Read Silk and Scandal for Free Online

smile despite the haughty allure she wore like a mantle of steel. She trembled in his arms and every instinct he possessed told him she felt the attraction that simmered between them.
    Darlington approached her soon after and Nicholas watched from afar wondering how she would receive the other man’s attention. The negating movement of her head pleased his sense of competition and when Darlington took himself off to other prey, Nicholas smiled outright. Of a certainty, he hadn’t given up, and Nicholas admitted to himself that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
    Certainly, he must marry and soon, but there was no reason to obliterate challenge from this courtship. Besting his old friend would be almost as invigorating as winning the hand of the lovely Lady Eliza.
    Both Potter and Bentley were taking a turn round the floor and, for just a moment, Nicholas enjoyed shutting out the dull roar of the crowd and lost himself in thought.
    Tonight upon his return home, he might send out his man, Rawlins, and discover the Grayson address. Perhaps, needing a bit of adventure, he might take on the task himself; spy out her friends and acquaintances, learn her interests and pursuits. Like it or not, he would call within the week in an effort to draw her out. His birthday drew close and he had no time to waste.
    Deciding that further study Tonight would be futile, he turned, intending to head toward the game rooms where men were wont to gamble. A low hush halted his steps as a slow murmur rumbled through the crowd. Groups began to separate like the parting of the Red Sea and though others still danced and talked, it was as if everything tumbled into slow motion. Words, names came to him on whispers.
    “Murderer.”
    “Stanhope.”
    “How dare he show his face!”
    These whisperings alerted him to the fact the man was neither liked nor wanted in this gathering of the elite. Working his way to a better view, Nicholas watched with narrowed eyes. The man was trouble; that was a certainty.
    Edward Huntley, Lord Stanhope, stumbled through the doors and onto the dance floor like a man possessed. There was no finesse in his movements and the cane he wielded caused party goers step out of his path. It was obvious the man was well in his cups and obviously enraged.
    The crowd, hushed and waiting for the advent of gossip, watched, eyes gleaming with speculation as he halted mere steps from Lady Eliza Grayson. Her entourage, all young, frightened mice, backed away from their heroine.
    Nicholas moved slowly forward, never taking his eyes from the enfolding tableau. Though he barely knew her, pride soared within him at the sight of her cool manner.
    Her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed; her nostrils flared slightly, as if offended by an odious smell. Straight and tall, apparently unshaken by the scene, she stared down the man as he stopped before her.
    “Bitch,” he screamed piteously. “Daughter of a whoreson! Dare you show your face after the slander you’ve shown me?” Spittle formed in the corners of his down-turned mouth as he railed obscenities to the shocked awe of the assemblage. “Because of your filthy mouth, I cannot show my face in polite society. You should be beaten soundly; yea, whipped within an inch of your life.”
    Nicholas’s eyes burned into the man’s mottled face as he advanced. This was a ballroom. This was polite society and this was a Lady. Already he felt possessive of the woman and in his mind, Eliza was his.
    The hushed crowd impeded Nicholas’s progress, but since he towered over most everyone, his view wasn’t hampered. Eliza’s lips tightened as she listened and despite his need to protect, he was impressed with her coolness.
    “I did not murder your sister,” Stanhope cried. “She was a clumsy twit who couldn’t put one foot in front of the other without falling. Clumsy and stupid.”
    The crowd gasped at the untoward display but Edward Huntley appeared unfazed as he leaned closer, almost