The Hunger by Susan Squires Read Free Book Online

the floor toward Langley. “Langley, I say, did you survive your ordeal? I’ll wager you had the devil of a headache!”
    “Nothing to speak of.” He bowed. “Lady Lente.” Hisforehead sported a colorful bruise under his careless lock of hair.
    “Surprised to see me?” she asked, one brow raised.
    “Not at all.” He made his mouth quite serious. “I have been expecting you this hour.”
    But Thursday he thought she wouldn’t have a card. Suddenly she realized that if he knew she had procured one just to meet his challenge, it put her at a disadvantage. How maddening that she was predictable!
    “I say, Langley, how do you know the countess? You have been out of town for a month!” He looked from one to another. “Berkeley Square . . . You can’t mean you were on your way to . . . when you were—”
    “I was promised to the countess that night,” Langley agreed.
    “Actually he was promised Tuesday and was two days late,” Beatrix observed.
    “I did move heaven and earth to keep the engagement.” Were his eyes laughing at her?
    “No. You only moved three thugs by Ponsonby’s account.”
    Langley’s eyes shifted lazily to the younger man. “So, you are Bessborough’s son.”
    Ponsonby clicked his heels and bowed. “Your servant.”
    “I hear the Twelfth Light may be leaving for the Peninsula shortly.”
    “I haven’t heard those orders,” Ponsonby said, startled. “Not but what I’m eager to see some action. Our boys would love to be in the thick of it with Wellington.”
    “He shows promise as a general,” Langley agreed. “Not that anyone in the government seems to care. They keep him short of specie and supplies, and he gets half the men he needs.”
    “Not everyone understands the important role of the Peninsula in the overall strategy of the war,” Ponsonby exclaimed. “If we show Europe Boney is not invincible,insurrections will bloom across the Continent like May flowers, and the alliance with Russia must surely collapse.”
    “But if the puppet regimes are brought down, what will replace them? Weak governments in exile or awkward coalitions . . .” Langley shook his head shortly and was about to continue.
    Beatrix clapped her hands. “ No politics.” They started. “Politics bore me.”
    “And is that the measure of a subject’s worth?” Langley drawled, recovering.
    “Courtesy should prevent your wanting to bore your companions,” Beatrix observed.
    “Perhaps,” Langley said to Ponsonby, “the weather will turn fine tomorrow. Do you expect wind?”
    Ponsonby glanced nervously to Beatrix.
    “I expect very windy conditions, if tonight is any indication,” Beatrix observed dryly. The orchestra struck up a waltz. She could feel Ponsonby gathering himself. Taking the offensive, she turned to Langley. “Is your shoulder sufficiently recovered for a waltz?”
    She saw with satisfaction that she had disconcerted him, if not for brazenly asking him to dance, then for the fact that she had ferreted out his secret wound and he wasn’t sure how.
    “I am always game for a waltz.” He extended his good right arm, while Ponsonby gaped.
    She laid her hand on his forearm. The fabric of a shirt, her glove, and his coat lay between them. Yet it seemed she could feel his strength, the warmth of his body, the physicality of him, all in forearm laid to forearm. Dear God, but he felt male!
    Langley led her to the floor, leaving Ponsonby looking about himself. Langley nodded, amusement lurking in those green eyes, and clasped her waist with his right hand. He held his left out resolutely at the correct angle, though Beatrix noticed the twinge of pain he masked socarefully. Beatrix stared up into his eyes as she laid her left hand on his undamaged shoulder. Couples whirled around them as they stood, a still center to the music. Almost lazily, she placed her right hand in his left. He held her gaze as he stepped into the dance. His carriage was erect but not stiff, as graceful as she knew