And she was—awed enough at meeting the man even his opponents spoke of as likely one day to become Prime Minister that for an instant, she forgot his physical allure.
But only for an instant. With her next breath, the shock of learning his identity was once again subsumed in awareness of the powerful attraction he generated.
What a combination! she thought dazedly. That intense masculine appeal embodied in a man pursuing a career she admired above all others. And despite what he’d said, there was something of the wicked about him.
Rather than preening a bit at her obvious admiration, though, as most men world, he seemed somewhat discomforted—an unexpected display of modesty that only enhanced his charm.
She barely suppressed a sigh, immobilised by eyes that seemed to look deep into her soul.
‘Thank you for the compliments, though I’m sure I do not deserve them,’ he said after a moment, as if only then realising that they’d spent the last several minutes just gazing at each other. ‘And forgive me for speaking slightingly of George. From the article I read recently in the Morning Post, it appears I should wish you happy?’
‘Wish me happy?’ she echoed. As his meaning grew clear, irritation flashed through her. ‘Certainly not! As a member of my father’s Tory caucus, I see Mr Hadley quite often, but there’s no understanding between us. Newspapers!’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘The gossips have been pairing me off ever since I came out of mourning.’
‘So you are not about to bestow your hand on my half-brother?’ At her negative shake of the head, he smiled again—that brilliant smile that made her stomach do little flips and curled her toes in her half-boots. ‘I have to admit, I am glad to hear it.’
No female he smiled at like that would ever look at his half-brother. Dazzled, she said without thinking, ‘George Hadley isn’t looking for a wife, but someone to reflect his glory, and I make a very poor mirror.’
Not until those honest but appallingly indiscreet words exited her lips did she realise how much Giles Hadley had unsettled her. She seldom voiced unflattering assessments of her acquaintances, and never to a stranger.
Flushing with mortification, she said, ‘Pray, excuse me! That was most unkind, and I should never have said it.’
‘Even if you know it to be true?’
‘Whether or not it is true is irrelevant,’ she shot back, flustered. ‘I am not generally so critical. Or at least, I seldom utter such criticisms aloud,’ she amended more truthfully.
‘Then I am all the more honoured by your honesty. And relieved, I must say. Women usually find George charming.’
‘Truly?’ She frowned, replaying in her mind’s eye a typical exchange with the man. ‘Perhaps with ladies he wishes to charm. When we converse, he always seems to be looking towards my father, as if he’s much more interested in Papa’s approval than in mine.’ She made a wry grimace. ‘Makes me feel rather like a prize pullet he’s bartering to install in his hen house. And I should not have said that, either.’
Hadley laughed. ‘If that’s true, he’s even more a fool than I thought—and I should not have said that! But there’s bad blood between us, as I imagine you know.
‘So I understand. I always find it sad when there is a dissension within a family.’
A bit more than dissension—there’d been a scandal of rather large proportions, she knew, although she’d heard none of the particulars. Hardly to her surprise, he did not attempt to enlighten her.
Before she could introduce some safer topic, her cousin’s aide, John Proctor, rushed into the room. ‘Lady Margaret, are you all right?’ he cried. ‘Armsburn and I have been looking everywhere for you! When I heard about the ruckus on the square, and then couldn’t find you...’ He exhaled a shuddering breath. ‘I knew Michael would have my head for leaving you on your own, had you been harmed or even frightened! Please, forgive me!’
‘Nothing to forgive,’ she replied. Except his arrival, which would doubtless mean an end to her interlude with this fascinating gentleman. ‘Mr Hadley took good care of me.’
The two men exchanged bows. ‘Hadley, we are much in your debt for safeguarding Lady Margaret,’ Proctor said.
‘It was my pleasure,’ Hadley replied. ‘I’d advise you to take better care of your lovely canvasser in future, though. If I find her wandering unattended again, I might just keep her.’
His words, and the beguiling smile he directed at her as he said them, sent a little zing of pleasure through her. Empty gallantry, she told herself, trying to fight the effect.
Before she could try to determine how genuine the compliment might be, Proctor took her arm and all but tugged her out of her chair. ‘Can I escort you back now, Lady Margaret? Your cousin is most anxious.’
‘I wouldn’t wish to worry Michael, of course.’ With regret, she turned to her rescuer. ‘I very much enjoyed our conversation, Mr Hadley. Despite holding opposing views, I hope we may continue it at some time in future.’
‘You could not desire it more fervently than I! Good day, Lady Margaret,’ Hadley said, and bowed over her hand.
As his fingers clasped hers, her heart fluttered and a flush of heat went through her. It took her a moment to remember to pull free from his grasp.
‘Good day to you, Mr Hadley,’ she said faintly, acutely conscious of his gaze on her as she walked out.
She would like to meet him again, she thought as her cousin’s aide escorted her through the taproom. Though it would be better if she did not. She cringed inwardly as she recalled the unguarded words she’d let slip about his half-brother. A man mesmerising enough to cause her to suspend all of her breeding and most of her common sense was best avoided.
But oh, how he stirred her mind and excited her senses!
‘I hope you weren’t too friendly with Hadley,’ Proctor said after he’d helped her into the carriage.
‘Since when do I become “friendly” with men I hardly know, John?’ she replied sharply.
Proctor held up a restraining hand. ‘Please don’t be offended, Lady Margaret! I know it’s not my place to question your behaviour. But Michael—and your father—trust me to watch out for you. I’d have you steer clear of Hadley. He’s a dangerous man.’
‘Dangerous—how? Surely you don’t believe all that nonsense about the Hellions! My father told me he admires him.’
‘His own half-brother refuses to associate with him, and he’s completely estranged from his father. His views are extreme, even for a Radical: he’d give the vote to every man in England, from the highest lord down to a common stew from the London slums. I’ve heard he even favours abolishing the House of Lords entirely!’
‘Shocking, certainly,’ she allowed, unsettled to have the radical nature of his positions confirmed—if what Proctor said was true. ‘But Papa has always favoured an open exchange of views, even if the two parties cannot ultimately agree. I doubt I could be endangered just by talking with him.’
‘Perhaps. But a man with such extreme political views might have equally radical social ideas—advocating Free Love and the abolishment of marriage, perhaps. I wouldn’t trust a lady in his company, certainly not alone in a private room.’
Did Hadley believe in Free Love? No wonder he seemed wicked! The naughty idea sent a spark through her still-simmering senses. Oh, she could readily imagine making free with him!
She shook her head to rid her mind of the lusty—and pointless—thought. She