She considered refusing. She considered causing a scene. Against her better judgment, she placed her hand in his. The contact sent a sharp awareness through her, which was immediate and unwelcome. He drew her into the dance with effortless authority, his hand settling at her waist, as if it somehow belonged there.
“Careful,” she murmured. “Someone might think ye are enjoying yerself.”
“Someone already daes,” he replied.
She shot him a look. “Ye are insufferable.”
“And ye,” he said, guiding her smoothly through the turn, “are very much nae a maid.”
“Because I can count steps?” she asked, refusing to show him how amused she was. “Or because I dinnae avert me eyes?”
“Because ye act like a noble woman,” he clarified. “Although ye kicked me like a farmer’s daughter.”
She smiled then, but it was as sharp as a blade. “Ye deserved it.”
The dance tightened, the space between them narrowing with every movement. She was acutely aware of his hand at her back and of the way his attention never drifted, never softened.
“Ye still have nae answered me,” he looked at her then and she felt a tidal wave of warmth wash over her. “Noble or nae?”
Margaret leaned closer, her voice pitched just for him. “If I were a laird’s daughter, would ye treat me differently?”
“Aye.”
“And if I were a maid?”
His gaze held hers. “Also, aye.”
She laughed softly. “Then it seems me answer changes naething.”
“On the contrary,” he said. “It changes everything.”
She arched a brow. “Ye speak in riddles.”
“I speak in offers,” he corrected. “And before this night is done, ye will hear mine. But before I make it, I need tae ken yer position in society.”
Margaret turned beneath his hand, meeting his eyes through the mask. She could feel her pulse quickening from the challenge he had just posed.
“Then ye had best choose yer words carefully,” she urged. “I am nae easily persuaded.”
His grip tightened, just enough to be felt. “Neither am I.”
They completed the turn, their bodies aligned by the dictates of the dance. For a moment, Margaret said nothing. Despite everything, or perhaps exactly because of everything, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His control astounded her, and the way he watched her as though she were not merely a puzzle, but a decision.
“Fine,” she said, forming a decision of her own. “I am noble.”
The admission cost her more than she expected. It was not fear that followed, but strangely, fleeting relief.
He smiled. It was the first time she had seen it, and it unsettled her more than his severity had done. The expression did not soften him.
“I thought so,” he said quietly.
“And yet ye pressed,” she replied. “A discourtesy.”
“A necessity,” he countered. “I wished tae ken how far ye would go tae protect yer loved ones.”
She stiffened. “Ye ken naething of me motives and who I am protecting.”
“I ken enough,” he assured her. “Which is why I will make ye an offer.”
