Seducing an Angel by Mary Balogh Read Free Book Online Page A

her.
    Miss Susanna Blaylock had already promised the waltz to Freddie Davidson, Stephen discovered when he approached her after the second set. She looked quite openly disappointed and told him that she was free for the next set. Stephen reserved it with her. It was, of course, the dance after supper.
    And then, before he could continue with his quest for a waltzing partner, a few of his male acquaintances drew him into their group to ask his opinion upon whether one of them ought to purchase a set of matched bays or matched grays to pull his new curricle. Which would look more sporting? Which would be more manageable? More fashionable? Faster? More suited to the colors of the curricle? Which would the ladies prefer? Stephen joined in the discussion and the bellows of amused laughter it occasioned.
    If he did not draw away soon, he thought after a couple of minutes, there would be no lady left to dance with him—and he hated not to waltz.
    “Why not one gray and one bay?” he suggested with a grin. “Now, that would draw you all the attention you could possibly desire, Curtiss. But if you fellows will excuse—”
    He was turning as he spoke and did not finish his sentence because he almost collided with someone who was passing close behind him. Sheer instinct caused him to grasp her by the upper arms so that she would not be bowled entirely over.
    “I do beg your pardon,” he said, and found himself almost toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye with Lady Paget. “I ought to have been looking where I was going.”
    She was in no hurry to step back. Her fan was in her hand—it looked ivory with a fine filigree design across its surface—and she wafted it slowly before her face.
    Oh, Lord, her eyes almost matched her gown. He had never seen such green eyes, and they did indeed slant upward ever so slightly at the outer corners. Viewed against the background of her red hair, they were simply stunning. Her eyelashes were thick and darker than her hair—as were her eyebrows. She was wearing some unidentifiable perfume, which was floral but neither overstrong nor oversweet.
    “You are pardoned,” she said in such a low-pitched velvet voice that Stephen felt a shiver along his spine.
    He had noticed earlier that the ballroom was warm despite the fact that all the windows had been thrown wide. He had not noticed until now that the room was also airless.
    Her lips curled into a faint suggestion of a smile, and her eyes remained on his.
    He expected her to continue on her way to wherever she had been going. She did not do so. Perhaps because—oh. Perhaps because he was still clutching her arms. He released them with another apology.
    “I saw you looking at me earlier,” she said. “I was looking at you, of course, or I would not have noticed. Have we met somewhere before?”
    She must know they had not. Unless—
    “I saw you in Hyde Park yesterday afternoon,” he said. “Perhaps I look familiar because you saw me there too but do not quite recall doing so. You were dressed in widow’s weeds.”
    “How clever of you,” she said. “I thought they made me quite unidentifiable.”
    There was amusement in her eyes. He was not sure if it was occasioned by real humor or by a certain inexplicable sort of scorn.
    “I do recall,” she said. “I did as soon as I saw you again tonight.How could I have forgotten you? I thought you looked like an angel then, and I think it again tonight.”
    “Oh, I say.” Stephen laughed with a mingling of embarrassment and amusement. He seemed particularly inarticulate this evening. “Looks can deceive, I am afraid, ma’am.”
    “Yes,” she said, “they can. Perhaps on further acquaintance I will change my mind about you—or would if there were any further acquaintance.”
    He wished her bosom were not quite so exposed or that she were not standing quite so close. But he would feel foolish taking a step back now when he ought to have thought to do it as soon as he let go of her arms. He felt