His eyes were much darker than Mr. Beauford’s—not a color she could name. They reminded her of a forest, filled with deep-green leaves and rough, dark tree bark. They were unfamiliar, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “My next set is taken,” she replied, and the dark eyes changed from leaves and bark to moss and stone. His shoulders stiffened, and he gave her a nod, even more serious than Mr. Beauford’s. She stepped forward but stopped before placing her hand upon his arm. Something told her the duke wouldn’t appreciate any form of contact without permission. “But the set before supper is still unclaimed.”
One edge of his mouth quirked slightly, as if he wanted to smile but thought better of it. His eyes came alive though, returning to their brighter forest version. “Until the supper set, then.” He bowed to both of them, turned on his heel like a soldier, and strode through the crush, which opened up to make room for him.
Mr. Beauford stood for a moment, then must have remembered his task of returning her to Mama, for he started forward. “That was the Duke of Harrington.”
“Yes.” Mercy kept her voice unaffected, as if dukes asked her to dance every Wednesday and twice on Saturdays.
“Have you known him long?”
“Not long at all. We have only just been introduced.” She said the words lightly, and she hoped Mr. Beauford took them that way. But she had offered him the supper set, which meant they would not only dance, but dine together as well. She had several other sets still free. Why had she offered him that one?
Because of Mama? Because of Mercy’s atrocious behavior in his home? It had happened so quickly—she hadn’t truly thought of either of those things. Although her behavior to him might have played a role in her quick decision. That, coupled with the way his forest eyes had darkened in disappointment. Dancing and supper would be her penance. Mercy wasn’t a serious person, while the duke’s whole persona was seriousness. Yet shewasn’t normally cruel, and a small pit in her stomach had told her she had been cruel to the man while at his home. Despite his title, he was, in fact, a person. She may have forgotten that during their afternoon together, but she wouldn’t forget now. It wasn’t as though he was asking her to marry him. He was simply asking her for a dance.
Chapter 10
Nicholas danced with two otheryoung ladies and one older, married woman before his supper dance with Lady Mercy. Lady Mercy seemed to be much more comfortable in ballrooms than she was in drawing rooms. At least,hisdrawing room at any rate. Gone was the quiet young woman who didn’t meet his eye. Instead she was smiling at nearly everyone.
Perhaps it was the music or her obvious love of dancing, but when he approached her and her parents to claim her for his set, Lady Mercy turned toward him with her lips turned up as if she were happy to see him. Two smiles in one evening. This may be his new way of measuring the success of an event.
Her mother smiled even broader, and her father’s face was cautious but welcoming. Lady Mercy dropped a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek. The movement caught Nicholas by surprise. It was almost childlike, but the decision to kiss her mother in front of a large crowd was also remarkably mature. Lady Mercy didn’t hide her childlike nature to impress those around her. He had tried to understand what it was that drew him to her, and in that moment, it hit him.
Lady Mercy was secure and comfortable with who she was.
He wasn’t sure he knewanyonewho was comfortable with who they were. Patience was a prime candidate now, but before she’d married Ottersby, she’d run off to become a maid, for heaven’s sake. That hardly showed an understanding of who she was. But Lady Mercy didn’t shy away from her emotions or apologize for not acting as Society would have her act. Whether she was crying at a stranger’s funeral, listening in at doorways, or losing herself as she danced, she displayed an indominable spirit unfettered by expectations of the people around her.
He held out a hand, and when she reached for it, smiling in that way that lit up the space around her, he pitied the rest of the men in the room.
Their first dance was a Scotch reel, and as soon as they lined up, Lord Bryant and his wife lined up next to them, completing the foursome for the dance. He would have rather danced with strangers so he could focus all his attentions on Lady Mercy, but Lord and Lady Bryant weren’t the type of couple that were easily ignored. Patience fancied them to be great friends. Nicholas could do without the pretentious lord who, before he’d married Lady Bryant, had managed to flirt with not only Nicholas’s sister but his mother as well.
Nicholas stepped forward and tipped his head toward Lady Mercy. “Have you been introduced to Lord and Lady Bryant?”
She shook her head and raised an eyebrow at the couple. “He is dancing with his wife?”
Nicholas scoffed. “His reputation still follows him. I doubt his wife would want him dancing with anyone else.”
Lady Mercy’s eyes flashed. “It looks to me as though he wouldn’t want to dance with anyone else either.”
Nicholas turned to see Lord Bryant whispering in Lady Bryant’s ear, his lips dangerously close to his wife’s neck.
Nicholas blinked and looked away. “Lord Bryant has never been one to adhere to societal rules.”
Lady Mercy pressed her lips together as if she were fighting a smile. “So I have heard.”
“He is—perhaps unfortunately—a close family friend. I will introduce you.”
Nicholas stepped back to his position across from Lady Mercy. He turned to Lord Bryant, who was now touching the bottom curl of his wife’s hair. Nicholas cleared his throat loudly. Lord Bryant turned, and a devilishly crooked grin sprouted on his face. “Harrington.” He strode two steps forward and grasped Nicholas by the shoulder. But his eyes only held Nicholas’s for a moment before shifting to Lady Mercy. One solitary eyebrow lifted before he returned his gaze to Nicholas, tipping his head toone side in anticipation of an introduction.
The man was married. Happily married. Still, a ridiculous urge to pummel him rose up in Nicholas’s chest. Why had Nicholas offered to introduce them? But it was too late now. Rules of Society, like introductions, were to be followed, and Nicholas knew how to follow rules. Thank goodness, otherwise Nicholas might have been tempted to drag Lady Mercy away to the corridor again so he could have those smiles of hers to himself. That would put a hasty end to his pursuit of her. The last thing she’d want was a man who couldn’t control himself. He pulled his shoulders back and remembered who he was. The Duke of Harrington. His father’s son. “Lord Bryant, Lady Bryant, may I introduce you to Lady Mercy Rothschild, daughter of Lord and Lady Driarwood?”
Lord and Lady Bryant smiled warmly at Lady Mercy, but the music started forcing them to form a square and halt any more conversation. The Scotch reel was typically a favorite of his, as the steps were fast-paced and technical, and he was always precise with the bouncing movements. With Lady Mercy, however, he would have preferred a dance with more opportunities for speaking.
They took their first step, and Lady Mercy’s feet flew to the beat of the reel, and her mouth blossomed into that radiant and inviting bow. How often had he snatched glimpses of that delightful curve of her lips as she danced with others? For the moment, her smile was his, and he wouldn’t spend wasted time regretting the dance choice. He straightened his shoulders and paid particular attention to his feet. Lady Mercy was a dancing master, and at least in this, he would not disappoint.
He managed every step perfectly, until they formed a square with Lord Bryant and his wife. Lord Bryant’s wicked grin, as he flashed his eyes toward Lady Mercy and back to Nicholas, made him misstep slightly. Nicholas cursed under his breath andredoubled his efforts.
The four of them took hands, and Nicholas found himself directly across from Lord Bryant. The man didn’t take his eyes off him as they circled. Then, the dance changed, and for a brief moment, Nicholas had Lady Mercy to himself as they rotated a few quick turns, her hands in his. It was his moment to speak to her, if he wanted it. And he did want it. But apparently his brain had stopped functioning, and he could think of nothing to say.
The moment was gone almost as soon as it appeared, and instead he found himself with Lady Bryant’s hands. “Lady Mercy seems lovely,” Lady Bryant said, her smile broad. Nicholas nodded in agreement, but he was hardly attentive. From the corner of his eye, Lord Bryant was laughing with Lady Mercy.
