging to herself that it
wasn’t full honesty. “I was wondering why you’d asked me to dance.
So why have you?” And why was he tightening his hold at her back,
drawing her closer to him, instead of attempting to put more
distance between them? Her heart took up an irregular rhythm in her
chest, and her breathing soon matched it.

He twirled her around in
his arms, gracefully guiding her through the other couples. In his
arms, waltzing felt like the most natural thing she could be doing.
He made her feel light on her feet and elegant. Yet the eyes of
the
ton
trailed
over them, prickling at Tabitha’s skin. Staring at them. Wondering
why he would be paying her any attention.

“
I asked you to dance
because I wanted to dance with you,” Lord Devonport
said.

So he wouldn’t play fair. “Very well.
So if I promise not to let on that you’ve told me, will you tell me
what devilry Toby is up to?”

Lord Devonport regarded her for just a
moment longer than necessary. “No.” The monosyllable was almost
inaudible, but firm.