Rebels of the Regency: The Wayward Paperback Collection (5 x 8)

SNIPPET FROM - EVERY DUKE HAS A SILVER LINING

"Shall we dance, Lord Howley?"

"Ashley!" her sister, the Marchioness of Chilsten, scolded. "Maybe his lordship does not wish to dance."

She met his eye, smiling a little at her sister's forwardness. "Apologies, my lord. My sister is new to society and its rules."

He reached out his hand, slipping Miss Woodville's into his. It was small and delicate and covered in silk. He wanted to strip her of the smooth confines and feel her. Revel in her touch.
He shook the thought aside. What was wrong with him, acting as if he cared? He did not. He merely was here to stop her from making a mistake. Nothing more.
"When it comes to society's rules, I too am rusty, so long have I lived without them. But I would be honored to dance with you, Miss Woodville," he said.

She grinned, throwing a triumph glance over her shoulder to her sisters, who looked less than pleased to let her step out with him. Nevertheless, they conceded, and he escorted her onto the dance floor, other couples joining them in the Gavotte.

"So you came, my lord. I did not think I would see you here. I thought I would have to go against your orders and visit you at the hell again if I wished for another conversation."

He pulled her against him, moving them through the dance steps as the music floated through the room. "You would not dare, Miss Woodville. I forbade you to do so."


She shrugged, and his attention snapped to her delicate shoulder and the low cut of her gown. He took a calming breath, having not seen her in all her finery, the twinkling candlelight making her look ethereal and too beautiful for words.
"I thought that you would have been engaged by now. Is there no gentleman in the ton who has caught your heart yet?" he teased her, his words beyond what was acceptable.
Not that he cared. There was no one to listen to what he said.

Her eyes flew wide, and she glanced about, ensuring privacy. "No, my lord. There is no one, not yet at least. But the Season is young, and I have time to make a gentleman fall in love with me."

"That is true, Miss Woodville, and I'm sure they will, so long as you behave yourself and do not ruin your reputation by visiting the East End of London as you have been. I hope you have stopped your foolishness?"

"We have." She nodded. "Not since you returned us home have we partaken in another dare. We have learned our lesson," she said, all innocence, and yet her eyes twinkled with mirth as if she were teasing him.

"Do not lie to me, Miss Woodville. It would help if you did not put your reputation at risk. No lark is worth a life lived in the shadows, where even your family and friends are frowned upon should they visit you." He knew this fact himself, so long had he lived it. Not to mention his poor mama, who had lost everything she held dear, including her husband.