"Too arrogant." She laughed. "Although I once heard it said that two of the attributes most desirable in a man are a little arrogance and the willingness to laugh."

"I think I laugh exceptionally well." He expertly maneuvered her around another couple. "When we return home, I should be happy to demonstrate some of my other skills."

"Oh, I am a fortunate woman."

"Yes, you are." His tone was matter-of-fact but his eyes twinkled. "No doubt the envy of every woman here."

"Well, this is a very nice gown."

He laughed.

"Which reminds me, I'm not at all sure I want you to dance with our hostess."

"Ah, well, I can understand that."

"Can you?"

"Indeed." He nodded. "Her gown is quite lovely as well. The latest fashion from France, I believe."

"Your sisters and I have you well trained. But I am not so shallow as to prefer you not dance with a lady because of her gown." She glanced at Lady Dunwell over Adrian's shoulder. "I don't like the way she looks at you. As if you were dessert and she is considering how very tasty you might be."

"I am exceptionally tasty."

"Yes, you are, but I am unwilling to share my dessert."

"Nor does this dessert wish to be shared." He grinned. "But Beryl Dunwell looks that way at every man."

"No, she doesn't," Evelyn said firmly. "You are the one who evaded her clutches. And she is not a woman to give up easily."

"Nonsense, she only turned her attention to me when Richard proved uninterested."

"Your sisters have told me she pursued you for several years."

"Unsuccessfully," he said firmly. "And then I met you and I was lost. Besides that was two years ago." He shrugged as best he could without a misstep. "She is now married to Dunwell, whose ambition suits her own."

"You are a better catch than Dunwell," she said.

"Yes, I am."

"You do realize there is such a thing as too much confidence?"

He chuckled.

"Women like her do not give up easily." She shook her head. "It's only been a mere two years."

He stared down at her. "Why, you're jealous, Evie."

"It is a lovely gown," she said in a lofty manner.

He laughed.

"Very well." She huffed. "I am always jealous, darling. You are a most accomplished man and quite handsome as well. Any woman would be ecstatic to have you."

"Ah, but you are the loveliest woman in the room. And I am the luckiest man."

"Yes." She met his gaze directly. "You are."

It was a joke between them, which was the luckier to have the other. Although in truth, she had always thought she was the lucky one, and no one knew that better than she did herself.

He laughed again and held her a bit tighter than was proper. Not that she minded. The music swelled around them, the whirl of dancers surrounded them, and it would all have been quite perfect. If only ...

She responded to his banter but her mind drifted. She had found Adrian at very nearly the perfect moment in her life. He had been precisely what she'd needed then and remained so to this day. She knew without question he loved her as she loved him. Still, if he knew what she had been, the things she had done, wouldn't that love be, at the very least, tarnished? At worst destroyed?

"I have been thinking of late ..."

He led her through another turn and she followed him without effort. Nonsense. Adrian, of all the people she knew, would understand duty and responsibility and loyalty. What he might not be able to understand was deception. Not that she had ever actually lied to him. Not in the strictest definition of the word. It was admittedly a fine point. One he might not agree with wholeheartedly. The man was the most forthright, honest person she'd ever met.

"A mistress for me perhaps and ..."

And they had both agreed their respective pasts were behind them. Still, his past consisted of amorous affairs and roguish living and all those sorts of behaviors second sons with too much time and money and few responsibilities tended to indulge in. Certainly, he had handled many of his family's business affairs for years as he had a head for such things and apparently Richard had not.

"A lover for you ..."

"Only fair," she said absently.

Still, he wasn't the heir, and from what she'd been told, he'd seen no need to behave as one. It had all changed, of course, when Richard died.

"I do think Lady Dunwell might ..."

But Adrian had more than lived up to expectations. Indeed, he had taken on the responsibilities of his position as if he, and not his older brother, had been the one destined for the t.i.tle. The music drew to a close and she barely noticed.

"We're agreed then."

"What?" She looked up at him.

He escorted her off the floor. "You haven't heard a word I said."

"Nonsense. I was listening quite closely. You said-" She stopped and stared. "What did you say?"

"I suggested that we might pursue new interests. Life has been rather dull of late. I was thinking a mistress, a lover." He shrugged. "That sort of thing."

"Adrian!" Shock coursed through her. "Surely you aren't serious?" At once his words popped into her head. "And Lady Dunwell? Why, I would shoot you myself before I would permit such a thing. Whatever are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking it's a sad state of affairs when a man can't command the attention of his own wife," he said wryly.

She narrowed her eyes. "You were teasing me."

He chuckled.

"It was not the least bit amusing."

"It was most amusing."

She sniffed. "Perhaps if you had named any woman other than Lady Dunwell, there might have been some humor in it."

"That was the best part." He accepted two gla.s.ses of champagne from a pa.s.sing waiter and handed her one. "You deserved it."

She raised a brow. "Because I was not paying attention to your every word?"

"Absolutely."

"You are an arrogant man, my lord."

"Confident." He grinned, then sobered. "You are preoccupied tonight and you are never preoccupied. I don't like it. It's disturbing."

"My apologies for disturbing you."

"I didn't mean it like that." He frowned. "But this isn't like you, and I confess I am a bit worried."

Her tone softened. "I'm certain it's the weather, Adrian. It's endless and dreary and spring is never going to come."

"Spring will come." His tone was matter-of-fact but his gaze searched hers. "It always does."

She smiled into eyes shadowed with concern. The man was most perceptive and he knew her entirely too well. She was a fool to think she could hide anything from him. Still, at the moment, it couldn't be helped. And it was time she stopped feeling pitiful and confronted the task at hand. The sooner she accomplished what was required of her, the sooner she could put the past firmly behind her forever. And banish that look of worry in her husband's eyes.

"You're right, of course. Although I do wish there were some way to hurry it along."

"The druids held rites to hurry spring." Adrian sipped his champagne. "Under the stars. Naked, I believe."

She stared at him. "That's nonsense."

"Not at all. The druids had all sorts of rites."

She scoffed. "Not naked."

"Not that we know." He shrugged. "However, there is little of accuracy known about the ancient peoples who once inhabited this land." He gazed over the ballroom as if he were looking into the long-distant past. "I like to think most of their ritual dances were undertaken without clothes."

"Adrian!"

"You would have made an excellent druid."

"Not in this weather," she murmured.

"Especially in this weather," he said firmly. "It wouldn't be worth it otherwise." He studied her in a thoughtful manner. "Perhaps, given how the weather has affected you of late, you should try it."

She raised a brow. "You're suggesting I dance naked under the stars? In London?"

"It is something to consider." He thought for a moment. "Admittedly, it might prove awkward with the neighbors, but I do know I would appreciate it. Although, on the roof ..."

"You are the most proper man I know, Adrian." She shook her head in a mournful manner. "And yet you have a decidedly wicked streak."

He cast her a most wicked smile.

She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. "I like it."

He sipped his wine. "I know."

She laughed. No, it would always be as wonderful between them as it was right now. She would make certain of it. As soon as she laid the past to rest. Still, as much as she was eager to find Dunwell's library, patience being a virtue she needed to cultivate, she couldn't appear too eager to leave her husband's side. They had barely arrived and there would be more than enough time to slip away later.

"Now then." She plucked his gla.s.s from his hand and pa.s.sed his gla.s.s and hers to a waiter. "I should very much like to be swept off my feet again."

"Here? In front of everyone?" He shook his head. "That would be most improper. And I do think our hosts would object." He paused. "If we were discovered. If not ..."

She laughed. "I was speaking of another dance, darling, and you well know it." She took his arm and led him back to the dance floor. He took her hand in his and she leaned close and spoke softly into his ear. "But later, I shall sweep you off your feet."

His brow rose. "And you claim I am the one with the wicked streak."

"We are well matched."

They danced two more sets, and while Evelyn now paid attention to every word her husband said, she also took the opportunity to study the ballroom. She'd been here once before but had no idea where the library was. In the past, she would have been provided with the plans for the house. No matter. It was simple enough to ask a servant for directions. Such a query wouldn't be considered unusual. Not that a servant would question a guest under any circ.u.mstances. But it was not at all uncommon, at a gathering of this size, for guests to wander from the ballroom, out of curiosity or in search of a moment of privacy or for a prearranged meeting for one purpose or another. If discovered, she would simply explain she was curious to see Lord Dunwell's collection as she had been told it was quite exceptional. Not that she knew what his lordship collected or indeed if he collected anything at all, but most gentlemen of her acquaintance did so. Why, even Adrian had a small but valuable collection of ancient Greek coins.

"Isn't that your cousin Portia?" she asked when the second dance drew to a close. She nodded toward the far side of the room. Portia's parents had died when she was very young and she'd been taken in by the Hadley-Att.w.a.ters. Adrian's mother considered Portia every bit as much her child as she did Adrian, his brothers, and his sisters.

Adrian nodded. "I wouldn't be at all surprised. No doubt Mother is here somewhere as well." He chuckled. "She does not give up easily."

He took her arm and they headed toward his cousin. Lady Waterston's determination to see each of her children happily wed was an ongoing topic of discussion within the family and most amusing to those siblings who were already married. The dowager countess had a list of who should be wed next and she concentrated her matchmaking efforts on that unfortunate child. Portia, widowed three years ago, was currently at the top of the list and had found it necessary to flee to Italy this past Christmas to escape her aunt's efforts.

Portia spotted them and waved.

They made their way toward her. Adrian leaned close to his wife and spoke softly. "Do you think she might have met someone in Italy?"

"Surely she would have mentioned something of that magnitude," Evelyn said. They'd seen Portia only once since her return, and that was at the wedding of Adrian's youngest brother, Sebastian. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason really. Just an odd impression I had when we last saw her."

"Portia has never been known for her ability to keep secrets."

"No, you're right." A thoughtful note sounded in Adrian's voice. "Portia would certainly have said something." He chuckled. "If only to keep Mother from introducing her to yet another eligible bachelor."

"Good evening, Adrian. Evelyn, how wonderful to see you." Portia kissed Evelyn's cheek and spoke low into her ear. "Save me."

Evelyn widened her eyes. "From what?"

A waiter handed them each a gla.s.s of champagne. Portia downed hers in scarcely more than a swallow. "Aunt Helena, of course." She turned to Adrian. "Your mother is in rare form tonight, Cousin. Every time I turn around, she is introducing me to yet another candidate for my hand. All of whom seem to think the way to my heart is by stepping on my feet and clutching me entirely too tightly in the guise of dancing." Portia lowered her voice in a confidential manner. "One more dance and I daresay I shall be crippled for life. As my favorite cousin, I beg of you to rescue me."

"Your favorite, you say?" He eyed her skeptically. "I thought Sebastian was your favorite?"

Portia huffed. "Sebastian is my favorite youngest male cousin. You are my favorite oldest male cousin."