LITMIR.BIZ

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ahead and led them all in that direction.

      Majestic oak trees provided a bit of welcome shade and fewer people made the walking more pleasant, but it was the sight of two women coming their way that set Sebastian’s heart pounding in an irregular rhythm.

      Though they were still some distance away, Sebastian recognized them. It was the Earl of Hetfield’s daughters. Lady Bianca, the shorter of the two, was twirling a lacy pink parasol above her head that matched her walking dress. He concluded her wardrobe must have arrived, for the ensemble was of the latest fashion.

      Alas, Lady Eleanor’s clothes had not been made ready. She was wearing a heavy gown of russet brown more suited for a colder day and a country environment. It was such a sharp contrast to the light, spring dress her sister wore, one had to feel some sympathy for her. It must not be pleasant to always be cast in the shadow of a younger, far prettier sibling.

      Though he would have preferred to be alone, this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, the reason he had come to the park in the first place. Sebastian lifted the hand holding his horse’s reins and waved. Lady Bianca returned the wave with an enthusiastic one of her own. He saw Lady Eleanor’s back stiffen at the gesture and she closed her eyes briefly. He had not realized he had made such a strong impression on the sister. A strong, negative impression, judging by the grim set of her lips.

      Damn! Apparently tongues had started wagging and his reputation had preceded him. A fact he confirmed a few minutes later when they met on the pathway.

      There was not even the faintest suggestion of a smile on Lady Eleanor’s lips when she greeted him, though she did relax her frown when he introduced her to the Ellingham sisters. Lady Bianca was all smiles and enthusiasm, while Lady Eleanor remained polite but not overly friendly. And she continued to look at him as if he were the last person on earth she wanted to see.

      It was an odd feeling to be brought low by a plain-looking woman perilously close to becoming an old maid. Sebastian hastily reminded himself it didn’t matter. Bianca was his target.

      “Will you stroll with me, Lady Bianca?” Sebastian asked, deliberately ignoring the startled looks of the Ellingham sisters and the severe disapproval of Lady Eleanor.

      He offered his arm to her and with a shy smile she took it. They broke away from the pack and moved ahead, though Sebastian was careful to keep a respectable distance. He pulled his horse to the left so the animal walked on the grass, sparing the four women behind them the direct sight of the stallion’s hindquarters.

      “Isn’t it a lovely day?” Sebastian asked.

      “Yes, splendid. I was told it rains often in Town, but the weather has been quite nice since our arrival.”

      “Are you finding the amusements of London to your liking?” he inquired.

      “We have seen little of Town, but it has all been very grand.”

      “And what of the activities? Was there a particular soiree or party that you will claim as your favorite?”

      “They were all equally enjoyable.”

      Sebastian waited, an encouraging smile on his face. Lady Bianca shyly returned the smile, yet offered nothing else. That was it? That was all she was going to say? God help him, it was like pulling teeth.

      They walked for several minutes without saying anything, the topic of the weather and how she was enjoying Town life already exhausted. In Sebastian’s experience, prattling women were the norm—which he occasionally found amusing, yet more often an annoyance. It was, however, something he dealt with skillfully. Quiet was far more complicated.

      “Do you enjoy riding?” he asked, casting about for a topic many country girls longed to extol upon.

      “I do.” She looked at him inquiringly. “And you, my lord? Are you a keen rider?”

      Finally. Sebastian launched into a story about learning to ride when he was a youngster, embellishing parts with a self-deprecating humor that women always found irresistible. In no time at all Lady Bianca was clutching his arm reflexively as she giggled.

      The viscount was very pleased.

      “Your dress is lovely,” he purred in a velvety soft tone. “That particular shade of pink adds a rosy hue to your complexion.”

      “Thank you, my lord.”

      He turned his head to look fully at her and discovered she was already gazing at him. She bit her bottom lip nervously as their eyes met and he could not miss the genuine admiration that washed over her face. A thrilling sense of victory shot through him.

      This was almost too easy. A few honeyed words of flattery, a sultry glance, a seductive kiss and the girl would follow him anywhere. She would easily be led down the path to ruin, assuring Sebastian of his duel. And his revenge.

      The conversation continued and before long Sebastian came to a realization that Lady Bianca was precisely as she appeared—a young woman barely past girlhood. At first impression one might think she was a tad frivolous and empty-headed, but he decided she was not a simpleton. She was a simple girl, unspoiled, sweet, and innocent to a fault. After their dance last night he had assumed she was a country lass merely in the need of some Town bronze, but he could now see that she was completely guileless.

      A small breeze swirled through the air and he watched the way an amber-hued strand of hair teased her cheek. Yet instead of the familiar male stirring, Sebastian felt an odd sort of pang. She was so young. It somehow seemed wrong, almost depraved, to have any physical desire for her.

      They stopped to greet an acquaintance of his. The rest of the women used the opportunity to join them and Sebastian made the introductions. Walter Brommer was a pleasant enough fellow, an urbane, witty sort that females took to immediately. He was also an outrageous flirt and soon had all the women smiling at his over-the-top compliments.

      Sebastian glanced at the circle of females. Lady Bianca stood beside Emma and he could not help but compare the two. Lady Bianca was a year older than Emma, yet so much more unworldly.

      He reasoned the difference might be attributed to the fact that Emma had older sisters. But Lady Bianca had an older sister. Or perhaps being raised in the country was the cause, yet Emma had also grown up in a rural village, raised with her sisters by an aunt and uncle after her parents had died.

      It must be Emma’s artist’s eye that gave her a maturity beyond her years. That and her wicked sense of humor. Her clever tongue could keep any situation from becoming too dull.

      Sebastian continued to study Lady Bianca. Her beauty was without question, but her overt innocence was a distraction. He had never understood the appeal of an untutored, inexperienced female. The idea of trying to coax a kiss from her rosy, plump lips made him feel like a lecher of the worst kind. Yet he would have to at least kiss her in order to create the scandal.

      “Might I beg a moment of your time, my lord?”

      Sebastian glanced down at the gloved hand resting on his forearm, then up into the face of Lady Eleanor. Her features were void of any specific emotion, yet Sebastian sensed an undercurrent of anxiety. It made him wary, yet it would have been impossibly rude to refuse. They set themselves off to the side, away from the boisterous group.

      “Are you enjoying the afternoon, Lady Eleanor? Walking in the park, breathing in the fresh, crisp air? Or is it the society that interests you more than the grass and the trees?”

      Her expression grew wooden. Lady Eleanor, it appeared, was not a woman who appreciated small talk.

      “I am interested in you, my lord,” she said. “Or more specifically I am interested in discovering why a man of your years, reputation, and experience is being so attentive to my sister.”

      “Isn’t it obvious?”

      “Not to me.”

      Sebastian frowned. “You do your sister a disservice with that remark,” he said, with a tad more fervor than he intended. “Lady Bianca

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