The Thrill of the Chase

Chapter 1The Long Room Assembly Bayshill Spa, Cheltenham 1813 Adrian suffered a sharp pang of disquiet as he regarded the gallant on the opposite side of the small assembly room that was the epitome of every urbane quality he lacked. The man’s height and distinctive appearance attracted admiring attention as his birthright while he chatted idly with a middle-aged acquaintance. Although biased, Adrian had to admit his appearance could not be harshly criticized. He looked exactly what he was, a respectable young man of country stock, comfortable means, and a modest sense of style. Despite this, he was absurdly conscious of a slight, youthful appearance and coloring that was not in the height of fashion. Apart from regular cropping to keep it under control, he could not do much to tame his hair that tended to a natural curl and had a distinctive copper hue. During his childhood and even now, his mama sighed over how such luxuriant tresses were wasted on a boy and would be the crowning glory for any girl. However, she conceded the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, between those wide-spaced hazel eyes, would be a handicap for a young lady and would need a constant application of Gowland’s lotion. At least as a man, that was something he was spared. Adrian’s coat and breeches, although not new, were well-tailored and spotless, but still, he sighed over the effortless style of the man he was covertly ogling with more than passing admiration. Unaware of Adrian’s eager scrutiny, the gentleman continued to cast a cynical eye over the proceedings, not inclined to join in with something as banal as dancing, occasionally addressing a remark to his companion. Although well under thirty, a mere handful of years older than Adrian, the man didn’t look absurdly young, but had the strength and physique of a Corinthian. Added to that was his air of sophistication that Adrian longed to possess. Not only was his fair hair (so much in vogue) fashionably styled and suited perfectly to the Brutus style, it also contrasted perfectly with the dark eyebrows that framed his strong-jawed face. In the same way, he wore his superb evening clothes with a careless flair that Adrian could not hope to achieve, emphasizing those broad shoulders and muscular thighs. As well as noting his physique with a quickening pulse, Adrian reckoned that in the cut of the cloth, he recognized the hand of Weston, the master tailor in London preferred by former military men. His own serviceable garments suddenly seemed shabby and provincial. It didn’t help that the gentleman’s exacting appearance was enhanced by an attitude that he could not care less what impression he made on others. Adrian gazed in hopeless longing while the man looked away from his companion to take a glass of champagne from a proffered tray. When the waiter moved on to offer refreshments to the next group, the gentleman cast an appreciative glance at the taut behind displayed by the short jacket of his livery. As if sensing Adrian’s scrutiny, their eyes met across the throng. Rather than embarrassed, his regard was full of amusement at being caught in the act. To Adrian’s horror, he, rather than the gentleman, was shamefaced by that intercepted leer. He felt that telltale color, the curse of a fair-skinned redhead, flood his face until he was sure it clashed violently with his hair. At this, the gentleman looked even more diverted. Then, with a last, deliberate glance at the server’s rounded bottom, he turned to continue the conversation with the man by his side. “Adrian, please will you dance with me?” Asked a nearby voice and he looked around to see his cousin Julia had approached. His initial instinct was to run away and hide until the damnably attractive gentleman had left the premises. However, he couldn’t resist such an appeal, so putting on a brave face and gallantly taking her hand, he led his cousin in a set of country dances. After several rounds, he thankfully passed a breathless Julia on to another young man. Adrian retired to the side of the ballroom to regain his composure and take some refreshment before another of his cousins required his assistance. Wiping his heated face with his handkerchief, he looked around for a nearby waiter and was relieved to see a glass of champagne presented toward him. He took it with a murmur of thanks, but as he reached out, it dawned on him the sleeve did not belong on a waiter’s uniform. With a sense of inevitable doom, his eyes traveled up the length of the arm to take in the breadth of shoulder and the smiling face of the handsome Nemesis who had so disconcerted him earlier. “Oh,” Adrian said, feeling his face flare an even deeper pink. “I thought you might be parched after your exertions,” observed the gentleman smilingly, enjoying Adrian’s discomfiture. “Thank you,” Adrian stammered, glad that he hadn’t yet taken hold of the glass, as he would have surely dropped it. Trying to compose himself, he said primly, “That’s most considerate of you,” and purposefully took the goblet, careful not to touch the man’s fingers. He took a small sip of the sparkling liquid, not wanting to gulp, choke, or turn an even more garish shade of red. The gentleman continued to look at him steadily, as though Adrian was a droll diversion. Adrian attempted to regain some dignity, saying stiffly, “It gets rather warm in such a crush.” “Yes, dancing will do that for you,” the gentleman said wryly, assessing Adrian in that humorous, calculating way that missed no humiliating detail. Before Adrian could respond, Chloe, another of his cousins, dashed up to him, tugging on his arm, demanding, “Adrian, Adrian, come and dance with me again. I adore this tune!” Adrian tried to hold the glass steady before the contents spilled over onto his coat sleeve. The gentleman came to his rescue, deftly taking it with a mocking grin. “It seems you are in demand. I’ll look after this for you.” Adrian muttered his thanks as he was dragged away by his cousin, wishing the floor would swallow him up.