A Little Bit Sinful. Adrienne Basso
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very much out of her character. “I beg your pardon, Lady Agatha. I did not hear your question.”
Though Eleanor could have sworn it had been a female voice that was talking, it was the viscount who spoke.
“Lady Agatha and I were wondering why we have not seen either of you in Town.”
“Bianca and I usually reside at our home in the country,” she answered. “We have only recently arrived.”
“How fortunate. Your presence adds the beauty we were missing and will serve to elevate the Season to a spectacular level,” he said grandly.
Eleanor nearly rolled her eyes at the flowery sentiment. “London hardly lacks for beautiful women, my lord.”
“Pretty, perhaps. Yet none quite as lovely as the two of you.” He spoke the words to her, since she had answered him, but it was plain to all that he meant them for Bianca. “I believe there are many gentlemen who will take umbrage with the earl for delaying your arrival in Town.”
“I have a suspicion that the earl is the type of man who keeps his most precious things hidden away, out of sight,” Lady Agatha interjected with a superior smirk.
Bianca lowered her head modestly. Eleanor smiled dimly, relieved that a female’s vapid smile was usually taken as a sign of agreement. Precious things! How preposterous. Why, if they knew the truth about the earl’s treatment of his daughters they would be appalled.
So tell them. A devilish urge of honesty was something that plagued Eleanor at the most inconvenient times. As much as she would have liked to dispel this myth about their father, it would hurt and embarrass her sister. Not to mention enlightening any of these people as to her father’s true character would be social suicide.
“Now that we have been properly introduced, I shall shamelessly beg for the honor of a dance,” Lord Benton said. “Lady Bianca?”
Bianca looked down at the viscount’s extended hand, then over at Eleanor. Heart fluttering with worry, Eleanor eyed the viscount suspiciously. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes told her he was too old for her gentle sister, the arrogance in his sensual smile bespoke of a sophistication way beyond Bianca’s comprehension.
But Bianca’s eyes were pleading with her to agree. She had promised herself she would be vigilant, yet not unreasonable with the men who paid court to her sister. So Eleanor nodded her head in permission.
Bianca’s face broke into a smile. “I shall be delighted to dance with you, my lord.”
In silence, Eleanor and Lady Agatha watched the pair walk away. “What can you tell me about the viscount?” Eleanor asked the moment the couple took their place in line for the quadrille.
The older woman nodded in understanding. “A handsome devil, is he not? And more than charming, especially when the mood suits him.”
“Unmarried?”
“Of course. I would not have made the introduction if he were a married man.” Lady Agatha lifted her chin and let out an offended sniff. “He has an old and distinguished title. The Dodds were royalists who fought beside King Charles and were rewarded handsomely for their loyalty when the throne was reclaimed. On his mother’s side he can trace his ancestry back to the Conqueror, though there is rumored to be some Welsh blood mixed in several generations ago.”
Lady Agatha’s tone implied that was not a desirable connection, but Eleanor dismissed it as insignificant. “I do not want a list of his pedigree, Lady Agatha. What of his character? Is he a good man?”
“Good? Why, he is good at many things. An excellent rider, a keen shot, a fashionable dresser, as you can plainly see. He runs with a bit of a fast crowd, though that part of his life is clearly changing. His close friend the Marquess of Atwood married last year and has settled well into domesticity.”
Eleanor had difficulty picturing Lord Benton doing the same. Still, it could happen. She digested the information thoughtfully. “So you believe it is Viscount Benton’s intention to follow his friend’s lead and marry?”
Lady Agatha shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I have heard nothing specific about Benton actively seeking a bride this Season. But a man of his years must be thinking about settling down and setting up his nursery. I know it was his grandmother’s fondest wish. What better way to honor her recent passing than to marry a suitable young woman?”
It was a skillful, yet evasive answer. What exactly was Lady Agatha trying to hide? Knowing she had only a limited amount of time to question the older woman, Eleanor considered the best way to get to the heart of the matter. “Tell me, Lady Agatha, would you encourage your granddaughter to set her cap for the viscount?”
The look of horror on Lady Agatha’s face was all the answer Eleanor needed. “Goodness me, Emily is such a sheltered, timid girl. I’m certain Benton would not look twice at her.”
“Bianca is equally young and naive,” Eleanor replied tartly. “I thank you for your honesty, Lady Agatha.”
“Good heavens, Lady Eleanor, I fear you have misunderstood my remarks,” Lady Agatha began, but she was silenced by the arrival of Bianca and the viscount.
They were all smiles, clearly having enjoyed their time together. Eleanor waited, curious to see what the viscount would do next. It would be exceedingly forward if he asked Bianca to dance with him a second time.
For one wild, impulsive moment she wondered whether he would solicit her for the next dance. Eleanor’s hand tightened on her fan. The very idea gave her a flash of excitement and she felt embarrassed for being so foolish.
“I usually ride in the park at the fashionable afternoon hour,” the viscount said. “I do hope if we chance to meet, you will take pity on me and spare me more than a moment of your delightful company, Lady Bianca.”
Bianca cast confused eyes toward Eleanor, clearly at a loss how to reply. Though they had been in Town for several days, Bianca’s lack of a fashionable wardrobe had kept them virtual prisoners inside their rented townhome. They had not ventured much beyond the few blocks surrounding the residence, coming reluctantly to this evening’s ball only at the earl’s insistence.
“I am uncertain as to what my plans will be tomorrow,” Bianca finally answered.
“Just say you will be there.”
Bianca lowered her chin and blushed, her nod of acceptance barely perceptible.
The viscount smiled. “I look forward with great anticipation to seeing you again, Lady Bianca. And you also, Lady Eleanor,” he added hastily, casting a consolatory glance in Eleanor’s direction.
Her spine stiffened. She had no need of his pity.
Eleanor extended her hand in farewell, fascinated by the sudden tingling that shot through her when she ever-so-briefly touched the viscount’s palm. Eleanor felt her cheeks warm at her schoolgirl reaction. She was far too mature to be so easily thrown into confusion by such a simple gesture.
“How was your dance?” Eleanor asked her sister the moment they were alone.
“Wonderful.” The smile of delight reached Bianca’s eyes, making them sparkle. “Lord Benton is very skillful. And when I accidentally missed a step, he apologized and said it was his fault, when it so obviously was mine. He is a true gentleman.”
Two charming dimples appeared in Bianca’s cheeks as her grin deepened. Seeing them made Eleanor’s heart turn over.
“You liked the viscount?”
“Very much indeed.”
“You don’t think he is a bit old for you?”
“Old? Not at all. He’s probably only a few years older than you. Surely you noticed all the other gentlemen who danced with me are as old as Papa.” Bianca wrinkled her nose. “Or older.”
“Yes, I had noticed.”