Unperturbed, Dare returned his stare. Thomas was fully capable of striking him down without a second thought, but Dare had no interest in ruining his evening over a distant memory. Turning to Abby, he executed the slightest of bows, and with as minimal scorn as he could muster, responded, “My apologies. Please offer your sister my felicitations.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the group.
He strolled to the opposite corner of the room, and had just taken a pinch of snuff, when a hand squeezed his arm. He glared down into the face of a dark-haired beauty.
“Don’t worry, milord, I’m not going to take you to task. Quite the contrary. I couldn’t be in more agreement with you regarding your disgraced ladyfriend. Why in heaven’s name she would settle for a servant when she could have had”—her eyes took a long slow walk over Dare’s form—“you. That, I will never understand.”
“Ah, Miss Berkshire. How are you?”
“Lady Wilshire, if you please. You’ll remember I have been married for three seasons now.”
“As you say. Difficult to remember as you are never seen together in any pursuits.”
“Yes, it works well for us. I now have a fortune, he has respectability, and we are both free to pursue our own interests.” She ran her small gloved hand over the sleeve of his jacket. “Do you have any interests here, Lord Landis?”
The seductive smile and sweep of her thick lashes across her rosy cheeks left no doubt as to her meaning. Her red dress was rather bold for a country gathering, but it set off her creamy skin, and the red ribbon threaded though her dark hair made a striking contrast. While Dare had avoided the lovely Miss Berkshire while she was searching for a husband, she now presented a delightfully unencumbered opportunity.
Perhaps it was time to take advantage of a longing that had simmered for years. He pitched his voice low. “And the respectable Lord Wilshire…?”
“Is most decidedly occupied…as long as the spirits continue to flow.” She gave a pointed glance toward a rotund gentleman at the far end of the room. Said gentleman was flushed and unsteady, draining a glass of Madeira as if on cue.
Dare leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “You do know that respectability is not something I value. In fact, I find it quite dull. Are you certain you can suppress that element of your personality, at least for the evening?”
She gave a throaty chuckle. “That should not be a problem.”
She took a step toward the door and then raised her fan up to her face. Two flicks of the wrist were followed by a sigh. “La, I fear this room is getting warm. I believe I may need to lie down for a few moments before dinner. Will you excuse me?” Her eyes brazenly roved over his figure before she turned and glided out the door.
Dare watched her leave, noting the sway of her hips. He sipped his drink, enjoying the anticipation. When the glass was empty, he placed it on the footman’s tray and slipped out of the room. He headed up the staircase to the guest rooms. A quick glance at the row of doors showed that Lady Wilshire was a woman with experience. The red ribbon that had been weaved through her hair peeked out of a doorway on the far left of the hall. Perfect.
He pressed open the door, taking the ribbon with him. Lady Wilshire was stretched out on the bed, a shapely calf peeking out from under her skirt.
“I understand you are feeling a bit warm. Perhaps I can help you out of your dress, so you’ll be more comfortable.”
With a wicked smile, she raised her arms and drew him to her.
* * * *
In the distance, a dinner bell stirred them from their lethargy. “Well, my dear, it appears we have other appetites that need sating. I fear that the Horsham’s chef will have quite a time topping my last meal.”
“Mmm. No need to go. I can ring to have a tray brought up.” Lady Wilshire snuggled closer to his chest, gripping the fine lawn of his shirt. “Much as I enjoyed the blindfold, I’d like to see you this time.”
He grabbed her hands before they could remove the red ribbon he’d tied around her head. Sitting up, he smoothed his shirt down with one hand before slipping the cloth from her eyes. “I think not.”
In fact, that was definitely not going to happen. He climbed out of bed and reached for his breeches.
She hadn’t gotten the message. She sat up and raised an arm to stroke his back. “I’m sure we won’t be missed.”
Before she could touch him, he twisted away to don his pants. “You may not be missed, but I most certainly will be.”
As expected, that did not sit well with her. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. “So, what they say is true. You use women for your enjoyment and then leave without the slightest care.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You appeared to gain some enjoyment, Lady Wilshire. I cannot imagine you expected us to form a lasting entanglement.”
Giving him her finest pout, she responded, “Not a lasting one perhaps, but I’m sure a repeat performance would be mutually satisfying.”
“Perhaps another time. For now, I require some proper nourishment.” He pulled on his boots, grabbed the remainder of his clothes, and strolled out the door.
By the time he reached the bottom of the staircase, he’d tied his cravat, straightened his cuffs, and run his fingers through his hair, assuring it was neatly arranged. Entering the dining room, he took his seat without a word. When William caught his eye, Dare raised his glass and gave him a satisfied smile. His friend chuckled and returned to his soup.
Chapter 8
The morning was overcast, but that wouldn’t deter her. Nivea had been awake for quite awhile, listening to the sounds of the men as they prepared for one of the Horsham’s favorite pursuits—hunting. Yet another passion Nivea did not share nor understand. But their absence provided her with a perfect opportunity to pursue her plan. Now that she had overcome her loathing of horses, she had decided to become a more proficient rider. She donned a riding habit she’d found buried in the back of the wardrobe and headed toward the stables.
“Why, Miss Horsham, what can I do for you?” The stable hand gaped at her in astonishment as she approached the stalls.
“I would like you to saddle a horse please. Something fairly tame, perhaps like Buttercup’s Bloom, here,” she answered, pointing to a mare even she could tell was well past her prime.
The groom scratched his head. “You want me to saddle a horse…for you?” He glanced around for another possible rider.
Nivea couldn’t fault the man for his confusion, although it did sting. Except for dragging her brother from the building, she hadn’t set foot in the stable for years. And until Dare insisted, it had been over a decade since she’d climbed on one of the beasts. But she was determined to go through with this.
“Yes. I would like you to saddle a horse. For me.”
He shrugged and did as she bid. He led a sedate Buttercup to the mounting block, and after a few attempts, managed to shove her up onto the saddle.
Wiping his brow, he looked up at her with concern. “Would you be likin’ Seth to ride with you?”
Answering with far more confidence than she felt, she said, “No, that won’t be necessary. I won’t go far.”
Turning the horse away from the house, she nudged Buttercup forward, hoping no one would spot her. She knew her father had been surprised to see her riding the other day. What she wanted now was to gain enough skill so she could join the family for a ride. They were as comfortable