Excerpt of To Tempt a Bride by Edith Layton

Chapter One

It was the hottest spot in London on the coldest night of
the year. The humidity was so high that water dripped down
the inside of the closed windows as the outside iced over.
The dancers' armpits would have shown damp spots if
there'd been room for them to lift their arms, but there
was hardly room to move their feet. Still, they kept
smiling. Because although it felt like a jungle, they were
in a ballroom in the best part of London town, and for all
their sweat and panting, they were happy to be there.

But one of the guests felt a chill and knew it was time to
go home.

The problem was that he couldn't leave right away any more
than he could stay. Eric Ford looked around the crowded
room and decided he had a choice: he could remain and
embarrass himself or leave and embarrass himself. He
shuddered again. That made up his mind. He recognized the
signs. He'd hoped it was over and done with, but realized
with sinking heart that it was not, and so he had no
choice. He'd have to be quick with a glib excuse and leave
as soon as he could, because he began to think that this
time, however hurt, feelings would mend faster than he
would.

Eric scanned the room, seeing more than most men would, if
only because he was the tallest there. The woman he was
looking for was wearing gold, he remembered.

There. She was with a young officer, romping in a country
reel.

Eric knew the tune, heard it winding to a close, and knew
the dance would soon be over. No matter whose name she had
on her dance card, he'd talk her into letting him have the
next one. He had to, for he wasn't sure he could linger
longer.

When the music stopped, she raised a flushed face to her
partner, and the two of them began to leave the floor.
Eric's head began to throb, but he pasted on a smile and
went to intercept them.

And the musicians struck up again, this time a waltz.

Eric frowned. She had permission to waltz, but if he tried
to whirl around the room now, he was sure his head would
go whirling off his shoulders. Soon it would feel as if it
had anyway. But he couldn't disappoint her. As he stood
wondering what to do, he saw her being approached by
another man. Eric grimaced and moved forward. This time,
he'd have to be ready when the music ended. He'd given her
his word.

"Two dances?" she had cried excitedly when he'd agreed to
her teasing suggestion. She'd slewed around in her
saddle. "Really? Oh, Eric! That would be wonderful! Won't
that open their eyes! To see me, a great gawk of a girl
from the country, snaring you for two dances! I'll have a
partner for every dance for the rest of the Season, much
less the night!" She'd whooped with laughter before he
could make a comment to take the sting from her words.

"What a bag of moonshine!" He'd laughed in return, angling
his horse closer. "You've been a success since you
appeared on the scene. I wonder how many likely lads I'll
have the threaten in order to even get my two dances."

"They'll have to deal with me if they try to interfere
with you," she'd said immediately and then laughed again,
a little shamefacedly, when he grinned at the thought of
her having to help him.

Because while Camille was a fine figure of a girl, he was
almost a giant, with enough muscles to give his tailor
fits. Current fashion wasn't happy with gentlemen built
along the lines of Hercules, but Camille obviously was.
Still, she was young, and he was her brother's friend, and
she adored her brother, so that probably accounted for it.
But she was also bright, so Eric was sure that sooner than
later she'd see that was the extent of her interest in him
and go on to fascinate more suitable beaux. That would be
especially true now that she was in London at last. Still,
the least he could do was to make her feel comfortable in
her new setting, and if two dances would do it, he was
happy to oblige.

She had flashed him a brilliant smile that day, nudged her
horse forward, and they'd gone galloping down the riding
trail, each too pleased with the fine afternoon and their
plans to say another word.

When he'd seen her tonight, he'd actually stopped in his
tracks, confused, as though he'd seen a familiar face in
an unfamiliar setting and couldn't quite place it. His
jolly companion on horseback was now a vision, with her
hair done up like a lady and the thin gold gown showing
how much of a woman she'd become. He was used to seeing
her romping with her dogs or riding her horses, always
dressed in comfortable old clothes. He didn't know if her
new gown was comfortable, but it made him uncomfortable to
see the young lady she had suddenly become.

She'd opened her arms to show him all her new splendor and
then sank into a deep curtsey. When she rose, she grinned
her old familiar grin at him. "I clean up nicely, don't
I?" she said with her usual cheeky good humor.

Her brother sighed, her sister-in-law rolled her eyes, and
Eric laughed. "You certainly do," he said, and led her
into his first promised dance.

But tonight Eric realized his own personal David was in
the room with him and he didn't have long before he'd be
felled as certainly as Goliath had been ...