She slowly arched her brows as she regarded Mr. Ravel. “Since I have never been foolish enough to toss my heart at any gentleman’s feet, I believe you are safe in making the introduction.”

Tydale heaved a resigned sigh. “Oh, very well, but do not say I did not attempt to warn you of his dastardly charm. Lady Gilbert, may I make you known to Mr. Ravel?”

Fiercely aware of that haughty black stare, Simone sank into a shallow curtsy.

“Mr. Ravel.”

His bow was even more brief. “Lady Gilbert.”

Simone gritted her teeth. “Lord Tydale, would you be kind enough to procure me a glass of champagne?”

There was a moment’s pause before the older man gave a reluctant grimace. “But of course. I shall return.”

Lord Tydale grudgingly turned to move away, and Mr. Ravel boldly flicked his gaze over her slender form.

“Do all gentlemen leap to your commands so swiftly, Lady Gilbert?”

Simone was startled by the soft, seductively dark tones. There was a faint trace of an accent but it oddly only made his voice more pleasing.

She gave an unwitting shake of her head, attempting to clear her suddenly thick thoughts.

There was something ... something drawing her into a strange sense of lethargy that made it difficult to think of anything beyond the tempting beauty of his ebony eyes.

She swayed forward, nearly lost in the darkness before she was belatedly grasping her elusive anger and gathering it about her like a tattered shroud. She tilted her chin upward.

“Those who wish to please me,” she said in an admirably steady voice.

Something that might have been surprise rippled over the pale, elegant features before Mr. Ravel allowed his lips to curl upward.

“Ah, a woman who demands obedience,” he mocked. “Tell me, my dear, do you not find admirers with no will of their own rather tedious? There are, after all, faithful hounds if you wish utter submission. A gentleman of genuine strength could provide a great deal more. Anything you could desire.”