Free Enchanted Rendezvous: A Tangled Hearts Romance by Rebecca Ward Page A

persuaded that Colonel Howard cannot credit that a female has two thoughts to rub together, and there are many more like him in the world.”
    “If you could create your own world, what would it be like?” Dimly Cecily realized that Lord Brandon was also leaning against the edge of the balcony. He was so near that his coat sleeve brushed her bare arm as he said, “Come, pretend with me that we are a universe away from anyone else.”
    With a jolt of consternation, Cecily realized that she had been thinking that same thing. Sir Carolus’s guests had disappeared. Annoying memories of Colonel Howard and James Montworthy had become unimportant. All that remained was the flower-drenched night and the man by her side.
    “We must rejoin the others.” She had meant to say the words firmly, but they came out in a hen-hearted whisper.
    Brandon could feel her arm tremble against his, and when he turned to look down at her, he could discern the uncertain look in her eyes. The curve of her mouth made her appear vulnerable, and a fierce need to kiss that mouth rose in him. Though he reminded himself of the reason that had brought him to Dorset, his logic seemed to have taken French leave. In this magical instant nothing mattered more to Brandon than this girl beside him with moon-silver in her eyes.
    She
must
rejoin the others. Cecily had half turnedto go when she heard Lord Brandon say, “Don’t go, Celia.”
    Her startled eyes flew up to meet his, and at the look in his eyes her heart seemed to pause. It was incredible—impossible—that she wanted the effete Lord Brandon to kiss her, but this man did not seem to be Lord Brandon. It was as though a stranger, and yet not a stranger, stood beside her in the rose-scented night. When he took her hand, Cecily did not have the strength of mind to pull away.
    “Celia,” Lord Brandon murmured.
    Just then, a shadowy form came striding out of the French windows. It stopped short, and a startled male voice exclaimed, “Is someone else out here?”

Chapter Five
    L etting go of Cecily’s hand, Lord Brandon took several steps backward and collided painfully with the marble rail of the balcony. Meanwhile the intruder was apologizing, “Only wanted to blow a cloud. Talk in there’s as moldy as old cheese. No wish to disturb anybody. By Jove, no.”
    “You are not disturbin’ us,” Lord Brandon replied. “This lady felt faint and was takin’ the air. If you’re feelin’ restored, ma’am, shall we go in?”
    He offered Cecily his arm, but before she could take it, the newcomer exclaimed, “It
is
you, Brandon!”
    He seized Lord Brandon’s hand and began to pump it forcefully. “Thought so earlier but wasn’t sure. What are you doing here in Dorset?”
    “I could ask you the same thing, Jermayne. I thought you were in Portugal.”
    “Furlough, old man.” By a shaft of light that filtered through the open French windows, Cecily could see that the newcomer was tall and had a long face bisected by a drooping, sandy mustache.The scar on his cheek stood out starkly against his sun-darkened skin.
    “Boney’s quiet for the time being,” he continued, “so I’m rusticating.” He paused, coughed behind his fist, and made a jerky bow in Cecily’s direction. “Servant, ma’am,” he said shyly. “Didn’t mean to intrude. Hope you’re feeling more the thing. I’ll leave you now.”
    “Let me present you first. Miss Verving, this is Captain Allan Jermayne, of the Fourth Dragoon Guards.”
    The captain reiterated his jerky bow and professed himself to be Cecily’s most obedient. Then he said, “Happy to run into you, Brandon. Traveling through Dorset and stopped to see Sir Carolus. He was friends with my father in his school days. He insisted I stay for his party.”
    He sounded morose, and Lord Brandon asked languidly, “Not enjoyin’ the evenin’?”
    “Oh, God, no—beg pardon, ma’am. Hell—I don’t mean, that, neither,” the captain stammered. “More used to