The Wedding Chase Read Online Free Page A

flash of golden fire illuminated her large sea-blue almond-shaped eyes.
    “Charmed, Miss Fleetwood.” He held on to her long, slender fingers, his eyes capturing hers. “Your playing tonight was superb, and how brave to play the daring Herr Beethoven.”
    “Brave, my lord?”
    He focused his gaze on the laughter barely contained by her full lips. Did she think him a prude, offended by her ardent rendition of Beethoven? No, her embarrassment had fled at the mention of Wolfgang’s name—turning to amusement. But what right had she to laugh with a name like Grizelda?
    “Miss Fleetwood, you need not stifle that giggle.” He lowered his thick eyebrows in his best fierce look. “My name has always been sorely abused. I hoped that one of your musical nature would have more compassion.”
    “My lord, please excuse my rudeness.” The glint in hereyes held no contrition. “But you see, I suffer also from the curse of Mozart. My second name is Amadea.”
    His mouth twitched and spread open in a wide grin he knew exposed that annoying boyish dimple. He clasped her hand again. The covering of smooth, cool kid thwarted direct contact, but he was rewarded by the return of that touch of color to her pale high cheek bones.
    “We are destined to become the best of friends.” As his thumb grazed over her palm, her color deepened. “We are blessed with the love of music and cursed with a name made for jest.”
    Lady Selby took Zel’s arm, pinning Wolfgang with a protective glare. “You must reprimand Northcliffe severely when he becomes too familiar. He is a most incorrigible, ah, flirt, you know.” She pulled more forcefully on Zel’s arm. “Come along, dear, we must introduce you to the other guests.”
    Wolfgang flashed a ghost of a bow. “Miss Fleetwood, we
will
speak again.”
    Lady Selby steered her away from him as if she were a green debutante. Certainly she was well into her twenties, too old to be considered an innocent needing to be spared a little flirtation, even from such a known rakehell as he.
    His eyes moved lazily over her departing figure. Her ill-fitting, hideous gown made a nearly effective disguise, but after the view of her in her night rail, his practiced eye could see the very appropriately placed curves and infinitely long limbs that moved with feline grace. Her scraggly chignon, pale complexion, and wire-rimmed spectacles made it equally difficult to ascertain the charms of her countenance. But he had seen her glow as she played Beethoven, and he had seen the flash in her eyes when she concealed her laughter.
    There was a mystery here. Why would an unmarried woman fail to capitalize on her beauty? Unless she had no interest in dangling after a husband. Perhaps the intriguingMiss Fleetwood remained a miss because she had no more interest in marriage than he. This house party could certainly be enlivened by a little flirtation. Or more than a flirtation if the impassioned pianoforte recital correctly reflected her other inclinations.
    Zel took a steadying breath as Lady Selby drew her across the room. She was unused to the company of men, except for her family, and Lord Northcliffe’s presence overpowered her, to say the least. It was not just his size, although that was considerable, nor his piercing silver eyes, nor his long sensual face. He had an air about him … something uncompromising and untamed.
    She shook her head to clear her thoughts. He was not the type of man to suit her purposes, but his forward manner confused her. Her face heated again. He had looked at her as he had that night in her upstairs hall, when she had worn nothing but her night rail. She should coquettishly rap him with her fan as she had seen more sophisticated women do, or, better yet, discourage any fancy he may have for her by slapping his handsome, insolent face. Zel nearly laughed aloud at her conceit. A man such as he would have no real interest in her, but perhaps she could practice some flirtation with him,