Which had parted, either in anticipation of the kiss that hung in the air between them, or because she too struggled for air.
He dropped her hand.
“My apologies,” he said gruffly.
She touched her fingers to her mouth, and then to her chest. “None needed.”
“I should not have touched you.” Why was he going on about this?
She nodded. “I should not have let you.”
“Then we understand each other,” he said.
He understood very, very well.
Under no circumstances could they be alone together again.
Especially if it might lead tofun.
Chapter 6
Cynthia Louise stared down at the straw she’d drawn.
After spending last night and all morning keeping every subsequent interaction with Nottingvale as formal and lieutenant-ish as possible, ofcoursethey’d been randomly assigned to the same team for the evening game of charades.
Each group of performers was spread out in pockets throughout the ballroom, leaving the raised wooden dais open for the pantomimes.
Cynthia’s team consisted of the Duke of Nottingvale, three debutantes, said debutantes’ mothers and chaperones—who hadnotbeen assigned to the group, but hovered over their charges’ shoulders protectively—as well as the duke’s tailor and future brother-in-law, Mr. McAlistair.
Gertie’s group consisted of both local blacksmiths, the local dairy farmer, the local baker, the castle solicitor, and Lady Isabelle, the duke’s sister. Gertie’s group was on the opposite side of the ballroom.
It was going to be impossible to matchmake from here.
“I could switch places with Lady Gertrude,” Cynthia said.
“You can’t switch places,” snapped one of the mothers, who hadn’t been assigned to this group at all. “Straws were drawn for a reason.”
“I’m surprised you’re here at all,” said one of the other mothers. “I thought I saw youleaving the partyafter breakfast.”
“Uncivilized,” sniffed another.
“I had to leave after breakfast,” Cynthia said. “Don’t you read the Cressmouth Gazette? Today was the final ice carving demonstration in the castle park.”
“You were gone forhours. How long can it take to look at ice sculptures?”
“I’ve no idea,” Cynthia said with a shrug. “I can tell you it took two hours and thirty-six minutes to attempt to carve a completely unrecognizable frozen facsimile of a partridge.”
“You wereinthe ice-carving competition?” Nottingvale closed his eyes. “Of course you were.”
“I finished in last place,” she said cheerfully. “It was glorious. Let me know if you’d like to decorate your garden with frozen blobs that in no way resemble bird-like creatures.”
“Lady Gertrude is such a treasure,” whispered one of the mothers. “How can she be related to...her?”
“Gossip is far more gauche than ice-sculpting,” Cynthia informed her haughtily. “Although I suppose at least you didn’t wait to do it behind my back.”
“She also does it behind your back,” the daughter whispered.
“I know,” Cynthia whispered back.
