When Only a Rake Will Do (3 page)

“Oh?”  Daphne regarded her curiously. 

Amelia’s expression brightened at once, her frown magically disappearing as her lips curved upward into a jubilant smile.  “He’s just arrived,” she said excitedly.  “I saw him as I was dancing with Wymore.”

“I saw him too,” Lizzie chimed in gleefully, “standing next to Viscount Dearing.”

Understanding dawned at once.  “Ah.”  Daphne didn’t need to ask to whom her friends were referring, for she knew with absolute certainty that only Lord Brendon Leighton could have affected such exuberant reactions.  And although she had never met the gentleman in person, she was well-acquainted with his reputation.  He was the second son of a duke, brother to the current Duke of Sethe and the prosperous owner of a fleet of merchant vessels, all of which he had personally captained at one time or another.  He was also purported to be one of the handsomest men in all of England and one of the country’s most-eligible bachelors, despite his lack of a title and his long-held status as the
ton’s
most celebrated rake and libertine.  Having listened to Amelia and Lizzie go on about the man since they’d made his acquaintance two years earlier, in addition to reading about his numerous romantic exploits in the various scandal sheets and gossip rags that she snuck into the house and hid under her mattress, she had to admit that her curiosity was piqued.

“Just wait until you meet him, Daphne,” Amelia declared animatedly.  “Then you’ll be smitten, just like the rest of us.”

“Truly you will,” Lizzie seconded, her eyes bright with anticipation.

“Well, if he is all that you have said he is, then I suppose I shall,” Daphne agreed with an amused grin.

Amelia nodded, sending her blonde curls bobbing.  “Oh believe me, he is.”

“There you are, my lady,” Marie interjected, snipping the end of the thread and rising to her feet.

Amelia glanced down and examined the repaired hem.  “Marie, you’re a wonder,” she proclaimed with a grateful smile as she stood up, shaking out her full, pale-pink taffeta skirt. 

“See, you needn’t have panicked for ‘tis good as new,” Lizzie declared with a bright smile.   “Now come, let’s hurry back,” she continued, prodding Daphne and Amelia toward the door.

Minutes later, as the girls reentered the ballroom, Lizzie and Amelia immediately began scanning the crowd for Lord Leighton.

“There he is,” Amelia exclaimed a short while later, clutching Daphne’s forearm excitedly. 

Daphne swiveled her head, following the line of Amelia’s gaze, searching the throng of guests for the gentleman she’d heard so much about.

“Look, he’s coming this way,” Lizzie exclaimed in an excited whisper.

It was then that Daphne saw him, heading directly toward their little threesome from across the room. 
Oh my
, she thought as she focused her gaze upon him, he did appear quite good-looking, even from a distance.  And tall, she noted as he drew ever closer, considerably taller than her own five-foot seven-inch height.

Nodding politely to friends and acquaintances as he made his way through the multitude of guests, Brendon stopped a few feet before the trio of elegantly-clad young women standing beneath the grand archway leading into the room. Earlier in the evening, Tiffany, Lady Chesterfield had solicited his promise to partner each of her young sisters-in-law out for their first Season on the dance floor, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. “Good evening, ladies,” he greeted amiably.

“Good evening, my lord,” Amelia and Lizzie replied in perfect unison, their smiles radiant.

“Good evening, my lord,” Lady Daphne murmured, exhibiting far more reserve than her two companions, for in truth she was slightly awestruck by the handsome lord.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Brendon said as his gaze settled upon Daphne Hewitt.

“Lord Brendon, this is our dear friend, Lady Daphne Hewitt,” Lizzie supplied helpfully.  “Daphne, may I present Lord Brendon Leighton.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord,” Daphne uttered softly, struggling to regain her wits.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Daphne, I assure you,” Brendon responded with a polite nod and an engaging smile.  Damn, he thought, the girl was even prettier up close, he thought, feeling an immediate attraction to the alluring beauty.

“We’re so glad that you were able to attend this evening, my lord,” Amelia said, drawing his attention.

“Yes,” Lizzie nodded in agreement.  “Having just returned to London, we feared that you might have had a more pressing engagement.”

“More pressing than the opportunity to partner you and your sister on the dance floor,” Brendon replied chivalrously. “Certainly not.”  Not to mention that his own sister-in-law Ashleigh, as well as Lady Tiffany, would have had his head if he’d failed to make an appearance, for the two were longtime friends, as were their husbands.  As such, the Leighton and Warrene families had long been each other’s greatest supporters.

Watching Amelia and Lizzie, Daphne didn’t think that she had ever seen the pair quite so enthusiastic as they all but thrust their dance cards into Brendon Leighton’s outstretched hand.  In truth, she could hardly blame them, for the sinfully attractive man standing before them was almost too good-looking to be believed.  With dark wavy hair, piercing blue eyes and a face that would have undoubtedly sparked the jealousy of Adonis himself, he was the epitome of masculine perfection.

Looking on as Lord Leighton scanned the remaining spaces on Lizzie and Amelia’s dance cards, Daphne watched, somewhat spellbound, as he selected a dance from each card before handing them back.  Then, catching her unaware, he suddenly turned his attention back to her. 

“Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance as well, Lady Daphne?” he asked with an entrancing smile.

“Oh, yes of course,” Daphne said, giving herself a mental shake as she handed over her dance card.  “I would be delighted to, my lord.”  Watching as he penned his name upon the ivory-colored parchment, it felt as if her heart began to beat just a little bit faster.  Then, when he looked up, holding her gaze as he handed back the small rectangular card, she experienced something altogether unfamiliar. It was the oddest feeling, one she wasn’t exactly certain how to define; a peculiar sensation that seemed to start within the very tips of her fingers and then rapidly progress throughout her entire body. It was somewhat disconcerting, though not unpleasant.  No, she decided in the very next instant, the feeling was most definitely
not
unpleasant.

It wasn’t until Lord Leighton had excused himself and walked away a short time later that Daphne glanced down at her dance card to see that he’d chosen to partner her in the third and final waltz of the evening. 

“Isn’t he the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” Lizzie sighed, turning her wide-eyed gaze to Daphne.

“Yes, he
is
quite attractive,” Daphne agreed; a gross understatement to say the least.

“You know he rarely attends these types of affairs,” Lizzie effused, “and almost never dances with young, unmarried ladies such as us.”

“Surely we three shall be the envy of every other female in attendance this evening,” Amelia exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.

As she listened with half an ear to the sisters’ animated chatter, Daphne couldn’t help thinking that Amelia’s comment was likely an accurate one. Charming, aristocratic, adventurous, wealthy and far too handsome to be believed, Brendon Leighton was like a storybook prince come to life.  No wonder the ladies of the
ton
were so enamored with him, so much so that it was rumored even the sternest, most formidable matrons had fallen under the spell of the charismatic young lord.  In addition, the majority of Society’s marriage-minded mamas were said to willingly overlook his reputation as well, repeatedly attempting to thrust their young, unmarried daughters into his path, despite his rakish reputation. 

Now, having finally met the man she’d heard so much about, she could definitely understand his overwhelming appeal. Much to the chagrin of many of the
ton’s
female members, however, Amelia and Lizzie included, Lord Leighton had yet to display a romantic interest in any of Society’s eligible young misses or show the slightest inclination toward relinquishing his bachelor status and taking a wife.

“Oh, here comes Lord Merriweather,” Amelia suddenly exclaimed, effectively breaking into Daphne’s thoughts.

Daphne immediately turned her attention to the approaching gentleman for she was aware that despite Amelia’s fascination with Brendon Leighton, she had taken a marked interest in Lord Merriweather as well.  Though not as handsome as Lord Leighton, Lord Maxwell Merriweather, heir to the Earl of Haywood,
was
an attractive fellow in his own right.  With wavy blonde hair, big blue eyes and a large, brawny physique, he reminded Daphne of the Viking warriors she’d learned about during her childhood history lessons. Unlike those noble savages, however, Lord Merriweather was an affable, gregarious young man, displaying none of the ferocity and barbarism of the Norse seafarers of old. 

“Ladies,” he greeted with a polite bow as he came to stand before their little group.  “I believe the upcoming set is ours, Lady Amelia,” he continued, his expression softening as he focused his gaze upon her.

“Yes, indeed it is, Lord Merriweather,” she replied with a warm smile.  Then, placing her hand upon the gentleman’s arm, she allowed him to lead her away.

“Amelia is becoming quite smitten with Lord Merriweather, I think,” Lizzie said in a low voice as she moved a few steps closer to Daphne.

Despite their ongoing infatuation with Brendon Leighton, Daphne wasn’t surprised by Lizzie’s comment, for the sisters were quite pragmatic after all and neither held out any real hope of luring
that
particular gentleman to the altar.    

“I believe you’re right,” Daphne murmured, smiling as she watched the pair make their way to the dance floor.  “And considering the attention he’s paid her these past weeks, it would seem that the feeling is mutual.”

Lizzie grinned.  “I think so too.”

“And what of you and Lord Palmerston?” Daphne asked, arching her brow as she turned back to Lizzie.

“Whatever do you mean?” Lizzie responded with a look of wide-eyed innocence, though a sudden, telltale blush pinked her cheeks. 

Unconvinced by Lizzie’s feigned ignorance, Daphne merely grinned.  “If I’m not mistaken, as Lord Merriweather seems to be paying quite a lot of attention to Amelia,
Lord Palmerston
seems to be paying quite a lot of attention to
you
.”

For a moment Lizzie hesitated, but then she allowed a small, secretive smile to play upon her lips.   “It does seem so, doesn’t it?” she murmured with a pleased expression.

Daphne squeezed Lizzie’s arm affectionately.  Despite her own misfortune, she was overjoyed to think that her two best friends might well be on their way to finding their own happily ever afters.

Nearly two hours later, having smiled, flirted and danced with one gentleman after another, Daphne had grown increasingly weary of the whole affair.  Sadly, what should have been an enjoyable, fun-filled evening was shaping up much like every other night had since the start of the Season earlier that month.  Though she had attended numerous entertainments throughout the past weeks, none had brought her the enjoyment they should have, for the perverse ruse she was forced to enact at the behest of the Earl of Blackburn had taken whatever pleasures she might have found in the midst of her long-awaited debut and effectively quashed them.

In fact, it wasn’t until Brendon Leighton appeared before her a short time later to claim his dance that she felt a genuine rush of excitement and anticipation.  How could she not, she asked herself, when the man was so extraordinarily good-looking.  For despite her lackluster mood, she still had a perfectly functioning set of eyes after all.

“Lady Daphne, I believe this dance is mine,” Brendon said with a genial smile as he stepped forward and offered her his arm.

“It is indeed, my lord,” she said, smiling in return. Placing her hand upon his forearm she allowed him to escort her to the dance floor.  And as they moved side by side through the crowd, and though it was probably just her imagination, it felt as if her heart began to beat just a little bit faster, just as it had earlier.

Leading Daphne Hewitt onto the highly-polished parquet floor a few moments later, Brendon pulled her gently into his arms as the musicians took up their instruments and began the final waltz of the evening.  “So, Lady Daphne, are you enjoying your first Season?” he asked politely as he guided her into the first turn.

“Very much so, my lord,” Daphne dissembled, wondering if the blatant falsehood would ever get any easier to voice.

Hmm
, Brendon mused, though her smile was bright, her enthusiasm appeared almost feigned.  But no, surely he must be mistaken, for wasn’t she Society’s newest darling? He paused, waiting for her to launch into an animated account of her initial foray into London’s social whirl, as he’d discovered most young ladies fresh from the schoolroom were want to do, especially those who’d managed to secure the
ton’s
favor, but surprisingly she didn’t elaborate.  Graciously, he gave her another opportunity.  “I have only just returned to Town, but I hear that you have taken the
ton
quite by storm.”