Not Proper Enough (A Reforming the Scoundrels Romance) Read Online Free Page A

When Hester did not reply, he said, “Am I too late? Are you free for any?”
    “I should hate to break my streak, my lord.”
    He lifted his eyebrows in a query. “What would that be?”
    “The number of consecutive dances I’ve sat out.” She spoke with such serenity that Eugenia held her breath, expecting Fenris would misunderstand. “I’m at five right now, and my record is seven.” She leaned in and, in a confidential tone, said, “I’ve high hopes of reaching eight.”
    Fenris said nothing. Taken aback? Appalled by Hester’s dry wit? Eugenia swore she’d kick the man in the shins, but then he looked Hester in the eye and said, “Mr. Dinwitty Lane has wagered you won’t be asked to dance. I do not wish for him to win that wager.”
    “You’ve asked. Ergo, Mr. Lane has lost.”
    Fenris bowed, only slightly but enough for others to take note of his interest. “The proof would be in you actually dancing.”
    “A fine point, if you ask me,” Hester said.
    “Most wagers rest upon a finer point than that.” He looked over his shoulder at the couples lining up. “Will you?”
    He was fully capable of playing a deeper and more sinister game than Lane, and that possibility could not be discounted. While Eugenia debated the wisdom of encouraging Hester to dance with Fenris, Hester put her worries to rest.
    “I think not.”
    His austere expression lightened. “Why? If I might inquire.”
    “I had rather not be danced with for a wager.” She was completely earnest, as if the decision to dance or not were for her nothing more than an intellectual consideration. A mere calculus with no emotion involved.
    Eugenia tried not to beam her approval, but Hester turning down Fenris—really, could anything be more deliciously awful for him?
    “No, my lord,” Hester said. “I had rather wait for someone to have a more usual reason for asking me to dance.”
    Eugenia saw no sign, yet, that Fenris was angry or insulted. Indeed, he looked bemused.
    “Your beauty? Your lovely smile?”
    Eugenia narrowed her eyes at Fenris. She hadn’t imagined Fenris’s glance at Hester’s bosom. But was there a dig there, an insult implied about her looks? To her astonishment and consternation, she had to conclude that no, he had come about as close as any man to making Hester a compliment.
    “Mm.” Hester tipped her head to one side. “Those would be a more usual reason; you’re correct in that. But I was thinking of my modest fortune.”
    “Were you?” Fenris grinned, and while he did that, his gaze swept over Hester. “I assure you I would dance with you for reasons that have nothing to do with wagers or modest fortunes.”
    Good God. The man was flirting. Flirting with Hester!
    “Until then,” Hester went on, “I am happy to be here, watching the ladies in their beautiful gowns and jewels. And the gentlemen, too. So elegant. I do enjoy watching the gentlemen.”
    Dinwitty Lane was now nearly upon them, his dogs in tow. “Please.” Fenris held out his hand again. “Dance with me? So that I may do all that I can to make you smile at me.”
    “I don’t care, you know,” Hester said evenly. “What men like Mr. Lane say or do. ‘Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury…’”
    “‘Signifying nothing.’” Fenris cocked his head. “You ought not care. I, however, do. It’s a fault of mine.”
    Lane and the others stopped within arm’s reach of Fenris. He ignored them. Eugenia couldn’t decide where to look, at Lane and his hateful friends, for she quite hated them now, or at Fenris, who was giving the performance of his life. He could have made a living on the stage, he was that convincing in portraying himself as kind and thoughtful.
    Lane put a hand over his heart and shook his head. “Is this possible?”
    His query caused instant silence for a radius of some ten feet. Lane removed his gloves with an awful deliberation. He slapped them against his open palm to a collective intake of breath. The half