The Viscount and the Virgin by Annie Burrows Read Free Book Online Page B

had thrown her drink over him, ‘I hardly know myself.’
    If it had been on just that one occasion, he could have put it down to a momentary aberration. But since that night, he always knew when she was at any function he attended. The nape of his neck would prickle, and he would turn and find those knowing eyes fixed on him, and instead of feeling the contempt for her that her behaviour deserved, he would want to stalk across the room, free all that luxuriant hair from the pins that were scarcely restraining it, yank her into his arms and yield to the temptation of those seductively parted lips. He was beginning to think she, or some woman like her, could offer him a temporary respite from his torment. If he could just bury himself in that tempting little morsel for an hour or two… But then what?
    By making such a girl his mistress, he would only prove his father right. Only a worth less rogue would ruin a girl from his own class.
    Even if she was asking for it.

Chapter Three
    â€˜N ow, Imogen, I need hardly tell you that it is quite a feather in your cap to receive an invitation to Lady Carteret’s. Nor how important it is that you do absolutely nothing to raise eyebrows tonight.’
    â€˜No, Aunt,’ replied Imogen meekly.
    She was quite sure she would have no problem at all tonight affecting the slightly bored expression that was de rigueur for young ladies. She would be bored! Nobody talked about anything but dresses, and who was the latest arrival in town and how much money they had.
    How on earth her aunt expected her to find out enough about a man to decide she wanted to marry him, when nobody spoke about anything that mattered, she had no idea!
    As soon as they entered the house, Imogen under stood why she had been invited. Lady Carteret was obviously one of those women who would enjoy boasting that her event had become a sad crush, even though the Seasonhad not yet properly begun. The rooms were already crowded and hot, but since it was only just February, nobody dreamed of opening any windows. All she could do was ply her fan as energetically as she dared.
    â€˜Midge!’ cried a beloved voice, making her glance up from her perusal of her so-far-empty dance card. ‘I thought it was you! My, don’t you look splendid!’
    Imogen ignored the reference to her appearance, which was entirely due to her aunt’s generosity and good taste. Tonight’s white gown, the debutante’s uniform, had been lifted above the ordinary by the addition of a silver gauze over dress. The material was so delicate that Imogen was scared to sit down, never mind fling her arms round her brother, which was what she really wanted to do.
    â€˜Oh, Rick! How glad I am to see you.’ She smiled. ‘You won’t mind dancing with me, just the once, will you?’
    â€˜I should love to,’ he replied gallantly, ‘And I am quite sure Monty will do the same. He is here to night, you know. That is how I come to be mixing in such exalted company. Hanging on his coat-tails!’
    â€˜Really?’ Imogen’s heart lifted still further at the prospect of finally coming face-to-face with her brother’s friend.
    â€˜Really,’ Rick assured her. He scanned the crowded room rapidly, a frown darkening his features. ‘Can’t think where he has got to, though. Was stood just over there a minute or so ago. Tell you what, Midge, you wait here, while I go and find him.’
    â€˜Even better, Rick, why don’t I go and wait out on the terrace and you can bring him to me there. I need some fresh air.’
    â€˜Yes, dashed stuffy in here,’ he agreed, running his finger round the inside of his rigid stock. ‘Tell you what, I will fetch you a glass of champagne, while I am at it. In fact, that is probably where Monty’s gone—to get a drink. He was complaining about the crush and the heat himself.’
    Imogen smiled at the sight of Rick shouldering