A woman like the one who’d just entered the ballroom.
Zounds! He straightened and closed his mouth. He did not care to appear the complete gape-seed if she should look in his direction.
She was beautiful. Tall, much taller than the older woman at her side, with glorious, wonderful, lusciously full curves. The neck of her gown was, sadly, too high—it covered far too much of her lovely porcelain skin. He would love to touch that skin with his fingers and lips and tongue. Mmm.
And her hair? Also lovely. It was gathered high on her head, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face. His fingers twitched to burrow through that silky mass, freeing the copper-colored length to tumble over her shoulders. Her naked shoulders.
Her naked breasts.
Could they be as large as they looked?
She took a step; turned to talk to her companion. The skirt of her dress pulled tight for a moment, outlining her hips and long, long legs.
Bloody hell, he was almost panting.
Who was she? Perhaps Alex knew. “Alex.”
“What is it?” Alex glanced over his shoulder. “Are you still hiding?”
“No. The Addisons are on the other side of the room. But come here, will you? I’ve got a question for you.”
“Very well.” Alex stepped around the palms. “Always glad to be of service, of course.”
David gestured toward the ballroom entrance. “Who is that woman?”
“Which woman? Surely you aren’t interested in one of the elderly ladies tottering down the stairs?”
“Of course not, you cabbage-head. It’s the tall, beautiful girl on the landing I’m asking about.”
“Oh.” Alex raised his eyes. “How should I know? She must have been in leading strings—if she was even born—last time I was in London.”
“So you have no idea who she is?” Damn. David felt a stab of disappointment.
“No.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so anxious to identify the chit? Has she stolen something of yours that you need to alert the Bow Street Runners about?”
Yes. My heart.
God, he hadn’t said that aloud had he? No, Alex was still looking at him with that faintly amused expression. If he’d spoken it, the man’s jaw would be on the floor.
And it wasn’t true in any event. Yes, one of his organs was definitely engaged—and wished to be much more intimately engaged—but it wasn’t his heart.
“Of course not. It’s just that I’ve decided…” David cleared his throat. “That is, I believe the lady would make an excellent baroness.”
“What?” Now Alex’s jaw did drop, and he sloshed champagne on his waistcoat. “Are you daft?”
“No.” David might not know the woman’s name, but he knew he wanted her. She was the first woman he’d seen who’d provoked any, er…interest in him at all. In fact his interest was so great it threatened to become embarrassing.
She wouldn’t be crushed in his bed. He might need to be gentle with her sensibilities, but her body would fit his perfectly. He took a mouthful of champagne, but he barely tasted it. Regrettably, his body was all too anxious to see exactly how well they would fit. He’d best find a way to control his raging interest before he made her acquaintance. She might be more than a little startled if he fell on her like a lust-driven schoolboy.
Her companion had stepped forward so her profile was now visible. David nodded at her. “Perhaps you know that woman, then. I imagine she must be the girl’s mother.”
“I don’t know why you think I—” Alex looked up at the woman and stiffened. “No.” He sounded oddly agitated. “I wouldn’t…she’s rather…she looks—” He made a strangling sound.
“What’s the matter?” Alex was reacting damn peculiarly. David studied the older woman. She wasn’t doing anything unusual—just looking around the ballroom. Her gaze came to Alex…Her mouth fell open, her eyes grew wide, and all the color drained from her face. She grabbed her daughter’s arm.
Ah, the daughter. She was looking at him now, and a very attractive flush swept up her neck to cover her cheeks. Did it also sweep down her body? How fervently he wished he could see…
He could almost feel her eyes on his shoulders, his face. Her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips.
He’d seen women look at him before. This girl wanted him. She probably didn’t know that yet…she was far too innocent to recognize what she was feeling, but he would be more than happy—dashed delighted!—to explain it all to her. In detail. In lovely, hot, wet, slow detail.
“Bloody hell,” Alex murmured. It couldn’t be. Alex squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again.
It was. Damn. It was Kate.
After all these years, he was in the same room as Lady Kate Belmont—except now she was the Countess of Oxbury.
But Oxbury was dead, had been dead a year. He’d died around the same time as Mama and Da.
Kate had closed her mouth and was turning away, her hand grasping the arm of…her daughter?
No, that wasn’t her daughter. It couldn’t be. He’d kept track. She and Oxbury had had no children. No sons—the title had passed to Oxbury’s cousin—but no daughters, either.
He was embarrassed to admit it, but it had always comforted him that Kate had had no children with Oxbury. He snorted. Did he think her relationship with her husband had been platonic? Unlikely, though Oxbury had been thirty years older than she.
He watched her walk off with the girl. She was still very pale.
David grabbed his arm again. “You do know the pair. Can you introduce me?”
“No!” Kate would have nothing to do with him or with David—with any Wilton. And the girl…she must be a relative. Kate’s brother, the Earl of Standen, had had a daughter…
Even worse.
David was scowling at him. Alex took a calming breath. “The older woman is the Earl of Oxbury’s widow.”
“And the girl? They are obviously together. They must be related in some way—the age difference is too great for them to be merely friends. Yet if the matron is the Countess of Oxbury…”
“She is definitely the countess. I think the girl must be her niece—the Earl of Standen’s daughter.” The bloody bastard.
“So, can you introduce me?”
“No.” Approach Kate? She would probably spit on him.
“Why not? You obviously know Lady Oxbury.”
“I knew Lady Oxbury. I doubt she’d recognize me now.”
David choked on his champagne. “Oh, I’d say she definitely recognizes you, Uncle Alex.”
Why the hell was David grinning at him? “I meant recognize. She’ll give me the cut direct if I try to speak to her.”
“I don’t think so. Introduce me,” David said. “I may not be quite as lofty as an earl, but my barony is an old, respected one. I—”
“You have not been attending. Clear your mind of lust. This has nothing to do with you. Did you not hear the girl’s father’s name? She is the daughter of the Earl of Standen.”
“So? I can—oh.” David’s arrested expression would have been comical in other circumstances.
“Exactly. Standen. The man whom your mother, Lady