Caught In His Embrace

Chapter Two

Arm in arm the pair entered the ballroom, a flawless ease of elegance and grace between them both. Pembroke, dressed immaculately yet as though without much care, unlike the ridiculous dandies, and Angelina like a Grecian goddess at his side.

A smirk grew on Angelina's lips as she heard the not so subtle approving murmurs around the room.

Pembroke was notorious, but her name was revered. The beautiful, bright daughter of an earl who would inherit an eye watering fortune. Mothers wanted her for their sons, those foolish sons wanted her for her beauty, and the other women in the room wanted to gouge her eyes out just to make her less appealing to their beaux.

It was hypocritical, really. Were she any ordinary debutante of the season hanging off the arm of Lord Pembroke, she would be ruined, but she was not. No one dared to utter a word against her, and few really wanted to. They made a handsome couple, after all, and with her wealth, she was untouchable.

"I always can't help but find it odd that mothers only come with their daughters, and leave their sons to fend for themselves." Angelina mused, fingers resting lightly in the crook of Pembroke's elbow.

"Not so odd, really, given that we're better at taking care of ourselves." Pembroke said with a smirk, and Angelina rolled her eyes. She didn't miss his blatant teasing.

"Oh, please."

Pembroke raised his eyebrows, "I'm not the one who takes three hours to get dressed."

Angelina gave him a well aimed whack with her fan.

"But don't be so harsh, Annie, there are some men with their mothers." He sounded far too smug, and Angelina didn't have to look to see his smirk in the direction of the most obvious target. Poor fumbling John Parsons - aptly training for the ministry - coddled clearly since birth by his mother.

"All rather lacking, aren't they."

He wasn't necessarily a bad looking man, but there was just something unfortunately unappealing about the way he had a tendency to hang onto his mother's every word.

"And what about," Pembroke lowered his voice, "Frederick Keynes? I see his mother standing watch with those hawk like, beady eyes of hers."

Angelina scoffed, "She's there for his sisters. You can hardly say that Frederick Keynes is lacking in any respect."

Pembroke raised an eyebrow. "Should I be jealous?" He asked coolly, watching the dark haired man across the room.

Angelina giggled, her fingers digging into his arm a little, "Only if you want to be."

"And do you want me to be?" He replied softly, a strange feeling growing in his chest, something rather unfamiliar even to him.

"Hmm," she mused, swiping a flute of champagne from a passing footman, her eyes lingering across the room as she took a sip.

Pembroke was watching her as she watched Keynes, and she smiled as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Keynes must have sensed the eyes of the couple upon him, for he turned to them to raise his glass in greeting. His own eyes found Angelina and she smiled prettily, while he smirked.

"I think yes." Angelina finally replied, smiling sweetly. She downed the rest of her glass, dropping it back on a tray, wiping a gloved finger over her lips as she turned to Pembroke. "Yes, I rather like a jealous man."

●●●

Arthur Pembroke watched, amused, as she glided over to Frederick's side. The usually confident gentleman seemed irritatingly unperturbed by Angelina's unconventional approach. She had clearly decided it was not worth her time to catch the master of ceremonies to make the introduction for her, and instead was already engaged in what was most definitely not an interesting conversation.