Deceiving the Viscount

Chapter 1B

Garrett leaned close to Miss Marlowe as he led her to take a turn around the room. "Thank you for agreeing to give up some of your time and spending it with me. I'm deeply appreciative of it."

"It is my pleasure." She smiled at him prettily. "It is why we are here at this soiree, are we not? To find a suitable person to marry."

His surprise at her frankness had him distracted for a second and he nearly bumped into another guest. He stepped closer to her to avoid it, which brought him perilously close to her, but she didn't shy away. If anything, her smile grew bigger. "My lord? Are you not here for the same reason?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I am." At the expectant look in her eyes, he paused and blinked, unsure how he should continue. He cleared his throat again. "I...my apologies, Miss Marlowe, for my...faltering speech. Your candour has caught me off guard and I find myself unable to react in a way that is suitable by society's standards yet will not offend you."

She sent him an enigmatic smile before looking about. Then she changed direction, and steered him gently with a press of her hand. He followed until they stood near the walls, blocked from the rest of the crowd. Rather, she was blocked by the gentlemen and the tall feathers that some of the ladies were wearing.

She crooked her fingers for him to come closer to her. He obliged. "Closer, Lord Healey. What I wish to say is only for your ears." So, he leaned down and heard her whisper something and the sensation of her breath against the outer shell of his ear tickled him. It wasn't too much of a distraction but for the life of him, he couldn't decipher what she was saying.

He turned to look at her, questions in his eyes, but she only smiled. He was about to ask her what this was all about when she winked at him and lifted a finger to her lips, looking extremely satisfied, as if she were a cat that had gotten its fill of cream.

"Miss Marlowe-"

She shook her head as she laid a hand on his arm. "Let us stand here in this little corner for a little while. Cocooned from the rest of the world."

He understand not what this was about, but he wasn't in a position to not oblige her. He nodded. "As you wish, Miss Marlowe."

"You are a very accommodating man, My lord."

He inclined his head. "Thank you." He wondered if he should continue, and decided to take a gamble. "Though I sense a hint of sarcasm. I might be wrong, however."

She looked properly horrified. "What a thing to say to a lady, my lord!"

He opened his mouth to apologise when he saw the hint of mischief in her light blue eyes, reminding him of Miss Blackmore, nay Mrs Brookfield. His heart pinched but he shoved it aside. He should no longer pine for her. Miss Marlowe deserved his attention. And if a part of him felt a longing for Miss Marlowe because she resembled Miss Blackmore...Mrs Brookfield in demeanour, he would tell no one.

She leaned back against the wall, looking down while twirling her fan this way and that. He stood beside her, crossing his arms and his booted feet, staring out into the crowd.

The next dance had just been announced and couples were forming their lines for a country dance. He briefly glanced at the ladies in attendance, and would have looked away had a familiar silhouette not catch his eye.

He looked again, scanning the couples for the one he couldn't forget. His gaze landed on the back of her head and he pushed away from the wall, a foot in front of the other, all ready to march up to the front so he could be there when the dance finished. But when she turned around, it wasn't her face that he saw, though there was a smidgen of resemblance in her profile, especially in the curve of her jawline.