The Virgin and the Viscount (Lords of Vice #4) - Robyn DeHart Page 0,4
a pickpocket on the streets of London with nothing more than her parasol, but approaching Viscount Glenbrook left her feeling paralyzed with nerves? It wouldn’t even be that difficult to locate him. He had an uncanny ability to pop up wherever her friend Agnes was. Tilly couldn’t even blame him—Agnes’s beauty was unequaled. Although, now that Agnes was betrothed to the Earl of Westbrook—no, that wasn’t right. Now he was the Marquess of Longley, since his father passed away. In any case, Agnes and Glenbrook were friends despite her recent engagement. And she knew Sullivan was here. She’d seen him while she’d been dancing with his brother.
So when Tilly began to search the ballroom, she wasn’t overly surprised to find Glenbrook standing near Agnes. Nerves or not, she needed to do this. She gave herself a stern talking to, reminding herself that this, like any other task she’d been given within the Ladies of Virtue, was her responsibility. She’d made vows, and this was her duty.
It was time. She’d wasted enough on being nervous and whatever else was keeping her from confronting him. The man needed a good talking to, and she was precisely the woman to give it to him. Without another thought, she crossed the ballroom to reach his side. She greeted her friends, Agnes and Harriet, and their gentlemen.
Despite the fact that her sister was married to his brother and that they saw each other periodically at family events, things between her and Sullivan were strained. It had been years. Ever since that fateful night when she’d inadvertently told him her greatest secret. As far as she knew, he’d never told anyone about the night she’d foolishly poured her heart out to him believing he was Thomas.
She glanced up at Sullivan, met his dark chocolate gaze, and something warm unfurled in her belly. Indigestion, most likely. His arrogance was indeed nauseating. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, my lord?”
One perfectly groomed brow arched upward. “You wish to dance?” He tapped his chest. “With me?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. She deliberately kept her eyes on him instead of looking at her friends and their, no doubt, shocked expressions. She rarely spoke to Sullivan, and when she did, she found it difficult to be kind. He made her nervous. One might think that would make her exceedingly cautious and overly friendly to him, but it had the opposite effect with her. He was too handsome, that was part of the problem. Experience had taught her, on many occasions, that the beautiful people of the world were typically self-centered and selfish. As a result, she found it hard to trust any interaction with him. any attention he paid to her was suspect—and he always seemed to pay her more attention than was strictly polite. Teasing her had become a pastime for him, and while Agnes claimed it was done in fun, Tilly couldn’t help but feel it was mean-spirited.
The fact that he blatantly stared at her and called her that offensive nickname only made matters worse. There was no telling what thoughts scurried through his mind as he looked upon her. She knew she was no beauty. She wasn’t ugly, per se. In fact, she had many attractive features, but all mixed together none of them seemed to match, which just left her looking…odd. Too tall, too freckled, eyes too big, hair a strange shade that was neither wholly brown nor red, and a gap between her front teeth.
His brown eyes traveled the length of her. No doubt he found her lacking. A fact that did not disturb her in the least. After all, if her lack of beauty disturbed him, she found his lack of moral fortitude equally disturbing.
Despite that, she felt every instant of his perusal as if he had run his hands along her body instead of merely his gaze. The vile man.
Her cheeks flushed in response as he held his arm out to her. “I would love to dance with you.”
Oh, how she wished she could have confronted him without dancing with him!
Nevertheless, a dance was the simplest way for them to converse privately, so she slipped her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow. He led her to the dance floor.
Despite the closeness of their families, it had been years since she had danced with him and she generally avoided his presence whenever possible. Walking beside him now, she found the sheer physicality of him slightly overwhelming.