A Winter Scandal Read Online Free PDF

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    Morecombe’s brows went up just a little, but he said nothing, only offered her his arm. Thea put her hand on his arm, praying that he would not feel the trembling in her fingers, and walked with him toward the dance floor. It made her a trifle breathless to be this close to him. She could feel the warmth of his body and smell the trace of cologne that clung to him, tinged with a hint of brandy and smoke. She imagined him in the smoking room with his friends, a glass of brandy in one hand, bringing a cigar to his lips with the other. Thea wondered if his lips would taste of tobacco and alcohol, too, and she blushed yet again at the wayward turn her thoughts had taken.
    “You might give me back my fan,” she told him crossly.
    He chuckled and flipped the fan in his hand, catching it neatly by the other end. “Oh, no, I think I shall hold it hostage.”
    “Hostage! For what?” She glanced at him, frowning.
    “A smile, I should think.” He cocked a brow impudently at her. “I fear that will be the only way I shall gain one from you.”
    He was even more handsome up close, impossible as it seemed. His lashes were thick and black, deepening those already dark eyes until they seemed fathomless, yet light glittered in them, making them spark with life. Something coiled deep inside Thea, warm and twisting, and she had to look away. “Don’t be absurd.”
    “You see? Already I have offended you.” He let out a mock sigh as he handed back her fan.
    “You haven’t offended me. You simply talk nonsense.”
    “But isn’t that what we are supposed to talk?” Gabriel grinned. “Everyone does at a party.”
    “I can’t imagine why anyone wishes to go to them, then.” Thea kept her voice tart even though his grin did even more peculiar things to her insides.
    “I am sure we should not if we were all so serious. But a little nonsense can make the time pass pleasantly, especially if it can make a lady smile. Come, Miss Bainbridge, cannot I wrest even one small token of appreciation for saving your fan?”
    “For saving me from the ignominy of being a wallflower, you mean.” She cast a sharp sideways glance at him and caught the surprise that flickered across his face. “Come, Mr. Morecombe, surely you don’t think I am naïve enough not to realize that you were pressed into service by Lady Fenstone to make sure all the young women had a chance to take to the floor.”
    “Clearly you don’t know me well, Miss Bainbridge, for I am rarely pressed into anything. It is one of my many faults, as I’m sure a number of people would be happy to tell you.”
    “You did not ask Lady Fenstone to introduce us,” Thea said flatly. She was not sure why she was pressing the matter, but somehow it was important to her pride to let him know that she was undeceived about his act of courtesy.
    He cast a long look at her, then said, “No, I did not.” He paused. “But neither did I hesitate.”
    Thea looked away, not sure what to say. Fortunately, they had reached the dance floor, making it unnecessary to speak. She took her place in line across from him, relieved to see that they would be participating in a country dance rather than one of the waltzes that had become all the rage in London. Veronica had learned the waltz, of course, and insisted on teaching it to her sister, but it was still considered a bit scandalous in the country, so Thea had never actually danced one before. At least she had stood up at a County Assembly a time or two in a country dance so she would hopefully not disgrace herself.
    She was also grateful because the dance was both too active and too intricate to allow for conversation between her and her partner. Thea concentrated on executing the proper steps and tried to look at Morecombe as little as possible. Unlike her, he moved with ease through the steps, which Thea found irritating. What was even more annoying was that whenever she glanced over at him, she felt that same little flutter of