Matthew kept his head on a swivel as he walked the perimeter of the rectangular ballroom. On a raised platform in the corner, theorchestra played welcoming music with strings and woodwinds. The society ladies present were all dressed like pastel-colored bells. Their skirts hid their feet, giving them the illusion of gliding across the polished floor. Fluttering fans wafted up clouds of powder from wigs so thick it saturated his nostrils.
Using the mirrors on the walls, guests watched every movement. He needed to tread carefully. The lionesses in this den had claws sharp enough to maim.
As with any fight, Matthew’s first move was defense.
Steeling himself, he searched for his foes.
Don Lorenzo stood close to the ballroom floor, blessedly occupied by a group of young debutantes and their mothers. Matthew had yet to see Lord Rothwell, but it was still early. Vivian stood in the corner with a crowd around her. Her champagne dress almost matched her skin tone and sparkled when she moved. She kept her fluttering lashes on a group of gentlemen, deliberately not looking in Matthew’s direction.
And he felt… nothing.
He thought it might hurt to see her with other men. Vivian had used jealousy like a whip to make him fall in line. Time and time again, he fell prey to it. But he was finally done. He didn’t have time for her or anyone else.
Only Jasmine.
Now that he knew where the landmines were, he focused on his target.
At the back of the room, near the open windows, Jasmine chatted with Lady Dorchester, Honora and Caroline. Jasmine’s black hair was pinned up with pink roses. Loose ringlets framed her face, and she kept pushing them behind her ears. She wore a longer strand of pearls tonight and a pale pink dress with matching elbow-length gloves.
Her smile made her far more beautiful, especially when she directedit at him. He returned her smile like a hug and fought the urge to run to her. Instead, he approached slowly. Courtship was a precise dance, and the first step was to ask the matriarch for permission. He waited until Lady Dorchester gave him a subtle wave with her fan, encouraging him to approach.
He bowed.
“Good evening, Lady Dorchester, Lady Jasmine.” He offered a gentlemanly smile to the ladies and a nod to Honora and Caroline, then returned his attention to Lady Dorchester. “I hope everyone is enjoying their evening?”
A far cry from her previous coldness, Lady Dorchester raised her arms in welcome, as if showing him into a drawing room for tea. Matthew released a long exhale. This was Aunt Valentine. Stern, but with maternal love in her eyes.
“Good evening, Matthew. Have you come to cause trouble?”
“Trouble?” He put a hand to his chest. “Haven’t you heard, Lady Dorchester? I’m a repentant.”
“We’ll see.” A corner of her lip lifted. “How may I help you?”
Trying to appear calm while his palms sweated in his gloves, he laid his head on the chopping block. “If it pleases the both of you, may I request the honor of Lady Jasmine’s first dance?”
Aunt Valentine shared a look with her daughter. “Jasmine?”
Jasmine stepped forward, beaming at him.
“You’re already penciled in!”
She presented her lilac-scented dance card for inspection.Lord Lincolnshirewas the first name on her card for the opening country dance, and also the last—a waltz. His brows rose, and his eyes shot to Lady Dorchester.
“I can dance with hertwice?”
“And one walk around the room tonight,” she supplied. “Lady Worthing has been kind enough to offer her chaperonage. I’ll mindCaroline during that time.”
Unsure of what he had done to deserve this shift in her attitude, Matthew struggled for words. “Are you sure it’s all right? The Lady Patronesses were clear—”
“Lord Lincolnshire.” Lady Dorchester pointed her fan at him and scowled. “You are aserioussuitor, are you not?”
“I am,” he assured her at once. He met Jasmine’s eyes and spoke his words like a vow. “I’m serious in my intentions.”
Jasmine raised her fan to hide her smile, but her eyes lit up when they met his.
“Then my answer is yes, Lord Lincolnshire, because you’re turning over a new leaf—” Lady Dorchester’s voice rose just enough to be heard by others. “I am giving you express permission for my daughter’s first and last dance of the evening, to walk the room with her tonight, and another chaperoned outing tomorrow.”
Those in the vicinity turned their heads, their eyes and mouths open wide. A murmuring rippled under fans. Gossip spread through the room like a wave. With one sentence, she had publicly insinuated her permission for him to propose. His pulse pounded loudly in his ears. Like the Queen had knighted him, he felt like he should kneel. Instead, he bowed again.
