Free In the Night by Kathryn Smith Page B

him back, but she wasn’t about to tell her sister that.
    “Has he kissed you yet?”
    “Minerva!” Moira cast a quick glance around them to make certain no one was listening. “That is entirely improper of you and none of your business!”
    Her eyes wide, Minnie hid a chuckle behind her hand. All traces of jealousy now seemed to be eaten away by youthful curiosity. “He has! How was it? Is he as delicious as he looks?”
    Moira would have cheerfully strangled her sister were it not for the crowd and the trembling in her limbs. How could she be so transparent?
    “I am so jealous,” Minnie admitted with a rueful shake of her dark head. “You have snared the attention of the one man I thought of as a challenge.”
    Oh, to be young and stupid. “A challenge does not necessarily mean the man is worth the effort, Minnie.”
    Her sister arched a thin brow. “Somehow, I do not think you mean Mr. Ryland when you say that. Of course, he hasn’t been a challenge for you, has he? Oh well. Since you have snagged him, I must find someone else to amuse me. What about Sir David?”
    “Yorke, the baronet?” Moira gave a little nod. “A very nice young man from a good family. I have never heard a harsh word about him.”
    “So he’s boring, you mean.”
    “So he is the kind of gentleman who will treat you well. Either that or he’s just been smart enough to never get caught at any mischief.”
    The surprised grin Minnie flashed her made Moira smile in return. “Why do you not investigate him for yourself?”
    “I think I might.” With a swish of her dark blue skirts, Minnie glided toward the unsuspecting baronet. Poor young man.
    “I hope your sister did not leave on my account.”
    Moira’s smile became a little guarded as she looked up into eyes so blue they seemed black. If at all possible, he was even more handsome under the glow of the chandeliers than he had been under the silver light of the moon.
    “My sister never does anything on any account but her own, but thank you for your concern.”
    He tilted his head. “Concern? Hardly. I was just being polite. Frankly I’m glad she’s gone. I do not want to share you.”
    She should chastise him for that—it was her sister he was talking about after all—but Moira couldn’t do anything but preen.
    “Your mulled wine, my lady.”
    She took the delicate crystal cup he offered her. Through the thin silk of her gloves she could feel the warmth of the fragrant drink. The smell of wine and cinnamon filled her head, making her close her eyes in sheer pleasure.
    He watched her intently. “You make me envy food whenever we are together, Lady Aubourn.”
    “Am I paying more attention to my drink than you, Mr. Ryland?” Was she flirting? That cheeky smile certainly felt like flirting.
    He leaned closer. She could smell the warm, spicy scent of his cologne. “Perhaps, but I envy it more for the fact that it will touch your lips many more times than I will this evening.”
    Oh! There were those shivers down her spine again. “But no more potently, sir.” That was flirting. Odd, she never thought she knew how to flirt. Wynthrope Ryland seemed to draw it naturally from her.
    His eyes changed as they stared at her. She knew there was no way they could darken any more, but they seemed to do so anyway. A strange inner light seemed to glow from within him, shining through that unreadable gaze.
    How many layers did this man have? Most people werepretty much as they appeared to be, but not Wynthrope Ryland. He flirted and strutted around like cock of the yard, but that wasn’t him at all. He was just as affected by their game as she was, and he had infinitely more experience with this kind of thing than she.
    “I want to kiss you again.”
    His voice was so honey-smooth, it made her mouth water. She looked away. “You mustn’t talk like that. Someone might hear you.”
    “And you have a reputation to protect.”
    Was that mockery in his velvety tone? Raising her gaze,