Jason jerked his gaze from her mouth. “Sorry.”

“You said we’re expected to engage in some sort of flirtation while we dance,” she reminded him teasingly. “I haven’t any experience with that at all—have you?”

“More than enough,” he replied, admiring the glowing color highlighting her cheekbones.

“Very well—go ahead and show me how it’s done.”

Startled at the invitation, Jason gazed down into her dark-lashed, laughing blue eyes and momentarily lost himself in them. Desire surged through his body and his arm automatically pulled her closer. “You don’t need lessons,” he murmured huskily. “You’re doing very well at it right now.”

“At what?”

Her obvious confusion restored Jason’s sanity and he relaxed his hold on her. “At getting yourself into a great deal more trouble than you ever bargained for.”

On the sidelines, young Lord Crowley raised his quizzing glass and inspected Lady Victoria from head to toe. “Exquisite,” he said to his friend. “Told you she was the moment we laid eyes on her, that day she arrived in Brook Street. I’ve never seen the equal to her. She’s divine. Heavenly. An angel.”

“A beauty, a true beauty!” young Lord Wiltshire agreed.

“If it weren’t for Wakefield, I’d court her myself,” said Crowley. “I’d lay siege to her defenses, battle off her other suitors, and then I’d give chase!”

“You could,” Lord Wiltshire stated drolly, “but in order to catch her, you’d need to be ten years older and twenty times richer. Although, from what I hear, the marriage thing isn’t entirely settled.”

“In that case, I mean to get an introduction to her tonight.”

“So do I,” Lord Wiltshire retorted challengingly, and they both hastened off in search of their respective mothers so that introductions could be properly procured.

For Victoria, the night was an unqualified success. She had feared that the rest of the ton would be much like Lady Kirby, but for the most part they seemed to welcome her into their exclusive ranks. In fact, some of them—particularly the gentlemen—were almost humorously effusive in their compliments and attentions. They surrounded her, requesting introductions and dances with her, then staying by her side, vying for her attention and asking for permission to call upon her. Victoria took none of it seriously, but she treated them all with impartial friendliness.

Occasionally, she caught glimpses of Jason and smiled fondly to herself. He looked breathtakingly handsome tonight in the raven black evening clothes that matched his hair and contrasted sharply with his snowy frilled shirt and flashing white smile. Beside him, other men seemed pale and insignificant.

Many other ladies thought so too, Victoria realized four hours later as she danced with yet another of her partners. Several of those ladies were flirting outrageously with him, despite the fact that he was supposedly betrothed to her. With secret compassion, she watched a beautiful, sultry blonde trying to hold his attention by gazing invitingly into his eyes while Jason stood with his shoulder propped negligently against a pillar, an expression of bored condescension on his tanned face.

Until tonight, Victoria had assumed he treated only her with that infuriating, mocking attitude, but she realized now that Jason seemed to treat all females with cool tolerance. No doubt this attitude was what Caroline meant when she said Jason was rude and ungentlemanly. Even so, the ladies were attracted to him like pretty moths to a dangerous flame. And why not, Victoria decided philosophically, watching him gently disengage his arm from the blonde’s hand and move toward Lord Collingwood. Jason was compellingly, irresistibly, magnetically . . . manly.

Robert Collingwood looked at Jason and nodded his head in the direction of Victoria’s beaux, who were clustered around Flossie Wilson awaiting Victoria’s return from the dance floor. “If you still intend to marry her off to someone else, Jason,” he said, “you won’t have long to wait. She’s just become the new rage.”

“Good,” Jason replied, glancing at the throng of Victoria’s beaux and dismissing them with a shrug.

Chapter Fourteen

Robert’s prediction about Victoria’s success turned out to be true. The day following her ball, twelve gentlemen and seven young ladies came to call upon Lady Victoria, pressing invitations on her and begging for a closer look at Wolf. Northrup was in his glory, ushering callers in and out of the salons and snapping Instructions at the footmen who carried tea trays into the various salons.

By the time supper was served at nine o’clock, Victoria was too exhausted to consider going to any of the evening’s balls and soirees she’d been invited to by her callers. She hadn’t gone to bed last night until nearly dawn and she could scarcely keep her eyes open as she picked idly at the dessert on her plate. Jason, on the other hand, looked as fresh and vital as usual, despite having worked in his study all afternoon.

“Victoria, you were a dazzling success last night,” he said, turning his attention from Charles to her. “It’s obvious Crowley and Wiltshire are already besotted with you. So is Lord Makepeace, and he is considered the season’s best catch.”

Her sleepy eyes filled with laughter. “That particular expression calls to mind a halibut!”

A moment later she excused herself to go up to bed. Jason bade her good night, a smile lingering on his lips at her quip. She could light up a room with her smile, albeit a sleepy one. Beneath her artless sophistication, there was sweetness and intelligence, too. He sipped his brandy, remembering how she had charmed the ton last night with her beauty and laughter. She had won over Northrup completely, by playing Mozart especially for him tonight. When she was finished, the elderly butler had tears in his eyes. She had followed that up by sending for O’Malley and playing a rousing Irish jig for him. By the end of it, a dozen servants had gathered outside the drawing room, loitering about in order to eavesdrop on her impromptu concert. Instead of ordering them to disperse and go about their duties—as Jason had been about to do— Victoria turned to them and asked if they had any special favorites she could play for them. She knew all their names; she asked about their health and their families. And tired though she obviously was, she kept up her performance at the piano for more than an hour.

All the servants were devoted to her, Jason realized. Footmen smiled and bent over backward to please her. Housemaids rushed to do her tiniest bidding. And Victoria thanked each of them prettily for every service they performed. She had a way with people; she could win over barons and butlers with equal ease—perhaps because she treated them both with the same sincere, smiling interest.