The Birth of Blue Satan by Patricia Wynn Read Free Book Online Page A

had been forced to watch all night.
    St. Mars’s voice, with its deep, masculine tones, still reached her ears.
    “Forgive me for arriving so late this evening, Mrs. Isabella. Dare I hope you’ve saved at least one dance for me?”
    “Faith, sir, you will have to ask my mama, for I’ve made so many promises, I’ve well nigh forgot to who. Apply to her now, if you will, for I see Lord Kirkland bearing this way, and the next is his.”
    “Isabella—”
    Hester winced at the urgency in St. Mars’s voice before he was cut off by a gentleman demanding Isabella’s attention. After a few polite exchanges, Lord Kirkland swept by Hester, leading Isabella out onto the floor.
    Hester would not let herself turn around. She would not turn around to see the light going out of St. Mars’s eyes.
    After a few moments, he stepped up beside her. His lips were compressed into a thin, bloodless line. When he felt her sympathetic gaze upon him, he responded with a self-disparaging grin, which lightened his features but did not remove the worry from his eyes.
    “Mrs. Kean—” he bowed with a flourish— “would you take pity upon me and favour me with this dance?”
    Hester made a quick search over her shoulder, but Mrs. Mayfield was more than ten feet away, engaged in conversation with a countess, and so could neither frown at Hester nor interfere.
    “I should be delighted, my lord.” Hester started to smile, before St. Mars, stepping forward to take her hand, suddenly turned a ghastly pale and wavered on his feet. She reached one hand to grasp his elbow. “My lord?”
    “It is nothing.” The colour of his cheeks and a hint of sweat upon his brow belied his words. “However, it might be best if we sat this dance out, if you will forgive me.”
    Suppressing her keen disappointment, Hester looked quickly about and spied two chairs just being vacated in an alcove to the right. “Certainly, my lord. Will you come this way?”
    Gideon offered her his arm and did his best to lead her in the direction she’d indicated, without passing out from the sudden dizziness that had seized him. His infernal wound had begun to throb, to which must be added the effect of the frustration he always felt in Isabella’s presence. He tried not to lean on Mrs. Kean, but he found he needed her support. Fortunately, she gave it without appearing to mind, as she remarked on the beauty of Lady Eppington’s decorations.
     A likeable girl, Mrs. Kean. Now that he thought of it, he had always enjoyed her company, ever since that first day they had met in Isabella’s drawing room. There was something in those cool, grey eyes of hers that was reassuring. A man always knew where he stood with Mrs. Kean—she was honest, and something told him she had a sense of humour, too. She had not called anyone’s attention to his dizziness either, for which he was sincerely grateful.
    They reached the alcove, and Gideon insisted on seating her before he lowered himself into his own chair. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I cannot think what came over me. But I would not wish to embarrass you on the ballroom floor.”
    “Are you quite all right? I could fetch a doctor.”
    He gave a quick laugh. “Now you sound like my groom.”
    At her quizzical look, he explained, “I meant that quite kindly, I assure you. My groom, Thomas Barnes, has taken good care of me since I was a babe in leading strings, which makes him inclined to assert the privilege of a nurse. I have just had to discourage him from hovering over me in the most discountenancing way.”
    “I see.” In spite of these words, she studied him cautiously as if worrying out a puzzle. “Was there some reason, my lord, why your groom believed you should have a doctor called?”
    “No, nothing—” But Gideon found he could not lie to Mrs. Kean, not with those intelligent eyes of hers fixed upon his face. “That is to say, I did have an altercation earlier this evening, which is one of the reasons I was late.