“I can only imagine how hard it has been for you,” he said, plucking two champagne flutes off a passing tray and handing one to her. “What have you been up to divert yourself?
“I have me own pursuits,” she replied with a smile. “I like bein’ outdoors, takin’ walks and admirin’ everythin’ around me.”
“They say you are a woman of spirit, untamed by the strictures of Society. I find that most refreshing,” He took a tentative step closer, his gaze dropping to her décolletage quickly before flickering to the crowd around them.
Elspeth’s carefully cultivated composure threatened to crack under the pressure of his attention. She knew she was here to find a suitable match, yet she did not feel ready at all. It was all too much. She felt unsure of herself, of a future without…
“I assure ye, Lord Middleby, any rumors ye have heard are likely exaggerated for sport. I am merely a widow seekin’ a quiet life.”
“A quiet life?” He chuckled. “You are so young and, well, beautiful if I may be so bold. The emerald of your gown is a most becoming shade, which complements your eyes. I think you could do better than just a quiet life. Unless that is what you want, of course. And, if I may be so forward, I?—”
Before Elspeth could formulate a proper response, a shadow fell over them. She could smell him, all peat and man and pine. She pressed a hand to her chest as she felthim.
Hugo moved to stand beside her, his usually mercurial expression absolutely thunderous.
“Middleby.” His voice was a low, dangerous growl. “I believe Lady Inverhall is needed elsewhere for a moment. If you would excuse her.”
“Your Grace,” Lord Middleby stammered, taking a hasty step back. “It is such a pleasure to see you and to make the acquaintance of your widow?”
“My widow?”
“I mean, your charge?”
“My charge? She is not my charge. I am merely fulfilling my duty to see that this lady is properly matched; that is all. However, there is a matter that requires Lady Inverhall’s attention. Excuse us.”
Lord Middleby, his face paling, mumbled an inaudible apology and quickly retreated into the crowd.
Elspeth looked up at Hugo, a strange mix of gratitude and annoyance swirling within her.
“Thank ye,” she said, her voice quiet. “I daenae ken if I have the stamina for so much conversation in one evenin’. I am tired.”
Hugo merely grunted, his gaze still fixed on Lord Middleby’s retreating figure.
“Are you all right, Elspeth?” he asked then, realizing what she had said. “Do you feel unwell?”
“I am perfectly well,” she said with a smile. “I could use some refreshment, though. Thank ye.”
Hugo ushered her to the bar and offered her another flute of champagne while the tender wordlessly refilled his glass of brandy. She took a delicate sip, thinking of how much better he would taste.
She shook her head at the thought, seeking to clear her clouded mind.
“That is much better,” Elspeth admitted as she took another sip, feeling the bubbles reach her eyes. “Although I fear I am not up for dancin’. Me feet arenae used to slippers.”
She lifted her skirts slightly, showing off the elegant slippers with delicate patterns embroidered on them.
They look like silver pieces of tinsel.Delicate wisps of silvery light, like a beautiful sìdh.
She quickly lowered her skirts before anyone else could notice, yet she sensed a subtle shift in Hugo’s posture. He tensed and relaxed in time with her movements.
Aye, so that is how this shall be.
She turned away from him, giving a view of her back, which led to her round backside. The dress itself was tasteful and not overly showy, but it did not matter. Her body could not be hidden, and in such proximity, she could sense his blood boiling, praying it reached between his legs.
She liked how the fabric of her gown hugged her curves, swaying with her movements in shimmery green. She knew she was a far cry from the first day he saw her, covered in mud in the middle of Inverhall’s gardens.
If only she had been wearing this gown.
Just as she felt his eyes burning into her back, Elspeth spun around quickly.
