it.
Odette finally reached the Ladies Lounge and Powder Room. Fortunately it was empty. She leaned heavily against the wall and closed her eyes. Her mind was awhirl. Odell and tequila didn’t mix.
Odette walked over to the large vanity with its art deco mirror and sat down on a cushioned stool. She picked up a warm, moist towelette from the steamer rack and pressed it to her temples.
“Are you alright, Odette?
She looked up startled and was relieved to see Lady Amelia, the Duchess of Montagu’s youngest daughter, walking toward her. “I’m fine… perhaps just celebrating a little too much. Thank you.”
Amelia sat down next to her. She looked nothing like her mother. She was fragile and small-boned like her father, the Duke. He was a diminutive yet extremely powerful member of the peerage. He and Adelphia made an odd pair. But rumors were their marriage was quite the passionate affair. Odette hoped it was true. She would want nothing less for Adelphia.
“Father and I saw only the first act, but it was brilliant,” she enthused. “Mother was so very pleased.”
“I’m glad.”
“We had to leave at intermission.” She made a little face. “Frances Cartwright was throwing a soirée at the water gardens. You’d think with the entire gardens at our disposal it would have been tolerable, but it was a terrible squeeze.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” Odette hated chatting about the ton and their frivolities but didn’t want to offend Lady Amelia. “From what I understand Miss Cartwright is the Toast of the Season.”
“Oh, she is very beautiful.” Amelia looked around furtively and lowered her voice, “But not very nice.” She glanced at Odette’s pale face and blushed painfully. “How stupid of me! Why should you care? Mother always says it’s the height of conceit to think everyone’s interested in the doings of the nobility. You look done in. Shall I get you a glass of water?”
Seeing her embarrassment, Odette smiled and patted her hand. “Really, my lady, I’m fine. And I’m never averse to hearing some idle gossip.”
Amelia smiled back at her. “Well, it was such a crush that Frances got up a group of us and left her own party to come here.”
Ah, thought Odette, so that’s what had caused the stir earlier, Frances Cartwright and her set. Certainly the Beauty of the season would set tongues wagging wherever she went.
Odette stood up. “Thank you for keeping me company, but I must get back to my brother.”
Amelia stood as well. “Your brother is here? Dr. Odell Speex?”
Odette noted the sudden interest and smiled inwardly. “Why, yes. He brought me here to celebrate after the performance.”
“Oh.” She smiled tremulously. “I saw him speak last fall. He’s quite brilliant. But I’ve never met him.”
“Would you like me to introduce you? We are seated just across from the dance floor.”
“Oh no, I really shouldn’t intru—”
“It is no intrusion. I assure you.” Odette linked arms with the nervous young woman and exited the lounge.
They had barely gone five steps when a familiar broad chest blocked her path. “Odette, I think that dress is a code violation.”
She looked up the long length of the man in front of her and met the eyes of the Earl of Westchester. They were dark and heavily lashed. It appeared as if nature had gifted him natural eyeliner.
Really, a man this vile shouldn’t have such lovely eyes.
“I believe I’m showing far less skin than most of the women here.” She countered as lightly as she could. From the corner of her eye she saw Odell walking casually toward them.
Drake smiled seductively. “It’s not what you’re showing, but what we all expect to see at any moment and don’t… a brilliant, yet frustrating design. You must compliment your friend Miss Mills for me.”
“You are mistaken. This is an Emile LaRoche design.”
Real amusement lit his face. “Ah, right, a LaRoche.”
“Lord Westchester.” Odell stopped beside
Odette finally reached the Ladies Lounge and Powder Room. Fortunately it was empty. She leaned heavily against the wall and closed her eyes. Her mind was awhirl. Odell and tequila didn’t mix.
Odette walked over to the large vanity with its art deco mirror and sat down on a cushioned stool. She picked up a warm, moist towelette from the steamer rack and pressed it to her temples.
“Are you alright, Odette?
She looked up startled and was relieved to see Lady Amelia, the Duchess of Montagu’s youngest daughter, walking toward her. “I’m fine… perhaps just celebrating a little too much. Thank you.”
Amelia sat down next to her. She looked nothing like her mother. She was fragile and small-boned like her father, the Duke. He was a diminutive yet extremely powerful member of the peerage. He and Adelphia made an odd pair. But rumors were their marriage was quite the passionate affair. Odette hoped it was true. She would want nothing less for Adelphia.
“Father and I saw only the first act, but it was brilliant,” she enthused. “Mother was so very pleased.”
“I’m glad.”
“We had to leave at intermission.” She made a little face. “Frances Cartwright was throwing a soirée at the water gardens. You’d think with the entire gardens at our disposal it would have been tolerable, but it was a terrible squeeze.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” Odette hated chatting about the ton and their frivolities but didn’t want to offend Lady Amelia. “From what I understand Miss Cartwright is the Toast of the Season.”
“Oh, she is very beautiful.” Amelia looked around furtively and lowered her voice, “But not very nice.” She glanced at Odette’s pale face and blushed painfully. “How stupid of me! Why should you care? Mother always says it’s the height of conceit to think everyone’s interested in the doings of the nobility. You look done in. Shall I get you a glass of water?”
Seeing her embarrassment, Odette smiled and patted her hand. “Really, my lady, I’m fine. And I’m never averse to hearing some idle gossip.”
Amelia smiled back at her. “Well, it was such a crush that Frances got up a group of us and left her own party to come here.”
Ah, thought Odette, so that’s what had caused the stir earlier, Frances Cartwright and her set. Certainly the Beauty of the season would set tongues wagging wherever she went.
Odette stood up. “Thank you for keeping me company, but I must get back to my brother.”
Amelia stood as well. “Your brother is here? Dr. Odell Speex?”
Odette noted the sudden interest and smiled inwardly. “Why, yes. He brought me here to celebrate after the performance.”
“Oh.” She smiled tremulously. “I saw him speak last fall. He’s quite brilliant. But I’ve never met him.”
“Would you like me to introduce you? We are seated just across from the dance floor.”
“Oh no, I really shouldn’t intru—”
“It is no intrusion. I assure you.” Odette linked arms with the nervous young woman and exited the lounge.
They had barely gone five steps when a familiar broad chest blocked her path. “Odette, I think that dress is a code violation.”
She looked up the long length of the man in front of her and met the eyes of the Earl of Westchester. They were dark and heavily lashed. It appeared as if nature had gifted him natural eyeliner.
Really, a man this vile shouldn’t have such lovely eyes.
“I believe I’m showing far less skin than most of the women here.” She countered as lightly as she could. From the corner of her eye she saw Odell walking casually toward them.
Drake smiled seductively. “It’s not what you’re showing, but what we all expect to see at any moment and don’t… a brilliant, yet frustrating design. You must compliment your friend Miss Mills for me.”
“You are mistaken. This is an Emile LaRoche design.”
Real amusement lit his face. “Ah, right, a LaRoche.”
“Lord Westchester.” Odell stopped beside
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