Free Lady Catherin'es Scandalous Christmas by Maggi Andersen Page A

on another man in the group.
He wore his dark evening clothes well.
    He turned and looked her way, and their eyes
met. She took a deep breath.
    Marina raised delicate eyebrows. “Someone you
wish to meet?”
    “I’ve heard interesting things about the new
member of Lord Liverpool’s government, Gerard Renton, Earl of
Berwick.”
    Maria nodded. “A most interesting man. A
member of the rural landowning aristocracy. His country seat is
Berwick Hall in Yorkshire. A handsome fellow, is he not? He’s come
recently from the bar, and his reputation as an advocate precedes
him.”
    Catherine’s gaze returned to him where he
stood at Liverpool’s elbow. His abundant dark-brown hair curled
over his broad brow. His strong jaw might have made him look
severe, but for his mouth, which was full-lipped and suggested
warmth and humor. “Is he married?”
    Marina gave her an assessing look. “No, he
prefers to remain single for the moment, and many ladies in the
ballroom would like to try to change his mind. Shall I introduce
you?”
    “Heavens, no.” Catherine looked away, but
could not deny she found him attractive. “Now, who is here
tonight?”
    During the evening, Catherine chatted to
friends, danced, and sipped champagne. True to form, Marina had
delectable Christmas fare served on silver platters, and mulled
wine was offered, although in the close confines of the packed
ballroom, no one needed warming up tonight.
    Returning from a quadrille, Catherine saw
Lord Berwick and Maria cross the floor toward her. After Marina
performed the introductions, she excused herself gracefully and
left them alone. Catherine hoped Marina hadn’t orchestrated this
meeting.
    Her question was answered immediately.
Chocolate-brown eyes fringed with black lashes smiled into hers. “I
asked Lady Marina to introduce us. I believe the next dance is a
waltz. Would you care to dance, Lady Bellingham?”
    At his husky baritone, her heart fluttered.
Silly as a young girl, she thought, admonishing herself. Lord
Berwick was years younger than she was. Up close, he was even more
attractive, his dark eyes flecked with amber and his smooth olive
skin stretched over high cheekbones.
    “Delighted, my lord.” She took his arm and
they joined the dancers on the floor as the musicians began to play
Mozart.
    “Have you enjoyed the evening?”
    “Yes, I always enjoy Lady Marina’s
balls.”
    “I intended to ask you to waltz from the
moment you walked into the ballroom, but I’ve been caught up.”
    Catherine’s
pulse quickened, but she batted the comment away with a smile. “Do
you say that to all your dance partners, my lord?”
    “Only you.”
    “Why only me?” she asked with a quizzical
smile.
    There was something lazily seductive in his
look. “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
    She had received fulsome compliments before
and generally mistrusted them. “Thank you, my lord, but there are
many lovely women here tonight.”
    “None that can hold a candle to you,” he said
with quiet emphasis.
    Politicians could sound so convincing, and
she didn’t believe it for one moment. But he was charming.
Catherine tried to remain indifferent to the warmth and strength of
his arms—and failed—as he swept her across the dance floor. She
hadn’t been blind to flirtation through the years of her marriage,
or since, but she had always resisted carrying things further.
    Glancing up into his face, she searched his
warm eyes and found an intensity in his gaze, that she couldn’t
help responding to as desire flooded through her.
    Determined not to let this become a
flirtation, Catherine employed the best way she’d discovered in the
past to dampen a man’s ardor. Most men, she’d found, were more than
delighted to talk about themselves. “You were at the bar until
recently, my lord. What made you decide to enter politics?”
    “A need to do more for my country. It might
seem somewhat facile, but I assure you it’s the