“If I am right, it ishewho had better watch out.”
Augusta hardly noticedthe break in the music. She was enjoying a comfortable coze with Sir James Ashford, one of her oldest friends from home and a name she hadn’t bothered to put on her list. He had already been most helpful, chattering on with only the slightest urging about several of their neighbors, but she dared not push too hard. Still, she had decided that she could eliminate two of her suspects, while a third looked to merit closer scrutiny.
“Forgive me, Gus, but I must excuse myself and find my next partner. Shall I escort you back to your Mama or your sister?”
“Thank you, Jamie, but I am quite happy to sit here for a spell.”
He bent over her hand. “Can’t imagine why you choose to act like a turbaned matron and refuse to set foot on the floor.”
“I never dance. My bones are too creaky to climb down from the shelf, you know.”
They both smiled. Her unmarried state had become a joke between them. He had offered for her once, at the end of her first Season, though she had always felt it was more from loyalty thanany deeper emotion. When she had gently but firmly refused, he had seemed rather relieved. Now, he was more like the older brother she no longer had, and she much preferred it that way, since she would never have any more than sisterly feelings for him.
“I shall see you later, then.”
He withdrew into the crowd and Augusta took a moment to survey the room. Marianne was surrounded by a bevy of admirers, but they were no cause for concern. All were perfectly acceptable young men, so she felt free to turn her attention to the crush of people gathered in the glittering ballroom. In the flickering light of the myriad candles, it was difficult to discern whether any of the other gentlemen she was interested in were present. Perhaps she could ask Jamie later?—
“Lady Augusta.” The rise in tone indicated it was not the first time the gentleman had said her name.
Her head jerked around.
“I asked if I might be allowed the pleasure of this dance,” said Marcus.
She stared at him in disbelief. “Youare askingmeto dance? Aren’t you afraid I might tread on your toes or cause you to trip and split your pantaloons?”
He gave a low chuckle and her insides gave a small lurch. It was the first real smile she had seen on his face, and its effect was rather … devastating. “Ah, but this time I shall be on guard against any havoc you might wreak on my person.”
She forced her eyes away. “You needn’t bother. I never dance.”
Ignoring her assertion, he reached for her hand.
“G-Go away.”
“Come now,” he murmured “I have come to know you are capable of a more scathing set down than that. Perhapssomething that includes ‘pompous ass’ and ‘foul-mouthed twit’?”
Why, the man actually had a sense of humor!Her lips twitched in spite of her resolve to ignore him.
Suddenly, before Augusta quite knew how it had happened, she was on her feet, his hand firmly around her elbow.
“Now why does a pompous ass wish to dance with an idiot?” she asked softly as he guided her out onto the crowded floor.
He didn’t answer her. The first notes of a lilting melody drifted through the air, along with the faint scent of cut lilacs and tuber roses. There was a rustle of silk as ladies turned to their partners and Augusta realized it was a waltz that was starting. She opened her mouth to protest, but the earl’s hand had already come to rest at the small of her back, drawing her close enough that she could feel the heat from his muscular thighs.
“Relax,” he murmured close to her ear. “Follow me and we shall manage to navigate these treacherous waters without sinking another couple or running aground on the platter of lobster patties.”
That he was an excellent dancer came as no surprise to her, for she had already noticed how he moved with a lithe masculine grace that exuded an undercurrent of coiled strength. That she matched his steps without effort was a bit more of a shock. Though accorded to have a natural rhythm herself, Augusta expected that nerves would deaden her limbs into awkward stiffness. But after the first few halting movements, she forgot all about being self-conscious, letting the music and his subtle touch sweep her along.
It was several moments before he spoke again.
“What?” Her eyes flew open in some embarrassment. She hadn’t even realized they had been shut.
The corners of his mouth curled upward. “I said, for someone who never dances, you are doing quite well.”
“Actually, what you mean is, you are relieved that I haven’t capsized you into the fountain, ruining yet another waistcoat.”
“Ah, but this one is watered silk.” There was a decided twinkle in his blue eyes.
A burble of laughter escaped her lips, then she quickly caught herself and composed her features into a more serious mien. Other ladies might find him irresistible, but she had no intention of being seduced by the Earl of Dunham’s charm.
