Barely a Master by Heather Boyd

Author:Heather Boyd [Boyd, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: LLD Press
Published: 2011-10-03T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Terrance took a long draw on his cheroot and blew a near perfect smoke ring into the still night air. This was a pleasure he seldom indulged in, masquerading as an aristocrat out on the town. But the temptation to attend the Henderson annual ball had been too great to ignore.

While society parties might be by invitation only, the larger ones, such as Henderson’s, were easy to investigate. No one cared to question a man on his way back from the privy. No one raised a single eyebrow. All Terrance needed to do was jump the wall of the rear garden discreetly, casually smoke a cheroot as if he had all the time in the world, and then slowly join the party as if he were merely returning to the festivities.

He bounded up the terrace steps of the brightly lit great house as if he were eager to see friends. Although many admired him—he’d dressed with particular care so as to blend—no one prevented him from passing into the ballroom.

Just like every other occasion when he’d come here—home to his father’s house.

A wave of heat battered his face and the cacophony of music and raised voices assaulted his ears. A smile teased his lips. This was what he loved about London. People. He loved being surrounded by boisterous society. To find out their secrets and vices. To peer beneath the polite layers to see the machinations of ambition beneath.

Although society would never ever know who he was, he kept track of certain individuals that amused him. Lady Russell held court in her scandalous way, all but undressing the gentleman standing across from her with just her eyes. Soon she would seduce the poor fool and add another idiot to her list of many conquests.

But where was the Earl of Danbury? Henderson’s crony was sure to be invited to this sort of event. The crowd shifted, and Terrance was filled with glee. There he was. Short—squat almost—and dancing attendance on a girl half his age yet again. The girl turned and his breath ceased. Not Amelia. Not ever. Terrance eased through the crowd until he had a clearer view and a better chance at eavesdropping.

“Oh, Danbury, you are a tease,” Lady Henderson gushed. “Of course, Amelia would dance with you. Come, my dear, show the earl your card. I’m sure you have a waltz free.”

Amelia Dunwoody, Henderson’s youngest daughter, dithered with her hands behind her back, clearly reluctant to hand the card over. She’d grown up nicely since he’d last laid eyes on her, peeking glimpses at a previous ball before she was allowed out in society. Nice, quiet, and gentle as a lamb—Amelia deserved better than dancing with a lecherous old earl.

Quick as a wink, Terrance snagged the dance card from her fumbling grip as he passed behind her back. He hurried to tuck the card into his breast pocket before he was noticed just as he came face to face with another woman. The stunning blonde quirked an

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