Lorelei winked. "Who knows?"
Chapter Four
Desmond stood with Martin in the large parlor, watching as Martin's guests milled about while waiting for the musicale to commence. The musicians in the front of the room quietly tuned their instruments. Liveried footmen presented trays filled with wine but Desmond was not interested.
He was impatient for Lorelei to arrive, a fact not lost on Martin.
"I still cannot believe my matchmaking attempt was nearly thwarted. Yet, even though you met with the wrong woman, I shall count this as my latest success."
"I can allow you that, since I am quite pleased with the outcome," Desmond replied. "But I cannot help but wonder—why did you not have me meet her instead of the original one?"
"I did not know she was in town!"
Desmond did his best to soothe Martin's ruffled feathers. "You are forgiven. I am enchanted with everything about her. Her laugh, her teasing banter. I swear I am already half in love after knowing her all of two days."
Martin snorted. "I am well aware your affairs d'amour have a short expiry date. I would caution you not to trifle with her affections."
"Your warning has arrived too late. She has already informed me she has no interest in anything longer than a holiday amour."
"I do not know whether to laugh at such news or console you. Here you are, ready to relinquish your frolicsome ways—"
"You will never cease reminding me of that, will you?"
Martin shook his head, grinning. "Not for some time. Especially since it seems you have found the one woman who enchants you and will hinder your newfound intentions for something more serious. I never could have guessed it was a possibility."
"Nor could I," Desmond answered ruefully. Before he could curse his misfortune, he saw Lorelei enter the room, accompanied by a lovely woman he guessed was her sister. They were chatting happily, glancing about, smiling as they shared their observations with each other.
"Did you just sigh?" Martin teased.
"I shall pretend I did not hear you," Desmond answered, "all while plotting revenge against you if word ever gets out about my heartfelt emotions."
Martin chuckled. In the next moment, Lorelei and her sister were standing before them, and Desmond realized he was holding his breath. He let it out, ignoring Martin's knowing chuckle.
"Mrs. Collins," Desmond said, lifting her gloved fingers to his lips. "Such a delight to see you again."
"Thank you. May I introduce my sister, Mrs. Beatrice Goddard?"
Desmond gave her a brief bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I found your children utterly charming."
"You were fortunate to meet them on a day when they were not tired, or hungry, or out of sorts for a reason no one could discern." Beatrice smiled. "They were quite enchanted with you. In truth, I wonder if I can attribute their recent good behavior to that day."
Lorelei pretended to pout. "I was certain it was due to my latent maternal skills rising to the fore."
"There is only one way to know for certain," Beatrice added, her eyes twinkling. "Perhaps you would be amenable to coming round for tea one afternoon, Mr. Mayfield?"
"I would enjoy nothing more."
Lorelei said, "The real test will be when they ask you to assist them with making paper chains. It is their favorite activity at the moment."
"I believe my latent chain-making skills can rise to the challenge."
"Mrs. Goddard," Martin said, "I wonder if I could use your assistance." He held his arm out for her and they moved across the room, chatting as they left Desmond and Lorelei behind.
"He is not so subtle as he believes," Desmond said. "Yet I am grateful for a moment to speak with you alone."
"A pity there is no mistletoe displayed, or the opportunity to put it to good use."
"I have stashed some away for later."
"You are quite prepared."
Desmond smiled, wishing he could kiss her right there. It seemed her eyes were saying she had the same desire. He did not dwell on the impossibility of that. After all, he was content just to converse with her. The moments together made him wish for more, however, a sensation he found both unsettling and thrilling.
"I have come prepared as well," Lorelei said. She opened her reticule to display a large bunch of mistletoe. "I hope I did not crush too many of the berries in the process."
His delighted laughter made her eyes light up. "I know of nothing that says a crushed berry is unable to fulfill its duty where kisses are concerned."
Lorelei smiled, and Desmond's heart began a familiar dance. "I was hoping you would think so. It would be a shame to think they made such a sacrifice for no good reason."
Desmond wanted to take her hand and disappear until they could find a secluded spot to honor the mistletoe's valiant efforts on their behalf. Unfortunately, Martin reappeared at that moment, with Lorelei's sister by his side.
"We should find our seats," Martin said, "as the music is about to start."
"Will you be favoring us with a song?" Lorelei asked Desmond.
"I fear my vocal skills would be deemed terrifying. A few notes from me would empty the room in an instant."
"Surely you judge yourself too harshly," Beatrice said.
"I thought so once," Martin added cheerfully, "but it was after a long night of drinking brandy. The next morning, I did not know if my aching head was from the excess of alcohol or Desmond's vocalizing."
Desmond grinned. "That was also the last time Martin and I performed a duet. We have been warned, by every one of our clubs, that our memberships will be instantly revoked if we ever attempt to sing a single note."
"I wonder if we are not the recipient of an elaborate falsehood," Lorelei said, "to prevent them from being enlisted in participating this evening."
"I suspect you are correct," Beatrice said.
"There is something to be said for appreciating those with talent," Desmond said smoothly. He held his arm out toward Lorelei, and she placed her hand atop his forearm. "Shall we?"
Lorelei winced, but managed to keep her fingers away from her temple—or worse, plugging her ears to block the sound emanating from the young woman at the front of the room.
"Are you certain," she whispered to Desmond, "that you cannot be persuaded to deliver a tune? It would be the charitable thing to do in this moment."
He continued looking straight ahead, but she saw his lips twitching with amusement. "I would not wish anyone to believe it was a competition. It might never cease otherwise."
"You are probably correct. I believe this song is nearly finished. Oh, dear. She is repeating the previous refrain."
She started to reach for her temple, to rub at the headache threatening to begin, but Desmond took her hand in his, managing to hold it without calling attention to his action. It was a bold thing to do in a room filled with so many people, surrounding them on all sides.
He turned his head slightly, raising his eyebrows, asking her permission. Her breath caught in her throat but she managed a brief nod. She could not deny he captivated her at every turn. Still, she knew it was a momentary sensation, one that would fade away before too long, and it was her obligation to make sure she had departed before the feelings did.