Alexander presented the woman his best smile. “If you insist.” He offered her his arm and nodded a farewell to Bacggart. He recognized the viscount’s dismay, but in the pecking order that was London’s society, Alexander’s earldom held the advantage of history and of wealth and of importance in the peerage.
Although her hand barely touched the cloth of his sleeve, Alexander noted a certain “comfort” in having the young woman at his side. It was something he had never considered with anyone previously, and the idea would necessitate more attention once he was alone. For now, he would be required to concentrate on learning all he could of the woman and her uncle.
They walked in silence for perhaps a quarter of the room before she said, “I do not recall your requesting a dance, my lord.” Again, his awareness was on alert, for a slight quiver in her voice announced her nervousness. She was most assuredly not the polished “agent” her uncle appeared to be. Perhaps Alexander could use such information to learn more of Honfleur’s purpose in England.
“I would never permit a lady to suffer thirty minutes of Lord Bacggart stepping upon her toes. I meant to be your gallant.”
“Do you not think I am capable of refusing Lord Bacggart without your interference, my lord?”
He grinned purposely. “Here I thought myself providing a service to a stranger to our fair land.” He faked a blow to his heart.
“Do not be foolish, my lord,” she chastised, although the slight blush coloring her cheeks said she was more embarrassed than angry.
“I assure you, Miss Moreau, I am never foolish. I am always honest. It was my intention to claim your acquaintance, butLord Bacggart managed to reach you first. A grand gesture was required,” he declared.
She had, at length, found her courage. “You made no effort to greet my uncle or me upon our entrance, and you were detained by the beautiful lady in the white and green Grecian dress.”
Alexander did not look away from the woman at his side. The fact she had noted his companions spoke volumes. Whoever she was, she had been trained in observation, and, he suspected, in other forms of engagements. “The lady is the daughter of my nearest neighbor. Her father’s estate and mine march along together. We have known each other since we were quite young. In fact, Lord Duncan served as one of my guardians when I became Marksman. Served me well until I reached my majority.”
“Does Lord Duncan no longer provide sage advice?” she asked, apparently momentarily forgetting the “chess match” they played.
“Duncan remains as steadfast as ever,” he confided. It was not like him to discuss his relationship with the Scot beyond the long-forgotten guardianship, but, for a reason he could not explain, Alexander wished her to know more of him and for him to learn more of her.
The first notes of the music sounded, interrupting the moment. “Do we dance or not, Miss Moreau?” he asked with a lift of eyebrows.
She glanced at where Honfleur kept company with several gentlemen. Whether she was aware or not, Alexander knew the men to be those of a more “radical” nature than was he. “My uncle will not approve,” she said in tones which again relayed a certain underlying “fear.”
Her reaction had Alexander suddenly feeling very protective of her. “I would not wish you to know censure on my account, Miss Moreau. I would gladly return you to your uncle’s side, if such is your wish.”
She shook off his offer. “I am not likely to know peace whether I choose to dance or not,” she announced. “In truth, I have always dreamed of dancing in an English ballroom. When I was young, my mother would spin me around and around and hum some of her favorite songs as we danced about each other.”
“I had a mother who did something very similar,” he said with an easy smile, for that particular memory was one of his favorites of Madelyn Smithfield Dutton. He extended his hand to the young woman. “One dance in honor of our mothers.”
She placed her hand in his, and, instantly, another shock of awareness skittered up Alexander’s arm. It was only through a force of will he did not jerk his hand away. Then he looked into the lady’s eyes and read the same reaction in hers.
“What the devil?” he hissed.
