The Valentine's Day Ball Read Online Free

The Valentine's Day Ball
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lowered her shawl and regarded him fiercely.
    “Where are you from, boy?”
    “Yorkshire.”
    “You don’t sound it,”’ she commented, a suspicious frown creasing her wrinkled forehead.
    “I have spent the past ten years abroad.”
    “Aye, that explains it.” Nana cocked her head in Jane’s direction. “What do you want with my Jane?”
    The viscount’s eyes twinkled as Jane gasped, “Nana!”
    With a serious demeanour, he responded, “I had hoped to persuade Miss Lindsay to return to the ball. I would like to learn more about this fascinating old house.”
    “Hmph!” said Jane.
    “Then that’s all right. You two run along. I’ve got to get my rest, I do. Goodnight, my lord. Goodnight, missy.”
    Jane stood up, looking irresolutely from the viscount’s proffered arm to the old woman who had closed her eyes and resumed rocking. “Goodnight, Nana,” she said, grimacing as she placed her gloved hand on Lord Devlin’s sleeve.
    He reached past her, his chest brushing against her breast as he retrieved the lace basket and her reticule from the bed. The white card fell from the reticule and he caught it. He picked it up, quickly scanning its contents.
    “Goldsmith, I believe.”
    Jane took the card and pushed it more securely into the reticule as he continued, “It seems you have at least one valentine that you deemed worthy of separating from the others. What a fortunate fellow.”
    “Poppycock!” snapped Jane.
    They had reached the top of the stairs, and Jane paused, waiting for the viscount to go first. He, however, seemed disinclined to release her arm, for he tucked it closer, trapping her hand against his side as they descended the narrow stairs.
    “The candles have gone out,” said Jane as she realized they were in total darkness.
    “Are you afraid of the dark, Miss Lindsay, or perhaps only of me?”
    “I am afraid of neither, sir, but I must admit I find the minor irritations of life vexatious.”
    What a rich laugh he had, and she realized she was smiling. Recovering immediately, she reflected how fortunate it was that they were immersed in darkness.
    “I believe we are at the bottom, Miss Lindsay.” She stopped in her tracks, and he turned to face her. “What? Unwilling to call our little tête-à-tête at an end?”
    Not betrayed into revealing her temper, Jane stared at what she believed to be his face. “You are insufferably arrogant, aren’t you, Lord Devlin?”
    Again, that laugh. “Perhaps, Miss Lindsay, I am merely voicing my own hopes.”
    “And untruthful, as well.”
    “Then perhaps I should prove my words.” With this, he embraced her, pinning her arms to her sides as his lips sought hers.
    “I shall scream!”
    “And how will you explain our presence here together? Come, kiss me.”
    His lips tasted vaguely of liquor, and Jane tried to concentrate on this instead of on the light-headed feeling that was creeping over her. But the fight was impossible, as his kiss became more demanding, his tongue probing, and she swayed against him. He groaned and released her arms, but instead of using them to pummel his chest as any gently reared lady should have, Jane slipped her arms around his neck and wound her fingers into his dark, curly hair.
    Some part of her remained aware of her wanton behaviour, but she had no wish to stop. It was her turn to groan as she tried to press closer, an impossible feat under the circumstances.
    Then he set her away from him. Jane managed to still a whimper of protest and immediately began straightening her gown.
    His breath came in short, rasping waves. “I’ll escort you back to the ballroom, Miss Lindsay.”
    “That will not be necessary, Lord Devlin. You go on without me.”
    He opened the door behind him and backed out, leaving her weak and bemused.
    Recovering her wits, Jane hurried to her chamber, shocking her dresser with the state of her hair. Tucker scolded her charge mildly with the privilege of an old retainer. As Jane remained
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