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.She smiled up at him, her arm looped through her husband’s.Waxham inclined his head in greeting.“My that is a dark look,” she said.A clap of thunder punctuated her words.“Sophie, Waxham,” Geoffrey greeted.Waxham gave a slight bow.“You scoundrel,” Sophie whispered.She crossed her arms over her middle.“You had me so thoroughly convinced of your intentions for one lady, and then I must find out from the scandal sheets that you’ve in fact been courting another?”Geoffrey took another sip of champagne.“It appears you’ve done an even poorer job in reigning in my sister’s cheekiness,” he said to his brother-in-law.“I wouldn’t even begin to dare try,” Waxham drawled and waved over a passing servant.He accepted a glass of champagne and returned his attention to Geoffrey.“My efforts would prove futile, especially after you’ve indulged her hoydenish behavior through the years.”Sophie swatted her husband on the arm.“Oh, do behave.The both of you.” She arched a brow.“And do not think to shift the topic, dear brother.Are the reports correct? Am I to acquire a sister-in-law?” Enthusiasm underlined her conspiratorial whisper.Geoffrey choked around the mouthful of champagne.His sister’s eyes lit up like a child’s who’d tasted her first ice at Gunter’s.“I am! You needn’t deny it.Your reaction quite confirmed your intentions.”He frowned, glancing around to determine whether anyone happened to overhear Sophie’s pronouncement.Lords and ladies throughout the room eyed him with a rabid curiosity that made him grit his teeth.If it weren’t for the desire to see Abigail, he’d have taken leave of the evening’s festivities a long while ago.“Do you have no control over your wife?” he said from the corner of his mouth.His brother-in-law snorted.“If you must ask such a question, it would seem you know your sister a good deal less than I’d originally believed.”Sophie went on as though they hadn’t spoken.“I can hardly imagine that my very proper, very dull brother has gone and won the affections of an American woman.” At Sophie’s pronouncement, a bolt of lightning lit the ballroom.Geoffrey’s body jerked.The jagged light lit up the sky and spilled through the floor-length windows and into the room.Sophie blinked.“Never tell me you’re afraid of a little lightening, brother?” He was spared from answering as she returned to the matter that had driven her over to his private corner of the ballroom.“By mother’s clear displeasure I take it that the rumors are in fact correct.”Geoffrey’s gaze sought and found his mother.She stood conversing with their gaunt, heavily wrinkled hostess, Lady Ainsworth.A black scowl marred his mother’s face.She held herself with such a stiff rigidity it was a wonder the wind that whipped against the windows didn’t topple her right there.“The rumors are correct.” His tone sounded weary to his own ears.He’d not have expected the sharp stab of guilt would sting this much.His mother had barely uttered a word to him since he’d very clearly stated his intentions to wed Abigail.Sophie’s smile dipped.Waxham cleared his throat.“It is never easy to deviate from the desires and wills of one’s parent,” he said.The gravity of his tone spoke of a man who could identify with Geoffrey’s secret shame.Waxham’s gaze settled momentarily upon his wife’s head.“But, matters of the heart should not be decided by logic and order.”Just then, at the entrance of the ballroom, Abigail appeared upon the arm of her cousin, Lord Westfield.Geoffrey’s breath hitched in his chest.Abigail’s violet satin skirts shimmered in the glow of the candlelit ballroom.An intricate floral design threaded with glimmering diamonds had been stitched upon the bodice of her gown.It drew his attention to the generous swell of her bosom and his mouth went dry.She had the look of Eve in the garden of sin, and how he longed to throw aside all that was proper and join her there.She scanned the ballroom, as though searching for someone, and then their gazes met and held.Abigail smiled, dipping her head in a subtle greeting.Geoffrey imagined he was grinning like a love-struck simpleton.But god help him, he wanted her.“Oh dear,” his sister said, shattering the pull.“You’ve fallen quite hard.”Waxham pat him in a commiserative gesture upon his shoulder.Geoffrey shook his head, and started toward Abigail.Yes.He’d fallen quite hard.***For the better part of the day, Abigail had wrested an impending sense of disaster.She’d credited the thundering skies for the odd apprehension that caused gooseflesh to dot her skin.The storm was the kind of storm that had shattered too many great ships at sea.The carriage bearing the duke, Robert, Beatrice, and Abigail had arrived a short while ago at Lord and Lady Ainsworth’s ball.The torrents of streaming rain and the deep puddles throughout the London streets had made their carriage ride a long one.Then they’d had to wait in an endless row of carriages until they’d reached the entrance of the townhouse, as everyone made a desperate attempt to shorten the distance between their carriages and the front door.Abigail’s gaze landed upon several ladies.They snapped their fans open, and over the rim of the satin accessories ran their eyes over Abigail in a manner that indicated they’d found her wanting.Then, they averted their stares with a pointed flourish.Her stomach roiled at the cut direct that had been so very familiar at home.The ugly reminder of her past only intensified her earlier misgivings.“Oh, my.I believe I was wrong,” her cousin murmured.Abigail forced aside the portentous musings.“Hmm?”“About Lord Redbrooke,” Beatrice clarified.“I never believed that particular gentleman capable of anything beyond stiff politeness.” Beatrice sighed.“I would trade my little finger to have a man look at me the way Lord Redbrooke is looking at you.”Abigail’s heart tripped at a funny little pace as Geoffrey’s long-legged stride closed the space between them.He stood taller than most gentlemen in the ballroom, making it easy for Abigail to follow his path.He navigated through the throng of guests with a masculine grace.In all the time Alexander Powers had courted her, he’d never looked at her in the hot, penetrating manner that Geoffrey now did.Geoffrey’s was the primeval gleam of a man who wanted to lay claim to her.And all her earlier reservations, her unfounded fears lifted as he stopped in front of her.She tilted her head back and her breath caught.Geoffrey studied her through thick, lowered lashes.She curtsied.“My lord.” Did that breathless greeting belong to her?He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.Even through the thin fabric of her glove, Geoffrey’s touch heated her skin, and sent warmth radiating out through her body.Just then, a harsh, bold laugh cut into the charged exchange, and she froze.Pinpricks of unease ran along her spine.Her gaze collided with a gentleman who stood just beyond Geoffrey’s shoulder.The foppish dandy, garishly dressed in violet, satin breeches had his lascivious stare trained upon her bosom.Abigail’s apprehension grew.“Miss Stone, may I have this dance?” Geoffrey’s request jolted her back to the moment.“I…”A shocked gasp cut into her reply, and yanked Abigail’s attention to a nearby stern-faced matron with a frown upon her fleshy cheeks.The woman raked a frigid gaze over Abigail’s person.“Abigail?” Geoffrey’s question reached her, muffled and vague the way she’d used to hear her mother and father’s calls from when she’d been submerged beneath the ocean’s surface.Oh, God.Abigail sent a prayer skyward.“Abby?” Beatrice’s voice laced with concern blended with Geoffrey’s.The pointed stares, and too-loud whispers carried her back to a different night, to the time she’d been discovered in Alexander’s arms, when her world had crumpled down around her.She shook her head
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