An Unforgettable Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance
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Synopsis
Constantine Alington, Viscount Dyer, is handsome—and frugal. Con receives a pittance of an allowance and watching his funds carefully. While he enjoys attending ton affairs, he has decided not to become serious about marriage until he gains his earldom and financial freedom.
Miss Rowena Stanhope has a keen mind and no intentions of ever wedding. She would rather pursue her intellectual interests. Even though Polite Society turns up its nose at bluestockings, Rowena dresses frumpily and hides behind spectacles she doesn't need to avoid gaining any unwanted attention.
Fate leads to Rowena dancing the supper dance at a ball with Lord Dyer, and they share a heartfelt conversation, as well as a kiss neither of them can forget. They meet again months later at a house party, one which Con was not invited to, but now being an eligible earl, the hostess welcomes him with open arms.
Will Con convince Rowena to change her stance on never wedding—and make her his countess?
Find the answer in bestselling author Alexa Aston's An Unforgettable Kiss, the seventh book in Captivating Kisses.
Each book in Captivating Kisses is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order.
Series Order:
Book #1: An Unexpected Kiss
Book #2: An Impulsive Kiss
Book #3: An Innocent Kiss
Book #4: An Unforeseen Kiss
Book #5: An Enchanting Kiss
Book #6: An Urgent Kiss
Book #7: An Unforgettable Kiss
Book #8: A Promising Kiss
Book #9: A Possessive Kiss
Book #10: An Irresistible Kiss
Read in Kindle Unlimited!
Release date: April 2, 2026
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Print pages: 240
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An Unforgettable Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance
Alexa Aston
CHAPTER 1
London—July 1808
“Do we truly have to attend a wedding?” asked Viscount Samuel.
Rowena Stanhope looked at her father as a governess would a petulant child and responded, “Yes, Papa. And it is just not a wedding. It is the wedding of the Season. At least, according to the newspapers. Besides, many of your friends will be there.”
“Who is the couple? I cannot keep up with all the gossip.” He smiled benignly at her. “That is why I have you, my dear.”
“It is actually a double wedding ceremony,” she informed him. “Two brides and two grooms will be speaking their vows at St. George’s Church today.”
He frowned in disapproval. “I have never heard of such a thing.”
“The first bride is the Duke of Millbrooke’s sister, Lady Tia Worthington. She will marry the Earl of Merriman.”
Her father thought a moment. “Oh, the one who stammers. He made that awful scene at the card party we attended at Lady Swarthmore’s. Dreadful. Simply dreadful.”
Disappointment filled her. Though she loved her father, he was quick to judge others, as were so many members of Polite Society.
“You know as well as I do that Lord Balch and Lord Calley goaded Lord Merriman that evening. Their behavior was reprehensible. Yes, Lord Merriman stammered as a boy and did so that night, but he works very hard at keeping the stammer at bay. At least, that is what I am told. I have attended other events with him present, and I have yet to hear the earl misspeak.”
She and her aunt been present at the garden party a month ago, where Lord Merriman had made a very public proposal to Lady Tia. That afternoon’s events had seemingly changed the opinions of the ton regarding the earl and Lady Tia. Now, Lord Calley and Lord Balch were the black sheep, thrust from the bosom of Polite Society, while Lord Merriman and his betrothed were the new darlings.
“Who else will wed?” her father asked gruffly.
“Lord Merriman’s sister, Lady Delilah Drake, is the other bride. She will wed the Earl of Forsythe. I think it sweet the two siblings wish to marry at the same time.”
Her father said nothing, merely turning back to his newspaper. Rowena did likewise, motioning for a footman to pour more tea for her.
Usually, she was not much for attending weddings, but she had actually met and spoken with Lady Tia during the brief time the beauty was an outcast in Polite Society. Lady Tia, whose dance programme filled before anyone else’s in the ballroom, had been shunned. Not given the cut direct—since her brother was a duke—but she had been judged and found lacking by those who influenced the ton’s opinions. Rowena thought her courageous for standing up for Lord Merriman. She could have stayed home or even gone to the country and not returned until next Season. Instead, Lady Tia had remained in town and braved the wrath of Polite Society. She had taken her place amongst the wallflowers at a ball, where she had sat next to Rowena. The two had engaged in a very interesting conversation, and she found herself liking the formerly popular girl quite a bit.
She had almost invited her new acquaintance to attend the Literary Ladies Book Society, but she held off. Now that Lady Tia’s imagined sins had been forgiven by the ton and she wed Lord Merriman today, she doubted that the new countess would have much interest in joining Rowena’s little book club. It was composed of wallflowers such as herself, women who had an intellect and were not afraid to show it. Of course, by doing so, they were deemed unsuitable to wed, marked as bluestockings.
It did not matter to her. She had never held a desire to wed, much less have children. She had her hands full taking care of her father and his household. Besides, Papa usually left her to her own resources, and a husband would not have done the same. Rowena did everything to make herself unappealing to the bachelors of the ton, from wearing ill-fitting gowns to donning spectacles which she did not need. At five and twenty, she would be given access to her dowry, arranged in the marriage settlements between her parents long before her birth. At that point, she wished to retire from Polite Society and move back to Dorset. It was where her father’s country estate lay. They had not visited it in many years, but she loved the green beauty of Dorset, as well as being near the sea.
Papa never wished to go to Stanfield, it being the scene of where he had lost his young wife. Rowena’s mother had died two days after giving birth to her, and Papa had found he could not bear going through rooms without seeing his beloved wife’s presence. Because of that, they lived in town year-round, only occasionally leaving to visit friends at their country estates. Rowena had only been back to Stanfield three times in her life. The rest of the time, Papa’s tenants were cared for by her cousin Ollie, the only son of her late uncle, who served as their estate’s manager. Ollie was Papa’s heir apparent since Rowena was his only child.
Rowena finished her tea and closed her newspaper. Giving her father ample warning, she said, “We will be leaving in a quarter-hour, Papa. Be ready.”
He sighed. “I shall meet you in the foyer.”
She returned to her bedchamber to claim her reticule and don a bonnet. She knew she was not fashionably dressed. It would not matter. Hundreds would be in attendance at St. George’s today.
And not one eye would come to rest upon her.
An hour later, they were seated inside the Mayfair church they attended each Sunday. Rowena had been to weddings at St. George’s before, but she believed this one to be special. Simply from observing Lord Merriman and Lady Tia, she could tell they were a love match. The same could be said of Lady Delilah and Lord Forsythe. Love matches were rare within the ton. She herself had not truly believed in them until she had witnessed Lord Merriman’s emotional, heartfelt proposal to Lady Tia. Still, she found the idea of romantic love odd and was happy in her decision never to seek a husband, much less love.
The organist began to play, and the doors to St. George’s were opened. The guests all turned, watching Lady Delilah escorted down the aisle by the Duke of Reddington. Rowena knew that His Grace and Merriman were very close friends. Since Lady Delilah’s father was deceased—and the brother who would have escorted her to her groom was already waiting at the altar for his own bride—she thought it lovely that Reddington had stepped into the role to see Lady Delilah to her groom.
Then the Duke of Millbrooke started down the aisle with his sister on his arm. They made a striking pair, the duke tall and handsome with his chestnut hair, Lady Tia tall and willowy, her strawberry blond hair piled high atop her head. Red hair must run in the family because the other two Worthington siblings also possessed hair with shades of red. Lady Tia’s twin, Viscountess Cressley, had auburn hair, while her older sister, the Marchioness of Aldridge, possessed a magnificent head of copper tresses.
Her eyes followed Lady Tia and His Grace down the aisle. She saw the bride did not look at a single guest because her focus was on the groom who awaited her.
Rowena’s throat grew thick with unshed tears, and she thought it very unlike herself. She was most stoic in all situations and could not ever recall crying. Perhaps it was because she had been raised only by a father, one who was level-headed and rarely showed emotion himself. Papa had not known what to do with any child, much less a female one. Because of that, she had been brought up more as a son than daughter. He had taught her to ride and play cards. She had received a first-class education, with a male tutor living in instead of a governess. Rowena was fluent in French and Italian, and she could also write in Latin and Greek. She excelled at maths and was not only in charge of the household accounts and paying their servants, but she also read every report from Ollie regarding their tenants and the crops produced. It was she who replied to her cousin’s requests, not her father, and she was the de facto viscount in many aspects.
She did have a love for literature and history, also fostered by Papa. If she could do anything with her life, she wished she could be a don at Cambridge or Oxford and guide those university students as they read history. Being a woman, however, she would never be allowed to be a part of the academic community. She satisfied her urge to teach others by guiding her fellow bluestockings through the book society she had founded.
The wedding ceremony took a bit longer than usual, simply because there were two couples having to repeat their vows to one another. Knowing she would never be a bride herself had been something Rowena thought she had come to terms with, but seeing the joy on Lady Tia’s and Lady Delilah’s faces as they marched up the aisle on the arms of their new husbands gave her pause. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of such nonsense. She neither wanted nor needed a gentleman in her life. A husband would put her under his thumb and expect her to do his bidding. Rowena had a stubborn streak and the more she was told to do something, the more she resisted doing that very thing. She would trade marriage for her freedom to do as she pleased any day.
With the ceremony completed, she and her father left St. George’s, taking almost an hour to say their goodbyes to other guests. She found it a waste of time since they would see these very same people at social affairs throughout the remainder of the Season. At least tonight was a card party, something she shined at. In fact, she had partnered with Lord Merriman a few months ago at a card party. They had lost their match on the last hand of the game to Lady Tia and Lord Balch.
Though Rowena knew she would be amongst the last to gain a partner at cards this evening, most likely she would carry her partner because of her strategies and skill at cards.
Once they arrived home, she changed from the gown she had been wearing to a simpler, drab one. She removed the spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Sitting at her dressing table, she gazed into the mirror, thinking herself a bit pretty. She did not wish to attract any suitors, however, and used her wardrobe and the spectacles to hide behind. The spectacles were made of regular glass since her eyes needed no correction. Once she gained access to her dowry in three years’ time, she would throw them away and dress as she wished.
She looked forward to moving to a cottage near the sea on her father’s estate. Papa would be surprised when she left him, but she would hire a competent housekeeper to look after the household. Eventually, her cousin would take his uncle’s title. She had already spoken to Ollie, and he was willing to allow her to remain in the cottage as long as she wished.
It was close to time for her to leave again, and Rowena stopped by her father’s study, telling him she was heading to the bookshop. He mumbled a goodbye and most likely would not recall where she was five minutes from now.
Setting out on foot, she did not bother to take a maid as her chaperone, knowing she would be invisible on the streets. If anyone from Polite Society were out and about and recognized her, she was of so little interest that they would not even bother to gossip about her being unwed and unsupervised.
She arrived at Mr. Washington’s bookshop, which included a subscription library within it. The owner, like so many in his profession, adored books—and those who loved them. Because of that, he allowed Rowena and her small circle of friends to meet at his bookshop for their monthly meetings.
Going now to greet him, she said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Washington.”
“Why, good afternoon to you, Miss Stanhope. I hope you are doing well. By chance, did you have time to read Tristam Shandy, which I lent to you?”
She handed the Laurence Sterne book to him. “I most certainly did. You were absolutely right about it. Perhaps when you have some free time, we could discuss it together. Parson Yorick was quite an entertaining character.”
His eyes lit up. “I would appreciate hearing your comments, Miss Stanhope. Not many can make their way through it because of the number of times the author digresses, but satisfaction is guaranteed by the time a reader comes to its end.”
Mr. Washington glanced over her shoulder and then back to her. “I see two of your friends have already arrived.”
“Then I should join them. Thank you again for loaning Sterne’s book to me.”
She moved to the other side of the bookshop, which had a few chairs available, and joined Miss Tweedham and Lady Sarah.
“Were you at the wedding?” Miss Tweedham asked.
“Indeed, I was. Lady Tia and Lady Delilah made for two beautiful brides.”
Lady Sarah looked wistful. “I have heard that they are both in love with their new husbands. I thought it obvious by looking at them that the rumors are true. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be in love.”
Rowena doubted love would come to Lady Sarah. She was already on the shelf at six and twenty. Very plain of face. Still, she had an enticing dowry. At some point, a gentleman in need of that dowry would no doubt speak to Lady Sarah’s father and receive permission to wed her. Sadly for Lady Sarah, love would not be a part of that union.
Miss Tweedham sniffed. “I, for one, am not interested in marriage and have made that perfectly clear. I will grant that it was a lovely wedding, though.”
Miss Tweedham was her closest friend amongst the book society’s members. She, like Rowena, was a bluestocking, through and through. Miss Tweedham was average looking but possessed a keen intellect. She was also the fifth of five daughters, all of whom had very small dowries. Her four older sisters had all previously wed, and Miss Tweedham’s mother had high hopes this final daughter would, as well. This was her friend’s second Season, however, and it did not seem as if she had any prospects, the same as Rowena. The only difference between the pair was that Miss Tweedham hoped to one day wed, despite her voicing otherwise.
“Do we know if any of the others are coming today?” she asked.
Lady Sarah said, “I think it will just be the three of us today, Miss Stanhope.” She named three other members whom she had seen at today’s wedding, and they had all cried off coming to their meeting.
Miss Smythe rushed up. “Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not late. Have you begun the discussion?”
Of all the book society’s members, Miss Smythe rubbed Rowena the wrong way. Miss Smythe leaned more toward gossip than she did discussing the books they read. She was unpleasant to be around and seemed to have no other friends. Rowena had taken pity upon her and allowed Miss Smythe to join their group, but she doubted the woman ever read any of the books they chose to discuss. Her contributions to the group revolved around repeating comments others had made in a new way or asking irrelevant questions.
Still, Rowena placed a smile on her face. “No, you are right on time. It shall be the four of us today. Shall we begin?”
They took their seats, and she began her discussion of Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, consulting the notes she had brought along to help guide their time together. As usual, Miss Smythe contributed nothing. Lady Sarah did make a few good points, while Miss Tweedham showed the most insight into the book.
“I still am a bit vague on all the symbolism,” Lady Sarah admitted.
She bit back a smile and noticed Miss Tweedham did the same. Though Lady Sarah was an avid reader, she avoided newspapers and knew next to nothing about politics, which put her at a disadvantage. Swift’s satire was rife with political symbolism, and Rowena did not think flogging a dead horse would bring any more understanding to Lady Sarah.
“I think we have discussed Gulliver’s adventures enough. I wanted to share with you the novel we will take up next.”
“I hope it is not as boring as this one was,” Miss Smythe commented. “I plodded through it.”
“Of course, you did,” Rowena said, knowing the woman had most likely not cracked open the book—and the sarcasm in her tone would go over Miss Smythe’s head. “I think you will find next month’s choice to be unusual.”
“Please tell us it is not as thick as today’s selection,” Miss Smythe said.
“It is barely a hundred pages,” she told them. “The author is French. His name is Voltaire, and we will be reading Candide.”
“Oh, I already like the sound of it,” Miss Tweedham said. “Would you share something about it with us, Miss Stanhope?”
“Gladly,” she said, smiling at her friend. “It is a picaresque novel. Candide is known for being overly optimistic.”
“Does Mr. Washington have copies of it?” Lady Sarah asked. “If so, I will purchase one while I am here.”
“He does. I informed him of our next choice, and he has graciously held back copies for our group.”
The four went to the counter, where Mr. Washington sold them three copies, Rowena already having bought hers previously.
“A very important work of literature,” the bookshop owner said. “Miss Stanhope always makes wonderful choices for you ladies to read.”
Rowena bid them all goodbye after confirming with Miss Tweedham that she would be at tonight’s card party.
“I am hopeless at cards, but the hosts are friends of my parents,” her friend said. “I simply must attend.”
“Then I will see you tonight.”
“Tomorrow night’s ball will be the last event I will attend,” Miss Tweedham informed her. “Mama grows tired of town. And tired of my lack of prospects.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” she said. “I will miss your company.”
“I have run out of ballgowns, as well as prospects,” her friend told her.
She knew Miss Tweedham wore hand-me-down gowns from her various sisters, and though a modiste tried to tailor them to fit better and change their appearance somewhat, her friend was usually as poorly dressed as Rowena herself.
“There is always next year,” Rowena proclaimed brightly.
“I will read Candide and write to you regarding my thoughts,” Miss Tweedham promised.
They said their goodbyes, and she walked home. At least Papa did not push all kinds of suitors upon her. Selfishly, he seemed to like the fact that she had not wed and was able to care for him and his household.
Still, the remainder of the Season would be lonely without Miss Tweedham’s company.
CHAPTER 2
Constantine Alington, Viscount Dyer, dressed for tonight’s ball. He had no valet, so he had shaved himself and donned his black evening wear on his own.
He looked about the rooms he lived in, which seemed a bit forlorn ever since his cousin and best friend had moved out last year. Val’s father, the Duke of Millbrooke, had died, making Val the new duke. He had left their shared, rented rooms for his ducal townhouse and country estate. It was at Millvale that Val had meet Eden, who had since become the Duchess of Millbrooke, and provided Val with William, his heir.
While Con was pleased at the happy turn of events, he couldn’t help but feel his cousin had moved on. Val now had a wife and child and was head of the Worthington family. He also had access to unlimited wealth, while Con continued to live frugally. His own father, the Earl of Marley, was in excellent health, so Con did not expect to inherit for years to come. He and Val had made a pact that they would not look for a bride on the Marriage Mart until they had claimed their titles. It made sense. What woman would want to come and live in these dark, dusty rooms, especially on the pitiful quarterly allowance given to him?
Mama was to thank for his lack of funds. She was the true power in the Alington family. His kind-hearted father may have had the title, but Lady Marley ran the family and made decisions both large and small. Her word was law. She did not want Con becoming a lazy, worthless rake. While she did pay his tailoring bills, wanting him to appear fashionably dressed at events in Polite Society, he lived frugally the remainder of the time. Walking to many places to save the hansom cab fare. Not visiting gaming dens because he would not have the funds to pay off his debts if he lost.
At least his membership at White’s gave him a place to visit with his friends. He could read the newspapers there, saving on any subscriptions, and drink all the coffee he wished. Oftentimes, he dined at White’s for his evening meal since that, too, came with his membership. He did not mind living carefully. In truth, he had few needs.
Except for his growing need for companionship.
Female companionship, to be specific. He had plenty of men he was friendly with. In addition to Val, Con was also close to several of his sisters’ and cousins’ husbands. Julian, Marquess of Aldridge. Judson, Marquess of Huntsberry. Rupert, Viscount Cressley. Hugo, Earl of Merriman. He was just getting to know Lord Forsythe and the Duke of Reddington better. Both men were friends of Merriman’s and had joined his circle. Con also looked forward to making his sister Dru’s husband, Perry, a part of their group when the couple came to town next Season.
No, his group of friends was more than adequate. What he now wanted was what he saw amongst all those married men. They each carried an air of happiness which surrounded them. They were not only husbands to their wives, but best friends and lovers to those wives, as well. It stirred a bit of jealousy within him. He wanted that shared closeness.
Of course, what his friends had in common—and which he lacked—was a title. Con could not purse a woman of quality until he possessed that. For now, he tried to keep himself occupied with brief affairs with a variety of women, usually pretty widows. He knew he could be a bit of a flirt. The fact he was handsome and very willing to couple with a willing woman also was to his advantage. He was able to move from one lady’s bed to the next with no consequences.
But even he understood there was something lacking in his life. Especially with Val no longer a bachelor and living with him, Con grew lonely at times in his rooms. It had caused him to take to the streets, walking for hours, even heading toward Hyde Park and walking there. He wished he had the funds to stable a horse here in town, but that cost would be prohibitive. Instead, he carefully saved his coin and would rent a horse upon occasion.
What he wouldn’t give to be able to peruse the Marriage Mart this Season and find love for himself. Of course, others in the ton might laugh at him for seeking a love match, but Con had seen both his sisters make one, as well as all four of his Worthington cousins. He had witnessed the power of love and knew it existed. Yet he would never wish ill of his father. Papa, along with his aunt Agnes, mother to his Fulton cousins, were the two most popular members of their large family. The day Con lost his father would be a dark day, indeed.
For now, he needed to be happy with what he had. He might not be rich in material goods, but he had loving siblings and good friends.
He finished tying his cravat and set out for Lord and Lady Purlington’s townhouse. They were the host and hostess of tonight’s ball. The Season would conclude in another couple of weeks. He might as well enjoy the social whirl while he could. Tonight, he needed to seek out a Miss Rowena Stanhope, the daughter of Viscount Samuel. His cousin Tia, who had wed only yesterday, had asked him to do so as a favor to her. Tia had briefly made Miss Stanhope’s acquaintance and had liked the young lady so much that she hoped by Con dancing with her, that Miss Stanhope’s chances of escaping her time with the wallflowers might come to an end.
It was true. For all that he lacked in wealth, both Con and Val had always had the eye—and favor—of the ton. If he danced with this wallflower, other gentlemen would take notice and wonder what Con saw in her. It could lead to Miss Stanhope finding herself dancing quite a bit this evening, and her drawing room might actually become the home to a few suitors in it tomorrow afternoon. He could easily do this favor for Tia, whom he thought of more as a sister than the cousin she was.
The Purlington townhouse was crowded outside. He stopped to talk to a few others, everyone asking after Tia and Merriman.
“They should be present this evening,” he informed those who asked.
While Tia and Hugo had left yesterday’s wedding breakfast and gone to his townhouse for their wedding night, both had assured him they would attend tonight’s ball. Con had a feeling, though, that the couple would depart after the midnight buffet—if not before.
He joined the receiving line, which was considerably smaller than it had been for weeks. It seemed now that July had arrived, members of Polite Society had had their fill of social affairs, as well as the heat of London. The heat brought about the stench, making that much more noticeable. He usually ignored it since he lived in town most of the year. Though he would have liked to be at Marleyfield more, he did not wish to infringe upon his father, who enjoyed having a hand in running his estate. Con wouldn’t have known what to do with himself in the country with no duties to see to, and that caused him to remain in town.
Occasionally, he did go to visit one of his cousins in the country, but he avoided house parties like the plague, knowing they were hotbeds of sudden engagements. Perhaps he could visit with Dru and Perry once the Season came to an end. His sister was about to give birth sometime in the next couple of weeks. He would enjoy meeting his new nephew or niece. It would also give him a chance to visit with Lucy and Judson and their new babe, Elizabeth. Con envied his sisters, who had wed men who had estates close to one another in Surrey. Their cousin Ariadne also lived nearby. When Con inherited, he would be far away from his sisters, Marleyfield being in Somerset.
Reaching Lord and Lady Purlington, he greeted them. Lady Purlington eyed him with interest.
“We attended your cousin’s wedding yesterday, Lord Dyer,” the countess said. “I believe your two sisters are also wed. When might you consider taking the plunge into marriage?”
He laughed easily. “The parson’s mousetrap is not for me, Lady Purlington. At least not for several more years.”
“Bachelors are becoming scarce in town with so many weddings occurring,” she told him. “You must pay special attention to all the still available ladies, my lord. I do not want to see you ducking into the card room this evening.”
Always one willing to please a hostess, he said, “Very well, my lady. I shall make a point of dancing every set. Only because you asked it of me,” as he employed the smile that he knew made feminine hearts flutter.
Moving away from his hosts, he entered the ballroom. Right away, he saw his parents standing with Tia and Hugo, and so he made his way toward them.
“Good evening,” he greeted. “How are the newlyweds?”
“The newlyweds are here reluctantly,” Hugo told him. “I would have preferred staying home, but I did want Polite Society to see how happy my countess and I are with one another. We plan to make it an early evening, though.”
“Will you be around for the midnight buffet?” he asked. “If so, I thought I could ask Miss Stanhope for the supper dance, so that we could sup with you and Tia.”
“We might be here. We might not,” his cousin said, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Apparently, you have taken to the marriage bed, Tia,” he said, causing his mother to swat him with her fan.
“Dyer, watch what you say. You are in public. You would not wish to embarrass your cousin.”
“Were you embarrassed?” he asked Tia, who burst out laughing. “Where is everyone else?”
“Val and Eden are leaving in the morning for Millbrooke,” Tia told him. “They will take Mama with them. I am not certain if they plan to come to tonight’s ball. With the wedding now over, Lia and Rupert decided to return home today, as did Lucy and Judson. I am not certain if Ariadne and Julian will be here this evening.” She glanced around the ballroom. “I do not see Miss Stanhope yet. Be sure to look for her, Con. She is quite tall, with a slender frame and golden-brown hair.”
“And spectacles, you said,” he reminded her. “Not many wear them to balls, even if they need to, so I believe your Miss Stanhope will be easy for me to spy. In the meantime, our hostess has instructed me to dance every set since there seems to be a dearth of bachelors this evening.”
“Thank you, Con,” Tia said. “I appreciate you doing this favor for me.”
“For us,” Hugo added. “I quite like Miss Stanhope. I do hope she can find a husband.”
Con laughed. “Well, it certainly will not be me.”
He bid them and his parents farewell and set out, moving about the ballroom, signing a programme here and there. He had yet to see Miss Stanhope and wondered if she would even be in attendance tonight. Then he glanced at a group of women. The wallflowers. Some were incredibly shy. Others were plain of face. Still others had little or no dowry. All these things made this particular group of women unpopular. He knew a few bluestockings would be sprinkled amongst them and recalled that Tia had indicated that Miss Stanhope was one herself.
Then he spied a lady in a most inappropriate ballgown. The color was all wrong for her, and the fit of the gown poor. She wore spectacles and was speaking with another woman close to her age, one who was short, thin, and had mousy brown hair. Con made his way toward them.
As he arrived, the lady he believed to be Miss Stanhope was saying, “I do think that is exactly what Swift meant. Lilliput and Bleufuscu are made to resemble England and France. And the loathing evident between the low heels and high heels simply has to represent the Whigs and Tories.”
“But do you believe that Flimnap represents Walpole?” Con asked, referring to Sir Robert Walpole. “After all, Walpole was a Whig, and Swift’s relationship with Walpole was most turbulent.”
She looked up at him. “You have read Gulliver’s Travels, my lord?”
He frowned slightly. “I would think that apparent by my statement, my lady.”
“You are right,” she said apologetically. “I simply know of so few gentlemen who actually read. They say they do, but I find beyond what is reported in the gossip columns or horse racing results, most gentlemen do not have a particular fondness for reading.”
He smiled, knowing her statement to be true. “You are correct, Miss Stanhope.”
“You know me?” she asked, frowning slightly. “You leave me at a disadvantage.”
“Pardon me for not introducing myself. I am Lord Dyer, a cousin to Lady Tia. That is, Lady Merriman now. My cousin thinks highly of you, Miss Stanhope.”
Con took her hand and kissed it. He watched the blush tinge her cheeks. He also looked beyond the spectacles, seeing she had large, expressive brown eyes, rimmed in amber.
“I am flattered to hear of Lady Merriman’s high opinion of me.” She turned to her companion. “May I introduce Miss Tweedham, my lord?”
“Ah, Miss Tweedham. A pleasure to meet you, as well.” He also kissed her hand, causing the young lady to giggle.
Deciding he would help both of them, he said, “Might I engage both of you in a dance this evening?”
They both looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head.
“You wish to . . . dance with us, my lord?” Miss Stanhope managed to ask.
Clearly, these two were wallflowers who rarely got out onto the ballroom’s floor. “Yes, I do. That is, if you have any available slots on your dance cards.”
Quickly, Miss Tweedham thrust her programme at him. “Choose whichever set you would like, my lord.”
Biting back a smile, he signed her empty card and returned it to her.
“And yours, Miss Stanhope?”
Though she had appeared flummoxed, she had now regained her composure. Handing him her programme, she said, “Obviously, you have your pick, Lord Dyer. I am rarely engaged to dance.”
“Might I sign for the supper dance, my lady? If so, we could join Lord and Lady Merriman and sup with them afterward.”
Miss Stanhope smiled, a very engaging smile. “Please do so, my lord.”
Once he gave her programme back to her, he said, “I look forward to dancing with you both.”
He heard other nearby wallflowers begin tittering and bowed, escaping before any of them thought to pounce upon and beg him for a dance, as well.
Returning to Tia and Hugo, who now stood talking with Reddington, Ariadne, and Julian, he reported, “I have scheduled my dance with Miss Stanhope, as well as one with her friend, a Miss Tweedham.”
“Oh, dear,” Tia fretted. “I am sorry that occurred, Con.”
“No worries, Cousin. I am happy to dance with them both. I did request the supper dance from Miss Stanhope, however. I hope you and Hugo will be available to join us after it.”
“Plan on it,” Hugo told him. He looked to the others. “Would you care to join us?”
“We would be happy to do so,” Julian said, speaking for him and Ariadne. “Tonight is our last event to attend. We plan to leave for Aldridge Manor sometime tomorrow morning. It will be a nice way to say farewell.”
Reddington sighed. “I suppose I shall have to scrounge around and find a dance partner for supper then. Look for me, also.”
The duke set off, and Con went in search of his first partner of the evening, now committed to dance each number with a different lady. He knew better than to dance twice in one evening with any woman. Gossips of the ton were always looking for someone to talk about, and he refused to show interest in any particular lady in front of them.
As he danced the first dance, his mind kept drifting back to Miss Stanhope, however. It seemed she hid her attractiveness, deliberately choosing an unflattering ballgown. No woman with her intelligence would believe she looked good in the gown she wore. And she was very pretty if you looked beyond the gold spectacles.
Con found himself looking forward to the supper dance—and his time with the pretty wallflower.
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