Lady Watson said that the present duke
is involved in some illegal activities just like his grandfather.
No one dares to ask him outright, or accuse him of anything, but
the rumors abound anyway.”
To Aurora, none of it mattered. The man was a
handsome gentleman, to be sure, and appeared every bit as dangerous
as rumor claimed. Why, he wore nothing but black. Even his linen
was black. To match his soul?
Perhaps that would be to her advantage. Many a man
would think twice before tangling with a peer of such appearance
and reputation.
She had to wonder, however, if such a man could be
made to fall in love.
“ Why is he accepted here?” Aurora
asked curiously.
“ Oh, his mother was bosom bows
with Lady Sefton and he is very powerful for all he is only seven
and twenty, nearly as powerful as his grandfather was. Lady Watson
said none of it matters since the duke will die soon,” Miss Ellison
told her young friend sotto voce . She was rewarded with a
gasp at this little tidbit. “Apparently, his grandfather was killed
by highwaymen when he was five and thirty. The second duke was four
when he ascended to the title. He died in a boating accident when
he was two and thirty, a year after his wife was found dead in
their home near Folkestone. The present duke has held the title
since he was seven.”
“ But his father and grandfather
died in accidents. Why would that suggest he will die young, as
well?” Aurora asked, frowning.
Miss Ellison shrugged. “It is the way of gossip, I
suppose. One will find intrigues where none exist.”
“ Oh,” was Aurora’s enlightened
reply.
Miss Ellison returned to indicating the notables
present. “Conversing with Mrs. Drummond-Burrell and Princess
Esterhazy is Lord Gideon, the Earl of Holt. I have heard nothing
negative about that very handsome young man,” Ellie informed her.
“He is vastly popular with ladies and gentlemen, never duels,
rarely gambles, and patronizes only Weston, as you can plainly
see.”
The earl was standing with two of the patronesses of
Almack’s, directly behind Lord Castlereagh’s group. He was a very
handsome man with curly blond hair and sleepy brown eyes. He wore
an immaculate burgundy jacket that stretched perfectly over his
shoulders, a pale blue waistcoat embroidered with colorful birds of
paradise, and skintight inexpressibles of dove gray. He appeared
quite the peacock among crows. Aurora thought him too lazy to suit
her, but Town didn’t seem to boast quite the number of eligible
gentlemen she had hoped.
A young man of quite astonishing size and good looks
approached the men surrounding the foreign minister. He was greeted
heartily and handed a glass of champagne by one of Lady Jersey’s
many minions—the lady had decided to break with tradition and serve
refreshments.
Aurora stared at the boyishly handsome young man. He
was dressed rather plain, she thought, in a jacket of dark green
Bath superfine, biscuit colored pantaloons, and plain white
waistcoat. He’d tied his starched white cravat in the Oriental and
his curly dark brown hair was in fashionable disarray. But, oh my,
did he look magnificent. She decided he would be absolutely
delicious in whatever he chose to wear. So many gentlemen used
padding to enhance their appearances but she suspected he was not
one of them. Quite ridiculous since one could usually tell.
She wondered what he looked like without all his
finery.
Her eyes widened in astonishment. Never, in over
three years, had she wondered such a thing.
She found herself contemplating what color his eyes
were when the gentleman undergoing her perusal happened to glance
around the room and catch her eye. Aurora’s eyes were still wide
from her inappropriate thought and she blushed furiously when he
gave her a questioning look, smiled and raised his glass to her.
Turning away, she forced her breathing to calm. The man could use
that smile as a weapon, she thought as she began to fan herself
vigorously.
“ Rory, dear,