There was nothing for it, he was here, and he would do his best to honor Thorne’s wishes. Surely, he could survive one night of debutants.
He took another long drink of brandy before he capped his flask and closed his eyes.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar feminine voice fairly purred near his ear.
A roguish smile curved his lips, for it seemed his luck was taking a turn for the better. “Lady Lambert,” he said as he opened his eyes to greet the widow.
She gave a slight smile, her gaze full of invitation. “It has been some time, Your Grace.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. The last time he had entertained her had been several months back. Perhaps a year ago. “How long has it been? A year?”
She gave a nonchalant shrug. “I couldn’t say.”
The severe set of her face betrayed her feigned nonchalance, and he recalled why he’d ended the affair. She had become too serious—even a bit territorial. He’d wager she knew down to the hour how long it had been since he bedded her.
Regardless, she was just the distraction he needed tonight.
He brushed the back of one finger along her cheek and asked, “Have you missed me,” he leaned closer and added, “Kitty?”
Passion flared in her gaze. “Met me in the library in twenty minutes, and I shall endeavor to show you exactly how much.” She tapped her silk fan against his chest. “I promise I will not disappoint you.” Kitty pivoted, then fled in a billow of scarlet skirts, her hips swaying in invitation.
Giles waited a few minutes, then strode around the perimeter of the ballroom before exiting. As he made his way to the library, he sipped from his flask. A bit more brandy and a willing woman would set him to rights. After his little tryst, he would return to the ball and lend Thorne his full support.
For whatever that was worth.
Chapter 2
Juliet inhaled a deep breath as she turned to face the shelves of neatly bound books. All at once, her stress melted away, and her mood took a turn for the better.
She much preferred the scents of leather and vellum to those of the stifling ballroom. The intermingling rose, jasmine and sandalwood colognes and powders combined with bodily odors clogged her nose and turned her stomach.
But this. Ah yes, she adored the scent of the vast and utterly deserted library. Beeswax, tallow, leather, and vellum mingled with the smell of the crackling fire in the hearth. It was peaceful and inviting. And best of all, there was no one else about—no one to judge her and no one she needed to impress.
She was alone. Save for herself and the books, of course. Juliet smiled as she scanned row after row of volumes bound in brown, red, and blue with gold lettering. From where she stood, her sightline contained nothing more than books, and she adored the prospect of selecting one.
The idea of escaping into a different world and letting her imagination run wild always thrilled her. When she read, she became one of the characters. It was as if she got sucked right into the book and lived the story. There was no greater escape. Not for a lady, at any rate.
She stepped closer to the shelves, then reached out to run her fingertip along the book spines as she considered each in turn. Edgeworth, Hoffmann, Scott. All excellent authors, but not quite what she was looking for. Juliet strolled further down the row of books, then paused when she spotted a recent novel, Sense, and Sensibility by A Lady volume one.
Finding the author’s title and anonymity interesting, she plucked the book from the shelf and then opened it. She’d likely read it for no other reason than to support the anonymous female author. All the same, she hoped the storyline would be intriguing.
Juliet read the first line: The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. So it was to be a family tale, she thought as she read further. It did not take long to discover that the Dashwood females were in a precarious position. She determined the book to be well worth her time and continued to read.
Juliet considered sitting on one of the sofas or chairs scattered about the room, but thought better of it. It would not do for her to grow too comfortable, for if she did, she might forget to return to the ball within a reasonable amount of time. And if she dallied for overlong, Olivia would take notice and be cross with her.
One chapter, she reasoned with herself, and then she would return to the ballroom. With her decision made, she allowed herself to sink into the tale as she stood near the hearth with her body facing the bookshelves. After less than a paragraph, she was hooked on the story and devouring the pages.
“You are early, kitten.” The deep timbre of a man filled the room.
A pair of muscular arms came around Juliet as she heard the masculine voice. She jumped at the intrusion and unexpected contact, the book dropping from her hands to thwack against the floor.
“There is no need to play coy,” he said, then brought his lips to the column of her neck.
Caught completely off guard, heat spiraled through Juliet, and a small moan floated from somewhere deep inside her. She’d never had a man’s lips on her neck—never had much attention at all from men.
Who was this one, and more importantly, who did he think she was?
Regaining a bit of sense, she pulled away then turned on him. “Do you make a habit of accosting ladies?”
His eyes darkened from a light blue, green shade to more of a deep hazel as he stared at her. For a moment, he appeared unsure, perhaps confused, then he gave a devilish grin and said, “Only the beautiful ones.”
Her heart slammed in her chest as her pulse ticked up. He was tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome with his golden hair, patrician nose, full lips, and chiseled jaw. And he had called her beautiful! She’d never beheld such a man. Certainly never been complimented in such a way by an exceedingly handsome man.
He took a step forward, bringing his body closer to hers, and she smelled the brandy wafting from him. All at once, his behavior made sense. The man was foxed, quite thoroughly if she had to guess.
Juliet held out a staying hand. “Whoever you were expecting, I am clearly not her.”
“Certainly not.” He reached for her. “You are a far better surprise.” He caught her in his arms and brought his lips to hers.
Juliet thought she must be in a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. Either way, it was proving far too pleasant. New sensations traveled through her, her body feeling more alive than it ever had as he slanted his mouth over hers.
She should stop this at once. The man was clearly foxed. She could taste the brandy on his lips and she’d smelled it before. It radiated from him, but she did not find the smell or the taste off-putting. On the contrary, it smelled of fruit, a pleasant and earthy aroma mingled with the taste of sweetly bitter liquor as their lips joined.
If they were caught…
His tongue slid across the crease of her lips, and as if on instinct, she opened her mouth, allowing him entrance. Devastated, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on as he deepened the kiss. All thought fled her mind when he pulled her body tight against his, pressing her breasts to his muscular chest.
She’d been kissed before. Once by a neighbor boy. But that kiss… It could not compare to this. They had been children, and the kiss had been chaste. An experiment between two curious youths that left neither impressed. Nor had she experienced any of the sensations the man kissing her now was causing.