Eloquence and Espionage by Regina Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

bedtime.
    She heard the door snick open behind her,
and her heart leapt (goodness, that cliché was true too!). Turning,
she saw the shadow of a man walking toward her. The moonlight
revealed curly blond hair and a gamin grin.
    “I hoped I might find you out here,” Horatio
Cunningham said.
    Ariadne beamed at him, happiness bubbling
up. “And I hoped you’d be the one to find me.”
    He came to stand beside her, and they shared
a conspiratorial smile. He leaned the elbows of his evening black
on the balustrade. “What a fine night. The stars shine like the
light in your eyes.”
    “Very good,” Ariadne said with a nod.
“You’ve been practicing.”
    He cast her a glance. “What gentleman
wouldn’t practice when preparing to meet great beauty?”
    Oh, but she could fall in love with this
man. “And what exactly do you plan for your great beauty?”
    He straightened, and her heart hammered so
hard she felt it to her toes. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
    A request for a dance? The promise of a
kiss? A proposal of marriage? “Anything,” she murmured, swaying
closer.
    He leaned closer as well, until she could
smell the spice of his cologne. “Do you think Priscilla Tate truly
intends to marry Nathan Kent, or do I stand of chance of winning
her affections?”
    Ariadne straightened, staring at him.
“What?”
    He straightened as well. “I suppose it is
presumptuous. I haven’t the fortune and address to win such a
beauty. But I cannot stop thinking about her!”
    Oh, the ignominy! Over the years, she’d
accustomed herself to Priscilla or Daphne or even Emily getting the
lion’s share of attention, but even from him? No, that simply
wasn’t in the script.
    She narrowed her eyes in sudden suspicion.
“Have you ever dressed like a Roman centurion?”
    Even in the moonlight she could see him
blink. “No. Do you think that would help?”
    Ariadne pointed to the ballroom, holding her
trembling finger stiff from sheer force of will. “Out. Now. And
never darken my door again.”
    “But I haven’t darkened your door,” he
protested, backing away from the fury that must be written on her
face. “That isn’t even your door.”
    Ariadne followed him. “Leave, or I shall
scream and you will find yourself forced to offer for me to save
your sorry reputation.”
    Faced with such dire consequences, he
ran.
    She shook her head as she lowered her
finger. Coward. Priscilla had tried to tell her a few days ago that
Mr. Cunningham was not the man she thought him, but Ariadne hadn’t
wanted to believe her. Still, it was rather disappointing to find
that her sterling hero had feet of clay.
    Or no feet at all, as the case would be.
    “He wasn’t worth your time,” said a warm
male voice from the darkest corner of the balcony. “You are well
rid of him.”
    Ariadne sucked in a breath. “If you are here
to ask after Daphne or Priscilla or Lady Emily, you can follow him
through the door this minute.”
    “Why would I want to ask after any of them
when I came here for you?”
    A shadow detached itself from the wall and
strode toward her. Though she’d been waiting for just this moment,
she backed away until she bumped into the balustrade. Moonlight
glided strong brows, a leonine nose, firm features softened by a
generous mouth that was curling even now in a smile. The black of
his evening coat suited him, as did the perfectly tied cravat, the
white-on-white Marcella waistcoat. Like his clothing, he was a man
of extremes.
    He was certainly not Archibald Stump or
Freddie Pulsipher, and she knew he wasn’t Horatio Cunningham. With
fifty-fifty odds, she lowered her gaze and dipped a courtesy. “Lord
Hawksbury.”
    He jerked to a stop. “My word, but you’re
clever. What gave me away?”
    She smiled as she rose. “My friends and I
were able to lay our hands on Lord Rottenford’s guest list. Between
Priscilla’s knowledge of Society and Emily’s family connections, we
narrowed the list down to four men who might