Page 28 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘Imagine everyone around you has come to the ball in their underclothes.’

A laugh burst from Jane’s lips at the absurdity of it.

‘Go on, try it. I promise it’ll work. How about Mr Leggety?’

‘Stop it,’ Jane said as they started to move.

‘Or Mrs Waterbeach.’

‘Don’t, this is cruel.’

‘To them or to you, having to imagine it?’

‘Both.’

‘What about Lord Penrose?’

Jane laughed again and then looked down, realising that they were waltzing and had been for some time.

‘It’s working, isn’t it?’

She panicked, not knowing what beat she was on, and tried to start counting.

‘Stop,’ he said firmly. ‘You do not need to count. You are dancing beautifully.’

She stumbled again as she glanced down at her feet.

‘Look at me, Miss Ashworth.’

She did, feeling the pull of his dark eyes and feeling a shiver run down her spine as he leaned in closer to her.

‘If it helps, imagine me in my underclothes.’

Jane spluttered, even though she hadn’t been about to say anything.

‘Oversized bloomers, double layer of vest, perhaps even a thick nightshirt.’

‘You don’t wear any of that, do you?’ she managed to say, aware her eyes were raking down his body, trying to imagine exactly what was underneath the well-tailored jacket and trousers.

For a long moment Jane thought he wasn’t going to answer and then he leaned in even closer so his lips were almost up against her ear.

‘Nothing at all.’

He spun her, whisking her round and round, his eyes locked on hers as if she were the only person in the world.

Jane had no idea how long the dance lasted. It felt as though everything else had faded away into nothing. Even the music was a faint melody in the background. When Mr Stewart stopped moving, she stood for a moment, completely still in his arms, her chest heaving from the exertion and the heightened awareness.

‘Thank you for the dance, Miss Ashworth,’ he said, and Jane managed to mumble something as they stepped away from the dance floor.

‘You look a little flushed. Would you like a glass of lemonade?’

She nodded, glad of the suggestion. She needed a few minutes alone, a few minutes to reason with herself, to try and claw back some of her sanity.

As Mr Stewart left her, Jane stayed still for a few seconds, and then as he disappeared out of view she let out a deep exhalation and turned to leave. She planned to find a quiet corner, perhaps on the chairs set out for chaperons and spinsters, to get her breath back and reset her equilibrium.

Instead she barrelled right into a tall man. Apologising quickly, she rushed away, not even looking the man in the eye.

Feeling as though the crowd of people was closing in, she decided she needed some air and hurried towards the ornate glass doors that led onto the terrace.