The Incomparable Miss Compton Read Online Free PDF Page B

demanded. When he approached the lady of the second couple to do the same, he could not help but notice that she quailed under the frown that had evidently formed on his face. He managed a grimace that would have to pass for a smile and found himself back opposite the mysterious lady. He was rather glad to see that they had reached the end of the line of dancers and would be standing out for a round.
    “Forgive my impertinence, my lord,“ she said as they waited to rejoin the set. Her voice was deep for a woman, seductive, surprising, and his mind tumbled once more to the doxy theory. “I must thank you for not giving me away. It was most kind of you.”
    “I hope you plan to reward my kindness with an explanation,” he replied. She blushed again, and he found the effect even more charming. Was she some kind of sorceress that he could not focus on his intended interrogation?
    “I shall try, my lord,” she said. “You had just been introduced to Persephone Compton, I believe?”
    He frowned, toying with the idea that she was bent on usurping the lady in his affections. As he had not had time to form any affections, and she was not in the lady’s league in looks, he threw the idea off as preposterous. “Lord Prestwick had performed the introduction as you arrived,” he confirmed.
    “May I ask why you wished to be made known to her?” she persisted.
    His frown deepened. That ought to have been enough to cause the most ardent campaigner to desist, but she did not seem to be affected by it. “I am not in the habit of discussing my affairs with strangers, madam,” he said quellingly.
    She gazed at him. “I imagine you must get them to vote your way out of sheer intimidation,” she said wonderingly.
    Surprised, he could not think of an answer. Malcolm Breckonridge, speechless. His peers would laugh themselves sick. He was so appalled that the moment of silence stretched. As the dance ended, she dropped a curtsy, and he remembered himself and bowed.
    “Your servant, madam,“ he managed. “I wish you luck.”
    She laid a hand on his arm. “I fear I have been forward. Would you take a turn about the room with me, my lord, so that I might explain myself further?”
    Malcolm stared at her. He had given her a set down calculated in look and manner to quell the most pretentious upstart and she remained focused on her purpose. Could she be the woman he sought? She certainly had the courage to stand up to him. One could not have asked for a more queenly consort. It was too much to hope that she be intelligent as well. He decided it only made sense to investigate further.
    “Very well, madam,” he replied, offering her his arm. They began a slow promenade about the room.
    He had never paid much attention to Almack’s, remembering only that chairs were spaced around the room for those who wished to watch the dancing. He paid the people ogling him less attention now, focusing on the woman on his arm. She strolled beside him, offering an occasional smile to other couples similarly engaged, and glancing every so often toward the next set of dancers, which included the Incomparable Miss Compton, now partnering Lord Rupert Wells. They would have made a striking couple, except that she was pouting and he looked bored by the entire affair. The Duke of Reddington, Malcolm noticed, looked on from the edge of the dance floor with ill-disguised annoyance. Malcolm had thought when Prestwick had introduced him to Miss Persephone that the usually suave and sophisticated Reddington was besotted. He felt nothing but pity for the fellow.
    “I should start by introducing myself,” she said when he had began to wonder whether she would be silent after all. “I am Miss Sarah Compton, Persephone’s cousin and her chaperone for the Season.”
    Disappointment shot through him again. She was after a favor after all. “I see. You accosted me for the sole purpose of furthering your cousin’s case.”
    “Not in the slightest,” she assured