Free Dangerous to Love by Rexanne Becnel Page B

hussy.
    “Thank you for your offer,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Nonetheless, I believe Valerie will be more at ease in … in a less worldly sort of company than your own. Isn’t that right, Lady Westcott?”
    When she glanced at the countesss for confirmation, however, the older woman did not appear in the least perturbed. Poor Valerie was trembling in Lucy’s arms at so frank a discussion, but Lady Westcott seemed to care nothing at all for the girl’s reaction. Could it be that she wasn’t really worried about sparing Valerie a broken heart? Lucy suppressed a grimace. Could it be that the entire matter of her employment was a fraud, a deceit devised by the wily Lady Westcott to heighten Ivan’s interest in the lovely and innocent Valerie? And Lucy was set most uncomfortably right in the middle of it.
    When Lady Westcott finally responded it was with an airy wave of her hand. “Ivan is only flirting with her, Miss Drysdale. It behooves the child to learn to deflect such pleasant, but insincere, attentions.”
    Yes, it certainly did, Lucy wanted to reply. But she wisely kept that opinion to herself. And the fact was, she could not find it in her heart to blame the old woman. Lady Westcott only wanted her grandson well settled before she passed on. All in all, a reasonable enough desire. But Lucy knew instinctively that young Valerie was not at all the right sort of woman for Ivan. No, Valerie would be devoured whole by the likes of Ivan Thornton, and Lucy could not in good conscience allow that, no matter the unpleasantness that lay between Lady Westcott and her grandson.
    She’d been given this position ostensibly to help Valerie make an appropriate match. Despite Lady Westcott’s deception, Lucy decided she would put all her effort into doing just that. For no matter his title and fortune—and his ferocious good looks—Ivan Thornton was not the right man for Valerie.
    Staunch in her convictions, Lucy faced the earl. “It would be terribly un-Christian of me not to hope for the best for both you and Lady Valerie. I pray she will find the right sort of man for herself, just as I pray you will find the right sort of woman for yourself.”
    And they both knew what sort of woman that was!
    She stared straight at him, daring him with her eyes to say anything that would reveal the terrible depths of his depravity, to reveal the wicked behavior he had participated in during his last night at Westcott House. He could not, she knew, not if he meant to impress Valerie. Nor was he likely to declare his piousness, not with any degree of sincerity. So how would he answer her?
    What he did was smile at her, a slow, easy smile that managed to make of him the very image of male beauty. For a long breathless moment he forced her to see his raw virility, the essence of his masculinity that was both attractive and threatening to the feminine psyche, both fascinating and yet a terrible danger too.
    He unnerved her quite to the core.
    “You are a devout Christian, Miss Drysdale?”
    “Why … Why, of course. Of course I am. Aren’t you?” she added, hoping to turn the subject away from herself.
    That dark, seductive smile remained in place. “Not so devout as you, I’m certain.” Then he somehow seemed to draw back into himself and in the blink of an eye his focus shifted to Lady Valerie. “If I might be of some assistance?”
    He strode up to the two women and without so much as a by-your-leave, he freed Valerie’s hand from Lucy’s and drew the girl toward him. “Now, Lady Valerie, if it’s dancing you wish to practice, you’ll be better served dancing with someone who knows the male portion of the dance—no offense meant, Miss Drysdale. The same tune will suffice,” he added over his shoulder to his grandmother. Then without waiting for a response from either woman, he faced the still silent young girl, made her a very correct bow, and readied himself for the dance.
    Lucy glared at him, then turned