Tristan loosened his arms. As much as he’d have liked to smother all her protests with more sweet kisses and exploratory hands beneath her skirts, he was not the sort of gentleman who pressed on in unwanted circumstances. “May I court you?”
She stared at him, obviously startled at his question. “What?” She pulled away, out of his arms, which he did not care for at all.
“May I court you? I think we would suit.” Tristan watched like a starving orphan as she licked her swollen lips.
“I’m sorry, I—” Eleanor took another step backwards, putting her hands on her hips.
Terror pinged through his body. Had he misinterpreted the signs? She had been kissing him most enthusiastically.
“I’m surprised, that’s all,” she said finally. “I thought you were a bit more of a rogue.”
Tristan winced, remembering how his sister had protested his nicknaming habits. “I was a rogue. I would like to think of myself as—currently—mature.”
Eleanor chewed her bottom lip, and it was challenging to leave her to the endeavor alone. She folded her arms across her chest, giving him a display of her very excellent breasts that were very difficult to not pay attention to. “You were a boy when you thought all of them up?”
Tristan looked up to the sky, for he certainly could not look at her while he thought. “All the ones that stuck, anyway.”
“Justine does pick on you something terrible.” Eleanor’s arms dropped.
“She does,” he agreed, swaying closer to her.
“But...” Eleanor looked at him, her eyes dropping to his lips.
“But you’ll kiss me twice and just leave me out to dry? Use me up? Tarnish my reputation?” He couldn’t help but smile as he once again closed the gap between them. “Love me and leave me?”
She gave him a schoolmarm’s smile and shook her head, acknowledging his teasing. “I thought you were perhaps kissing me out of boredom.”
“How utterly insulting.” A thought occurred to him. “Wait. You weren’t kissingmeout of boredom, were you? As anexperiment, I can understand. Being irresistibly drawn to me, also, very understandable.”
“You do have a high opinion of yourself,” Eleanor said.
“Idon’t have a high opinion of myself; these are all things people have told me. I’m merely repeating gossip. Well, gossip and empirical facts.”
Eleanor laughed softly and shook her head again. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I’m dogged,” he said, trying to catch her eye, but the shadows made it difficult. “I’m serious, Eleanor. I’d like to court you. We’ll be proper about it and everything.”
She considered him, and it made him want to straighten his spine and pull down his waistcoat. Prove he was worthy of her scrutiny. “I think I’d like that.”
“Excellent!” His heart leapt. This was the future—Lady Emily was right. By God, what a smart girl. He should really recommend her to his brother. “I will take care of everything.”
“May I tell people?” she asked.
“Why would you not tell people?” he asked. “Are you ashamed of me?”
She laughed, and dear God, it sounded like tiny silver bells tinkling. “No, I thought you might be ashamed of me. I am a merchant’s daughter, after all.”
“No, Eleanor. You are an heiress. There’s a difference. An heiress has power. A merchant’s daughter is... I don’t know. Something else entirely.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Let me speak to your father formally before we say anything. Give me the evening to sort it?”
“I can wait that long,” she said. “For you.”
*
Eleanor passed therest of the dance in a daze. She would stare at Tristan from across the room, and he would look up, as if feeling the heat of her gaze, and smile. It melted her completely. Could this be what happiness was? She couldn’t even remember what they discussed when he danced with her. She was no longer herself—she was far too dreamy for her practical self.
Even her mother remarked on her demeanor.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this at home in public.” Her mother leaned in and took a discreet sniff.
