Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Do you want me to join you?” My aunt asked.
I most definitely did not. A moment of peace was what I was after. Listening to more dreadful gossip or facts, whatever it may be, about the ton would only cause me further duress. “No, that won’t be necessary. I will be just there if you need me,” I told her then walked past the lemonade for fear she would take my pause as a chance to catch up to me.
The briskness in the evening air was refreshing, but not enough to make my future appear brighter. The warmth inside was just as stifling as the people surrounding me. So many people and so much talking. I didn’t know a time where I’d been required to talk so much about nothing at all of importance. I was not talented at appearing meek, gentle, or demure and it would seem that was the basic list for a gentleman’s search for a wife.
“I’m not known to attend the gatherings of London society, but I’m within the circle enough to be certain, I have never had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. A new face, especially one as beautiful as yours, isn’t forgotten,” the voice was smooth, refined and masculine. I had come outside to escape talking and it seemed as if it would now follow me out here.
I turned to see who had interrupted my solitude. A one Mr. Compton stood before me with his hands tucked into his front pockets and his jacket slightly askew. A lock of his blond hair had come loose from the hair tie that was at the nape of his neck. The evening breeze caught it and I watched as it danced beside his cheek. His features, although similar to his brother’s, weren’t as harsh or cold. There was a welcoming softness to him that didn’t lessen his beauty, only making him more approachable.
“I didn’t come to interrupt your escape from the insanity inside. I just wanted to meet the lady who shut down my brother so effortlessly. Possibly shake your hand if I may be so presumptuous.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I replied, feeling accused of something that was completely incorrect.
“I’m sorry, I should have begun with an introduction. I am Nicholas Compton and Ashington is my brother, half-brother. We only share a father.”
As intriguing as I was sure he meant for that small clarification to be, I was already aware of who he was and his relationship to the rude Earl of Ashington. However, pointing out my prior knowledge was of no consequence.
“Mr. Compton, I did not shut down Lord Ashington. I merely corrected him. You see he is not on my dance card this evening and allowing him to take another’s spot was rude. I am not rude nor do I condone rudeness.”
Mr. Compton’s mouth turned up at one corner into a crooked grin of sorts. He seemed to find my response amusing and as attractive as he was, I didn’t see how his behavior was much better than his brother’s. They may both be devastatingly handsome, but I wouldn’t be drawn in by something as shallow as appearance. Beauty was truly only skin deep. As for Mr. Compton, he may not be arrogant like his brother, but the wicked gleam in his eyes did not commend him to me at all.
Chapter Four
Mr. Nicholas Compton
This was not why I had come but then beauty had always been my unfortunate weakness. My intentions were inside the ballroom, currently being charmed by my older brother. If I were to accomplish humiliating him, I had to stay focused on the plan. However, I was a man who enjoyed beautiful women and the one before me was not only stunning but the challenge in her eyes called to my basic instincts. The only thing better than a beautiful woman was a challenge. She was both but she was also not why I was in London for the season. I couldn’t lose my focus because of beauty. Revenge was far greater an emotion than lust or desire.
“I’m trying to decide if Fletcher is feeling empowered by the experience or terrified of any future dealings with Ashington,” I said, ignoring her protest that she had done nothing to Ashington. Her refusal on the subject meant nothing. She had, in fact, turned her nose up at his interest and that couldn’t be denied, no matter how lovely she might appear trying to do just that.
“I am sure Mr. Fletcher is neither empowered or terrified. He was a smart man of few words and a competent dance partner,” she said in defense of Fletcher. There was no flutter of lashes or gentle manner in which she spoke. Instead, there was a fire behind her remarkable eyes and I was drawn to it. Reckless of me indeed, but it couldn’t be helped. She was a rare find.