Lady of Pleasure by Delilah Marvelle Page B

direction the woman had pointed.
    A tall, broad-shouldered blond gentleman in full evening attire lingered in the distance.
    Her heart skidded. It was none other than Caldwell talking to her brother and a few other men. Caldwell leaned in listening intently to the conversation being offered him as several of the men, including her brother. Caldwell laughed in response to whatever was being said, the deep sound floating toward her. His rugged face brightened as he rumbled something out, his mouth quirking between words.
    She stared longingly at him.
    Black, thigh-hugging trousers tapered narrowly down the length of his long, muscled legs toward a pair of polished, black lacquered shoes. His black evening coat was expensive and emphasized his broad shoulders beautifully and his starched white cravat was knotted and arranged meticulously, as always. He looked like a flawless gentlemen who owned the world as opposed to the humble gentlemen who she knew struggled to survive.
    To those who didn’t truly know him, including her own brother, he exuded a rakish persona. Caldwell had played that role with her for many years until that day in the receiving room three years earlier when he gave her his coin for safekeeping and unveiled a man who struggled to keep his head high. From that moment, she had cherished knowing he had finally shared who he really was.
    She swallowed as he excused himself from his conversation with her brother and the group he was with. Glancing toward her, he jerked to a halt and stared.
    Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears. Had he truly asked to see her in the alcove?
    He smoothed his cravat against his throat and slowly inclined his head toward her, intently holding her gaze with his smoky dark eyes.
    Was it possible that he…?
    Averting his gaze, he quickly wove his way out of the crowds in the opposite direction from where she stood and disappeared into the corridor outside of the ballroom, into the gallery and beyond.
    Toward the direction of the alcoves that were all out of sight.
    Her heart almost flopped to the floor knowing the message had been authentic, after all. He was waiting for her. Heaven on high.
    Quickly rounding a couple in her way, Caroline veered in close to her mother and tried to remain calm. “Might I speak with you for a moment?”
    Her mother turned away from the direction of the dance floor she was watching, her features brightening at seeing her. “Of course, dear. What is it?”
    Caroline lowered her voice. “Caldwell asked that I join him for a small while in one of the alcoves well outside of the ballroom. Might I?”
    Her mother’s green eyes sharpened as she brought her fan up to her lips, to cover their conversation. “People will talk.”
    “I won’t be gone long. Nor will I let anyone see us together. I promise.”
    Her mother sighed. “Ten minutes. Anything more and I will hunt you down.”
    Caroline gave her mother a gushing smile. “Thank you, Mama.” She bustled past her and everyone else, no longer caring about formalities.
    This was her night. She could feel it.
    Curving around several couples, she wove toward the very back of the ballroom and out into the vast, candlelit corridor. She paused, spying Caldwell striding toward the end of the corridor. He slipped behind a red velvet curtain leading into one of several secluded alcoves.
    It rustled into place as if he had never been.
    Glancing around, to ensure no one was watching, and noting that there were no footmen positioned against any of the walls, she hurried down the corridor. Toward the alcove Ronan had disappeared into. She paused one last time to confirm she was indeed alone and let out a breath. Pulling aside the heavy curtain just enough to slip through, she quickly disappeared inside, letting it fall closed, and edged into the small space leading to a row of French windows that reflected the moonless dark night beyond.
    Seeing Caldwell leaning against the brocaded wall alone, she veered in close to