Days Of Rakes And Roses. Anna Campbell

she fell in with her brother’s plans was her disgrace. Her brother’s machinations seemed half-cocked, which was odd—Cam rarely did anything without plotting long in advance.

      Lydia had no difficulty working out what Simon wanted from the scheme. To cause trouble. She read the old reckless enjoyment of mayhem in his glittering blue eyes as she faced him down with what she prayed was a dismissive expression. Nor was he averse to the idea of a flirtation; she’d been out in society for nine years, and immediately recognized that particular light in a gentleman’s glance.

      “May I request the pleasure of this dance?” Simon asked with a charming smile that had her on guard immediately.

      “I already have a partner,” she said coldly.

      “That’s me,” Cam pointed out cheerfully, interrupting his conversation with Grenville to prove that he’d always been alert to what Simon and Lydia said to each other. “Your brother is happy to step aside in favor of an old chum.”

      The most bizarre element of Cam’s conniving was that he flirted so heedlessly with scandal. Camden Rothermere always trod carefully, as if to prove that he was a man of unwavering principle and decorum, whatever the circumstances of his birth.

      Lydia’s glare branded her brother a traitor. She’d have plenty to say to him after the ball. He shrugged with a hint of apology that didn’t mollify her at all.

      Gritting her teeth and consigning all Derbyshire men to Hades, she turned to Grenville. At her side, she sensed Simon’s avid interest in her interactions with her fiancé. She fought back the urge to jab her childhood love with her elbow and tell him to take himself and his curiosity elsewhere. Preferably Outer Mongolia.

      “Grenville, we’ve hardly spoken a word to one another all evening. I’m sure Mr. Metcalf will renounce his claim.”

      “I’d hoped to discuss Grenville’s plans for the next session in the Commons.” With unlikely enthusiasm, Cam clapped his hand on Grenville’s stocky shoulder. No chance now to divert her betrothed, curse her brother’s stratagems.

      “My love, His Grace’s interest could be vital.” Grenville’s eyes brightened at the prospect of enlisting Cam’s political influence. Lydia had never deceived herself that at least part of her appeal to her fiancé was her kinship to a major powerbroker. “You go and enjoy yourself.”

      “In that case, this dance is mine.” Simon’s hand snaked out to circle her arm in a ruthless grip. Had she imagined that he’d become unnaturally still when Grenville called her his love? Surely she had. Simon had never been the jealous type. She couldn’t picture him getting het up about a woman he’d known a decade ago.

      Quickly her eyes raked the room. To her surprise, the reunion of rakish Simon Metcalf and punctilious Lydia Rothermere hadn’t created a stir. She had no wish to alter that state of affairs by making a scene, so with ill grace, she nodded. “Very well.”