White Regency 03 - White Knight by Jaclyn Reding Read Free Book Online Page B

staring, were the brightest blue he’d ever seen.
Still, any number of the other young women who had attempted to attract him
before could lay claim to similar loveliness. How had she been able to arouse
him so thoroughly when no other had?
    He realized then there was something to
her—a difference, a uniqueness he could not quite define. How else could he
explain how he had gone from seeking to teach her a lesson in one moment to
being the one who was overcome in the next? How had she managed to defeat the
untouchable self-control he had spent most of his life perfecting?
    He wondered who she was, but then told
himself it was better to keep her a stranger. Once he was wed, any assignation
between them would be impossible. He would not tolerate adultery in his
marriage. He would demand fidelity from his wife and would practice the same.
It could be no other way. So better to get her out of his dressing room as
quickly as possible.
    Christian crossed the room in two strides
and opened the door. He stuck his head out and shouted “Jackson!” to
the empty corridor. He stood, watching her askance as if he didn’t quite trust
she would stay on the other side of the room. In truth, it was himself he couldn’t
trust; he didn’t think he would be able to restrain himself a second time from
taking her.
    When no response came to his summons,
Christian went out into the hall. He was readying to call out again when a
liveried footman appeared at the top of the stairs—a very large liveried
footman who had become quite adept at handling occasions such as these. Lord
knows he’d had plenty of experience.
    “My apologies for not having come
sooner, my lord. There was a situation belowstairs that required my
attention.”
    Christian frowned. “There is a situation here that requires your attention as well.”
    The footman exhaled loudly. “Another
one?”
    Christian motioned toward his dressing
room door. “Please escort the young lady back to the fete. And then make
certain that all the doors on all the servants’ passageways are securely
bolted.”
    “Aye, my lord.” Jackson headed
for the door. “Miss, if you’ll come with—”
    But the footman turned back toward
Christian with a look of confusion. “My lord?”
    Christian made for the door, knowing even
before he got there what he would find.
    She had indeed gone, vanishing just as
quickly as she had come, leaving Christian to stare at the vacant wall panel
she’d fallen through moments earlier, far more befuddled than he cared to
admit.
     
    Lord Cholmeley dozed in the coach after
they left the ball, leaving Grace to stare out the window at the rain-slick
London streets and the hazy glow of the lamplights through the swirling fog.
She was thankful for the solitude, for it allowed her to better come to terms
with the unbelievable events of that evening.
    She still wondered how she had made it out
of that house after what had taken place in Lord Knighton’s dressing room. She
had taken the back stairs, slipping through the wall panel when Lord Knighton
had gone into the hall. This time, however, she had found the way straight to
the parlor as if her feet had always known the path. There she found her uncle
and quickly asked him to take her home, telling him she was unwell—“a
female ailment,” she’d added. A well-worn excuse, she knew, but it was the
only thing she could think of that wouldn’t have had him instantly
interrogating her. Instead he flushed pink and quickly set off to summon the
coach and retrieve their cloaks.
    As they had come through the entrance hall
on their way to leave, Grace had spotted Lady Eleanor standing on the opposite
side of the ballroom. At the sight of her, Grace had been filled with a feeling
of regret. Eleanor had been so kind, so encouraging, and Grace felt she owed
her some sort of explanation. But at that moment, she hadn’t known if she would
be able to frame a coherent sentence. Her heart had still been pounding from
the