Page 27 of A Story of Love

And yet he could not pull his eyes from her.

At the moment Miss Fontenot’s gaze was focused, like so many others in the ballroom, on Miss Demelza Pascoe, a woman so beautiful that it fairly robbed a person of breath.

Almost as startling as the girl’s beauty was the fact that she was dancing with Fast’s erstwhile chum, Bevil Norman, who was now the Earl of Moreland.

How could Bevil possibly be courting so soon after Louisa’s death? Was he really finished mourning her so soon?

But then Louisa hadn’t given Bevil an heir, had she? And Fast knew that Bevil would set great store by such a thing.

Although he had not spoken to his old friend since returning to England, he suspected that Bevil—who’d been something of an impoverished social outcast when he, Fast, and Percy were at Eton together—was fiendishly proud of his unexpected elevation to an earldom. He would not be content to allow the title to pass out of his hands to some distant cousin just because he did not have a son. Bevil would marry again and it seemed that he was determined to choose a wife who had many fertile years ahead of her.

And then there was the fact that the Pascoechit was an heiress. Fast had heard rumors that Bevil was in debt and desperately needed money. Like so many others, Bevil had wildly invested in the Exchange these past few years and had come out a loser.

Regardless of his need for an heir or money, it irked Fast that Bevil could even think of another wife when Louisa had been dead barely a year.

Louisa.

All three of them—Percy, Fast, and Bevil—had made fools of themselves chasing after Louisa. Louisa hadn’t just been lovely—a diamond of the first water—she’d been kind, clever, and witty. She had been everything.

And Bevil Norman—Fast’s impoverished friend—had been the lucky man who’d married her.

Fast knew that his twin had deeply loved Louisa. But had Bevil? Or had he only wanted her because of what she would bring to him: status and a sizeable dowry?

And now he was courting another wealthy beauty. Like Louisa, Miss Pascoewas a diamond of the first water. But Louisa had been the same age as the three of them while Miss Pascoewas a mere child. Even in a ballroom filled with very young women she was notable for the purity she seemed to radiate.

Bevil Norman’s wooing of such a young girl was more than a little revolting.

Somebody should stop the man, but it wouldn’t be Mr. Pasco. The industrialist had made no secret of the fact that he was willing to trade his daughter for the grandest title.

Fast smiled to himself; the heir to a marquessate bested a mere earl, didn’t he?

Not pausing to examine his actions too closely, he strode to where the Pascoe chit held court under the watchful gaze of her chaperone, Lady Sarah Jowett.

He elbowed his way through the flock of cockerels posturing for Miss Pascoe and presented himself to her chaperone.

A delighted expression flickered over Sarah’s handsome face. “What a lovely surprise to see you here tonight, Lord Severn. It has been a long, long time.”

Fast cocked an eyebrow. “Lord Severn, Sarah? Is that how you greet your long-lost cousin?”

She laughed. “Are we cousins? I thought the relationship was a bit more tenuous than that.”

He grinned and bowed over her hand, scandalously kissing the inside of her wrist and earning another throaty chuckle. “I’m delighted to see a friendly and familiar face.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and lowered his voice. “I was terribly sorry to hear about Benedict. He was a good man.”

“Thank you, Fast. That he was,” she agreed quietly, quickly shaking away her grief and smiling. “I daresay I know why you are here.” Her sharp blue eyes slid to her charge.

“You mean other than saying hello to you?”

“Yes. Other than that.” She chuckled and said to the angel beside her, “Demi, this is Lord Severn, a dear, dear cousin of mine—several times removed. He was the first person I danced with in my debut Season.”

“I didn’t think you remembered,” Fast said. He certainly hadn’t, but he kept that to himself. He turned to Sarah’s charge. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Pascoe,” Fast bowed over the younger woman’s hand with considerably more formality than he’d done with Sarah.

The girl—for that is what she was—dropped a graceful curtsey and dimpled up at him. “It is an honor, Lord Severn.”

She had a sweet, soft voice and eyes that were the same shade of blue as Caribbean waters. She was every bit as stunning up close as she’d been from across the room.

And she was far, far too young and innocent for Bevil.

“Is it too much to hope that you might have a dance free for me, Miss Pascoe?”