Tempting Miss Allender (Regency Rakes 3) by Wendy Vella Page A

to meet you.”
    “Has she?” Patience frowned. “Well, I have been with her most evenings, and as yet have not heard your name.”
    “If you will excuse us, Patience, I have just promised this dance to Mr. Stanhope. I shall see you later.” Lucy glared at Patience, obviously not happy with her response.
    “Of course, I shall find a seat should you need me.”
    “I won’t,” was the snapped reply.
    Sighing, Patience made her way to the edge of the crowd. This was her fourth night out this week, and she was exhausted, especially as she was used to rising early and had not adjusted to the late hour she retired.
    Avoiding Mathew had not been easy, either. It was like a constant game of cat and mouse. She always looked for him upon arriving at any social gathering, and then moved as far away from him as she could. Most evenings she had managed to avoid him, but on the few she had not, he had asked her to dance. When she refused, he had simply taken her arm and led her to the dance floor, and unless she wanted to make a scene, she had to comply. She was polite to him, but distant, believing this her best strategy for maintaining a divide between them.
    Being close to him, remembering the kiss they had shared was all playing a part in rekindling the feelings that had lain dormant inside her. She did not want to feel anything for him again. Liar! a voice inside her cried. You never stopped. Ruthlessly stomping on that thought, she knew she could not be his friend again. She knew that if she did, she would lose her heart once more, and if he turned away from her this time she would not recover.
    She had not told him all of the details about her disastrous debut and had lied when she said she had forgotten about it. She still felt the humiliation and pain, and was not completely sure she could move on from that. Then there was the matter of Anthony and that being with her reminded Mathew of the brother he was doing his best—if unsuccessfully—to forget. Did she want to spend time with a man who looked at her and saw the pain of memories of his past? No, dreaming of any kind of future with Mathew Belmont was futile and she must remember that.
    “May I have this dance, Miss Allender?”
    Bother. Had she been paying attention, she would have seen Mr. Dundrill coming toward her, but she had not, and it was Mathew Belmont’s fault. The man occupied far too many of her thoughts.
    “I had not thought to stand up this evening, sir.”
    “Nonsense. A woman with your beauty should not be confined to the edges of the room, my dear lady, but showcased on the dance floor.”
    Patience had felt sorry for this man when they’d first been introduced, but her sympathies had changed to annoyance on closer acquaintance. Mr. Dundrill was a man who believed himself a touch above everyone else, which was quite a feat, considering he dressed as he did. Not much taller than she, he had a round face, two small, beady eyes and a rotund body. Tonight’s lemon satin waistcoat was strained across his large stomach, the buttons close to popping. His coat was pale blue satin, his breeches matched, and his hair was styled so that two curls lay flat against his cheeks, making him look silly.
    “Come, now. Do not feel shy about it, my dear Miss Allender. Not many can compete for my attentions, but you, sweet lady, are one of them.”
    “I beg your pardon.” Patience looked into the man’s eyes to ensure he was not experiencing a moment of madness. “But I have no wish to compete for your attentions, nor anyone else’s for that matter. I am here merely as a chaperone, as I have told you repeatedly, Mr. Dundrill.”
    “My mother, you know,” he said, waving his hand about as if her words were of little consequence, “told me when I was old enough to understand that some may be unsettled by my magnificence.”
    Dear Lord, he was serious.
    “Now come along, dear. Do not be shy with me, as I foresee many such dances in our future. There is much