Today's Reading
Even though he'd only kissed her because she was conveniently beneath the mistletoe, she was still flustered. She was an unremarkable wallflower with neither a title nor a fortune to recommend her. He was clearly a shocking flirt who loved playing with fire.
Anyone could have seen them. There were over three hundred people here, all talking and dancing, some fewer than ten feet away. True, the kiss had been so brief, it could have been interpreted as him whispering in her ear, but even so, he'd been courting a scandal.
Ellie stared up into his face, certain she'd never seen him before in her life.
"Who are you?" she demanded hoarsely.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her as if the two of them were complicit in some marvelous secret.
"Apart from the man who just kissed you? I have many names."
"You mean you possess a title?"
"Several. Although I rarely use most of them."
She almost stamped her foot at his deliberate evasiveness. "What should I call you, then?"
"Your latest conquest? Your most ardent admirer?" He swept her another extravagant bow.
Ellie rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling too. There was something so playful about his outrageous flirtation that it was impossible to take him too seriously.
He turned to face the room again as if nothing had happened, and she took a steadying breath and tried to glean more clues about his identity.
The perfect cut of his dark jacket could only have come from one of the eye-wateringly expensive tailors on Bond Street, and a real diamond glittered on the gold bar brooch nestled in his white cravat. He clearly had money. And exquisite taste.
"I'm Eleanor. Eleanor Law."
His dimples reappeared. "I know who you are.
You're the daughter of Sir Edward Law, the Lord Chief Justice."
"Then you have the advantage of me," she said pointedly.
He ignored the hint. "Do people call you Nellie?"
"Not if they expect me to answer."
"Noted. What do your friends call you? Elle? Nell?"
"Ellie."
"That's what I shall call you, then."
She raised her brows. "That's rather presumptuous.
I don't think we can even be called acquaintances if I don't know your name."
"Ah, but mere acquaintances wouldn't have kissed, and we've already passed that awkward stage."
Oh, he was infuriating! Still, she couldn't deny that she was enjoying their sparring. She hadn't been so intrigued, nor so entertained, by a man for months.
She was about to demand his name again when Daisy bustled up, breathless and laughing from her waltz. She dismissed her partner with an elegant wave, shot Ellie's incriminatingly flushed cheeks a fascinated glance, then turned to their mystery companion with a wide, open smile.
"Good evening, sir. I see you've been keeping Ellie company. I don't believe I've had the pleasure."
He took her extended hand and bowed. "A regrettable omission, but easily remedied. You are Lady Dorothea Hamilton, are you not? Your father is the Duke of Dalkeith."
"He is. And you are...?"
"Enchanted to meet you."
He shot Ellie a laughing, sidelong glance, as if he knew just how much his continued evasion was annoying her, then finally relented. "Henri Bonheur, Comte de Carabas. At your service."
Daisy smiled again, but Ellie narrowed her eyes. "A French name. Yet you have no trace of an accent."
"Why, thank you. My childhood tutor would be delighted to hear it. He always impressed upon me the need for perfection in all my endeavors."
...
