A Perfect Groom (4 page)

“Quite the crush, isn’t it?” Beside him, Gideon raised his quizzing glass. “Lady Farthingale will be crowing tomorrow. I heard she invited half the city.”

“And it appears few of them declined.” Many of the guests stood elbow-to-elbow, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Hundreds of jewels glittered and winked in the candlelight. With a single, practiced stroke of the eye, Justin’s gaze encompassed the room full of partygoers, the sea of shimmering ball gowns and elegant coiffures…until at last it settled across the room.

“I see you’ve found her.”

Justin responded with a lift of his brow. “I daresay you were right. She’s impossible to overlook.”

“Yes, she is that, isn’t she? And I see she’s garnered her usual audience.” Gideon snared two glasses of champagne from a white-gloved servant, handing one to him. “Silly young pups! Fools, all,” intoned Gideon, “that they fancy themselves in love.”

Love. For the swell of a heartbeat, an odd emotion churned in Justin’s gut. It wasn’t that he was incapable of that tender emotion. But he knew no woman could ever love
him
.

“So what was it if not love that sent you sniffing about the lady’s skirts?” he inquired.

Gideon’s half-smile left him in no doubt.

Justin’s regard returned to the woman across the room. He’d noticed her right off, and it wasn’t just the brightness of her hair that set her apart from every woman here tonight. Gideon was right, he surprised himself by admitting. The Unattainable was exceptionally tall for a woman, yet she didn’t shirk from it or try to hide it. A twinge of reluctant admiration cut through him. She carried herself like one who was proud of it — and God knew, she carried it well.

She was gowned in ice-blue satin, a shade that should have clashed hideously with her hair, yet didn’t. The empire waist fell in soft, delicate folds to the toes of her slippers. It made no secret of the fact that her breasts were delectably full and high on her chest. God knew he was a man who was an ardent admirer of bountiful, curvaceous breasts. Her shoulders were slim but broad for a woman, which somehow made the column of her neck, long and slender, appear all the more feminine, particularly when she tilted her head as she did just now. A froth of curls spilled over her shoulder, onto the generous expanse of her bosom.

Desire stirred, a dark stab in his middle. Her legs would be fashioned like the rest of her, he decided, long and slim and lithe, strong enough to wrap around his hips as he drove inside her. Granted, it was just as he’d told Gideon. He wasn’t partial to redheads. And he’d always avoided virgins like the plague. But
this
one…

He had to stop himself from taking an involuntary step forward. He only caught himself just in time! For the first time tonight, he experienced the ripeness of anticipation. He’d yet to gain a glimpse of her face, just a hint of her profile, which held a great deal of promise, her figure a great deal of allure. No, he wasn’t worried. His taste in women, as in everything, was fastidious. He wouldn’t bed a toad and Gideon knew it. Ah, yes, he reflected in mute satisfaction, to win this wager would be no hardship at all.

Gideon had noted his appreciation. “Stunning, isn’t she?”

There was no need to answer. “Well,” Justin murmured almost lazily, “I suppose it’s time I sent the pups scattering.” Suddenly he laughed.

“Bedamned!” he said. “No need to bother after all. She’s ducked behind the column near the dining room. And now another young woman has joined her —”

“Yes, that’s Georgiana Larwood, I believe.”

“No wonder she’s known as The Unattainable. It appears she’s determined to evade them. Or perhaps someone in particular.”

“Probably you,” injected Gideon with a smirk.

“Highly improbable,” Justin said smoothly. “Now, wish me luck, old man.” He drained his champagne and placed it on the tray of a passing footman. “Oh, and don’t bother calling for details early in the morn. I fear the night may be a long one.”

Gideon hastened to help himself to another glass of champagne. “Ah, the master at work! Perhaps I should take notes.”

“Oh, I’m certain you’ll find another diversion.”

Justin ambled across the ballroom, his path taking him ever closer to The Unattainable. He paused to chat with several acquaintances, among them the Dowager Duchess of Carrington.

The duchess peered up at him, her eyes a vivid hue despite her age.

“Justin!” she exclaimed, offering her hand. “How delightful to see you again.”

Justin kissed her fingertips. “I assure you, Your Grace, the pleasure is wholly mine.”

The elderly woman let out a resounding chuckle. “You know there was a time when I was convinced you were quite an irascible rake.”

Justin feigned astonishment. “What! Do you mean to say I am not?”

Her shoulders shook with laughter. “Never mind your wretched reputation. I know better, boy. Indeed, I’ve become quite fond of you the last few years.”

“A feeling I return in full sentiment, Your Grace.” Justin spoke with genuine affection.

“Save your charms for the younger ladies, m’boy. Which reminds me, I was just telling Sebastian and
Devon
very recently that I do believe it’s time you set your mind to taking a wife. So if need be, keep in mind I shall be happy to lend my matchmaking efforts.”

Justin laughed softly. “You do love to play matchmaker, don’t you?”

The duchess settled both hands on her cane. “I do,” she declared, her eyes sparkling like a girl’s. “I once told your brother it was high time he married, and look at the outcome!”

Justin thought of Sebastian, blissfully enamored of his wife and family. While the hand of fate was squarely behind the fact that
Devon
landed in Sebastian’s arms and life, the duchess had indeed played a part in steering the pair together when it appeared Sebastian might lose his ladylove.

“So,” the duchess finished with a vigorous wave of her cane, “should my services become necessary, you have only to say the word.”

Justin chuckled. The duchess spoke not with her hands, but with her cane. Many a word was punctuated with a stab of that infamous instrument, and God help anyone who chanced to get in the way when she wished to make a point. “I assure you, Your Grace, should it come to that, you shall be the first I shall call upon.”

She beamed. “Excellent!”

He bade the duchess farewell, bowing low. When he straightened, he caught Gideon’s eye.

Gideon raised his champagne in silent salute.

Justin smiled to himself. The chit’s back was to him now, but she was still there. He’d yet to see her face, and he was suddenly impatient.

Three steps closed the distance between them. He acknowledged her companion with a faint nod, but his attention was solely for her…

She turned then, this chit known as The Unattainable.

Even as a part of him acknowledged that she was a feast extraordinaire for the eyes and senses, he was pricked by a horrifying certainty.

A hundred thoughts, a hundred curses skittered through his mind in that instant. Oh, Christ, but he should have listened to his instincts…he should have known. Perhaps he
had
.

Justin did not thank Gideon in that moment. He did not thank
Providence
. For in his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined it could possibly be true.

But it was. Sweet Christ, it was.

The woman before him was none other than the bane of his youth. The wretched little brat who’d made such a nuisance of herself in her younger days…

Three

“Miss Arabella Templeton,” he drawled as he recovered his powers of speech, a recovery he considered miraculously swift, thank God.

In truth, he was still reeling. But by God, he wouldn’t show it. Not to her.

He glanced at her companion. “It’s Miss Larwood,” he murmured, “is it not?”

Georgiana blushed and swept a curtsy. “It is,” she said breathlessly.

“Miss Larwood, it is indeed my very great pleasure to introduce myself. I am Justin Sterling. But you would indulge me greatly if you would allow me a word with my old friend Miss Templeton.”

Georgiana’s mouth opened and closed.

“What! Miss Templeton neglected to tell you of our acquaintance?” He shook his head. “Why, I’ve known her since she was a child!”

Georgiana seemed decidedly nervous. She glanced at Arabella, then back at him.

Justin slanted a half-smile. “I do not bite,” he said lightly. “You have my undying promise to leave her in one piece.”

“But of course, my lord.” Georgiana curtsied again and swept away.

Justin transferred his gaze to Arabella. He bestowed on her the smile that invariably sent the ladies to swooning — all ladies but her, that is.

Her consideration of him was surely destined to put the fires of hell to shame, he noted. Blithely he ignored it. “It has been a long time, has it not?”

“Not long enough.” The words emerged from between gritted teeth.

Still as charming as ever, he observed.

“What do you want?” she said tersely.

He feigned great affront. “Oh, come. Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

His gaze ran over her. Gideon had been right. A conventional beauty she was not, but she had a mouth like sin and eyes the color of heaven. Christ, had he really told Gideon she sounded positively ghastly? Lord, he was the world’s biggest ass!

Up close, she was even more breathtaking than from across the ballroom. Gone was the thin, gawky child whose carrot-red curls seemed to eclipse the whole of her being. Instead there stood a vibrantly sensual woman who wreaked havoc on his senses.

The exposed skin of her shoulders glistened like porcelain. Affixed on a fine gold chain was a tiny sapphire that nestled in the velvet cleavage of her breasts. There were no feathers or pearls in her hair, no bracelets circling her wrists. He approved the costume for its very simplicity. In truth, she needed no other adornment to make her shine.

And shine she did.

His gaze, hot and avid, lingered on the tempting hollow between her breasts. A dark, swift heat seized hold of him as she took a breath. By God, he thought, every other woman in the room paled in her presence. She was ripe like a warm, sweet peach just waiting to be plucked.

He dragged his gaze reluctantly to her face, only to find her blue eyes dark with outrage, the fullness of her mouth pursed into a tight little knot.

He decided to remain at arm’s length for now. If he got any closer, she might well fasten her fingers around his neck.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded.

“I’m simply marveling at how you’ve grown. Why, you must surely stand eye-to-eye with many a man.”

Arabella stiffened. She’d always hated her body. For as long as she could remember, she’d been a full head taller than every other girl she knew.

But she didn’t stand eye-to-eye with Justin Sterling. Indeed, if she gazed straight ahead, her focus came to the very center of his mouth, now curved into a lazily wicked grin. And yet, it was rather nice, actually, to feel for once that she wasn’t a great behemoth.

If only it were any other man but him!

“Do not mock me,” she said curtly.

He swept her his most courtly bow. “I do not mock you.” He shook his head. Again his gaze slid over her, lingering on the swell of her breasts beneath her bodice, an unmistakably simmering appraisal. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, “how you’ve changed!”

Silently, Arabella consigned him to a fate most reprehensible. Aloud she snapped, “And I see you have not.” But in truth, he had. He was bigger, even taller than he’d been at eighteen. She’d noticed it right off. Beneath his jacket his chest was broad, his shoulders lean but wide. Broader than she recalled…

The realization was downright disturbing.

He stepped close. She resisted the urge to step back.

“Do you know,” he went on, “when my friend Gideon made mention of The Unattainable, I was
pricked
by the oddest thought. Odd, that I should think of it that way, don’t you agree?” He sighed. “Ah, but I have such memories of you, Miss Templeton. Not fond, but memories just the same.”

“Indeed?” she inquired coolly.

“You don’t remember? Well, then, let me refresh your memory. We were at the Dowager Duchess of Carrington’s estate in
Kent
, as I recall. There was some sort of outdoor entertainment —”

“It was a play,” she interrupted.

“Ah, yes. Well, then, since you’ve obviously recovered your memory, perhaps you’ll remember crawling about on the ground, playing some game, or so I was convinced. Imagine my surprise when you crawled beneath my chair, took a pin, and stuck me through the shoe.”

“Perhaps you should have worn boots,” Arabella said sweetly.

“That’s what Sebastian always said. Oh, but your little prank was always the source of much amusement for my brother.”

Arabella winced. She wasn’t proud of her behavior that day, but she wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand, either. “I begin to recall. You were limping when you left, weren’t you?”

“Indeed. I did my best to avoid you, but you saw my horse and came running. I thought you meant to apologize, so I stopped. You offered me your hand to kiss —so much the little lady! — and so I took it. I thought I was safe, for the duchess had her eye trained on us.”

As he spoke, he edged nearer. This time Arabella
did
try to step away, but the column was at her back. There was nowhere she could go to escape him.

And indeed, escape was foremost in her mind. For the glint in his eye set her heart to leaping and her pulse to pounding. What the devil was he about?

She looked him straight in the eye.
The handsomest man in all England
. Yes, she’d heard tales of him. Some women, she knew, considered the man engaging. Disarming. Arabella considered him the worst sort of cad imaginable.

“Would you please leave?”

“Miss Templeton, how rude! I’ve not yet finished my story.”

“I know the outcome.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard. “But then the duchess turned away. You fisted your fingers and drew back your hand, and punched me with all your might. You left me bloodied and looking as if I’d been injured in a boxing match. Indeed, that’s what I was forced to tell my friends.”

“So you lied!” She made no secret of her disdain.

“Obviously you know little of a man’s honor. Was I to tell them I’d been bested by a child?”

Arabella snorted, a distinctly unladylike sound. What did a man like him know about honor? He was a selfish scoundrel, who cared nothing about anyone but himself and his indulgences.

Her frame of mind was little improved when he laughed, the wretch! She disliked being the source of his amusement.

Her gaze slid beyond his shoulder. “I don’t see your companion,” she stated pointedly. “Hadn’t you better find him?”

“Oh, but I cannot leave you here alone. Indeed, I count myself quite the gallant. I saw you hiding from your admirers, in particular dear Walter, and decided to rescue you.”

Arabella fumed. Drat! He was too astutely observant for his own good…and for her comfort.

“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” she said stiffly. “It was only because I wounded your pride that you did.”

Again that slow, simmering look. “Oh, but you do yourself an injustice. I’ve just spent three months on the Continent. And what do I find when I return? All the
ton
raving about The Unattainable. And, I must say, with good reason.”

Her back stiffened. “Pray do not make light of me.”

“A mere statement of fact. My friend Gideon regaled me with countless tales of your suitors. And all true, it would seem, for it has come to my attention tonight that men do have a tendency to stare at you.”

“Just as women have a tendency to stare at
you
.”

“And you, Miss Templeton? Are you among those women?”

His tone was cajoling, almost lazily caressing…accompanied by a smile in perfect harmony.

Arabella was amazed, and more than a little incensed. Did he truly think she would allow herself to be taken in by it…by him?

Apparently so.

“Let me say this, my lord. If I should ever chance to stare at you, ‘tis only because of your arrogant impudence.”

To her utter shock, that devastating smile only deepened.

It only made her all the more determined. “And if you should ever chance to make me shiver from head to toe, it will be in disgust. For I, sir, would never allow myself to be swayed by a handsome face and a winsome smile.”

He was undaunted. “My, but you’re prickly tonight. Perhaps I was wrong and you haven’t changed at all.”

“Nor have you, sir.” Eleven years had passed since they’d last seen each other. Eleven years and he was still a prancing young buck. A profligate. A hellion. A heartbreaker, as she well knew.

“I’m flattered that you remember me so well.”

“Don’t be,” she said flatly. “Even if your reputation did not precede you, I’ve an excellent memory for faces.”

He regarded her, that wretched smile still lingering on his lips. “I confess, my dear Miss Templeton, that I am given to wonder what makes men flock to you like hounds to a fox. Certainly it is not your flirtatious mien.”

Before she knew what he was about, he snared her hand. Arabella tried to snatch it away, but it was neatly trapped by the snugly unremitting pressure of strong male fingers.

“You doth not protest, my dear. We’ve an audience.”

Oh, God, he was right. More than a few heads were turning their way. And Walter stood on the sidelines, looking for all the world as if he’d been whipped.