More Than Charming Read Online Free PDF

think he’d dally with her? She would no doubt want an extended liaison and he was in no mind to make such an unspoken promise. He’d be lucky to escape with his manly parts intact.
    This was worse than the matrons trying to catch him for their daughters. He took himself out onto the terrace.
     
    *     *     *
     
    Catherine stood at one end of the room, admiring the arrangements. A talented orchestra played tunefully, and snatches of conversation and laughter could be heard above the music. Perhaps, then, the evening wouldn’t be so very terrible.
    She’d seen Lord Roberts soon after she’d arrived, with Lady Brookdale draped over him. She hadn’t expected him to be here. He hadn’t attended any of the parties of late, and she’d been certain tonight would be no different. The parties weren’t all he’d avoided, either. She’d felt keen disappointment when she’d arrived at her brother’s house two nights past and found he’d declined an invitation to dine. Surely that was due to her improper behavior at Lord Chester’s wedding.
    When Lady Brookdale approached her, she realized she’d been looking for another glimpse of Lord Roberts. Foolish girl.
    “Ah, that Roberts is a scoundrel,” Lady Brookdale said with a gleam in her eye.
    Catherine nodded absently, her eyes still searching the room for a glimpse of him.
    The woman settled herself beside Catherine and leaned closer to her. “Though not quite as delicious as Waltham, I would imagine. Eh, Catherine?”
    Catherine stiffened at the mention of her ex-fiancé. The look on the lady’s face, her lips curved in a sly grin, sent warning bells ringing in her head. “W-why do you say that?”
    “He and Lady Joan have only just arrived. Lord, he’s a handsome man, is he not?”
    Catherine saw Waltham poised in the entry to the ballroom then, his wife on his arm. Her shock gave way to contemplation. She’d thought him quite handsome, with his lean regal bearing and fair looks. But with Lord Roberts ever present in her mind, Waltham paled by comparison. Had she never noticed how slender Waltham was? How thin his fair hair? She wondered what she’d ever seen in him.
    Lady Joan, a friend of Catherine’s before her elopement, was a plain young woman with quite a large fortune. Catherine bore her no ill will at present, for judging by the discomfort evident on her pale face, she wasn’t enjoying her husband’s company this evening.
    “Hmm. Would you please excuse me, Lady Brookdale?”
    “Certainly, dear.” Lady Brookdale clicked her tongue. “No doubt you’re upset.”
    Catherine didn’t disagree with her, not aloud. How could she say she felt nothing but regret for wasting the past year mourning Lord Waltham’s loss?
     
    *     *     *
     
    James reentered the ballroom just after that bastard Waltham arrived. His eyes settled on Catherine, seated next to Lady Brookdale, and watched as Priscilla whispered something to her. Catherine had paled slightly then stood, obviously thinking to lose herself in the crowd. James, his hands in fists, strode purposefully toward her.
    “Catherine,” he said when he reached her side.
    She turned and gazed up at him in surprise. “Lord Roberts! I didn’t realize you were here.” She seemed to collect herself. “How nice to see you.”
    James felt that now-familiar spark pass between them and sought to keep it contained. He nodded curtly and attempted to keep his demeanor pleasant yet impersonal.
    He failed miserably when she arched a graceful brow at him.
    “I daresay you’ve nearly mastered that,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.
    “Mastered what?” he couldn’t help asking, feigning innocence.
    Catherine simply laughed, that husky sound he’d heard in his mind over the past few days.
    He returned her smile with one of his own. “I’ve known you too long to stand on ceremony, Catherine.”
    Her smile dimmed. “Lord Roberts, I—”
    “Perhaps you’ll honor me with a dance?” Before