Page 16 of A Lady of Conscience

It was a dangerous prospect. Tonight, when she was alone in her room with her dogs, Hannah might allow herself to entertain it. But not here. Not while they were dancing, at least. It would be a sure recipe for a stumble.

She lapsed into silence again, letting him guide her as the other dancers waltzed past and the music flowed over them. All the while, he gazed down, giving her the full force of his attention. Her cheeks heated under the intensity of it.

“My lord, I⁠—”

“James,” he said.

She blinked in surprise. Her head shook reflexively. “Oh, but I couldn’t.”

“You address my brothers by their given names, do you not?”

“Well…yes. But Ivo and Jack aren’t…” She fumbled for the words to explain.

Ivo and Jack were boys to her. Teasing, merry-hearted brothers. While Lord St. Clare was in every way a man. And not a brother or any other kind of relation, but a handsome, unattainable gentleman so perfect that, most times, he didn’t seem entirely human.

“I would be gratified if you bestowed me with the same honor,” he said.

Hannah could think of no polite way to refuse. “If you insist.” She gave him a disgruntled glance. “But I must say it feels like an unforgiveable liberty.”

His mouth quirked faintly. “Am I so above your touch?”

“Not just mine,” she said candidly. “Everyone’s.” She paused. “You may call me by my given name if you wish it.”

“I very much wish it,” he said. “Hannah.”

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings with increased vigor. Rarely had anyone spoken her name with such husky inflection. She wondered if she’d imagined it?

He spun her in another turn, waltzing her down the length of the floor. Hannah caught a fleeting glance of her mother and father standing at the side of the ballroom. They weren’t alone. Lord and Lady Allendale were with them.

Hannah felt a flicker of self-consciousness. “They’re all watching us.”

James cast a glance at their parents before returning his attention to Hannah’s face. “Not only us. Charles and Kate, and Ivo and Miss Burton-Smythe are dancing as well.”

“Are they? I haven’t seen them.” Hannah turned her head to look for the others only to lose track of her steps. She nearly trod on James’s foot. “Oh! I do beg your pardon!”

“Keep your eyes on mine,” he said.

Her gaze jerked to his in apology. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”

“You’re not clumsy at all.”

“Not so long as I let you lead,” she said, chagrined.

“Then let me,” he said. “I won’t steer you wrong.”

Chapter Five

“It was admittedly not the great success I’d hoped it would be,” Hannah said as she walked Evangeline and Tippo along the green across from Camden Place. “But taken altogether, I cannot be disappointed.”

Mattie Winthrop strolled at Hannah’s side, a patterned shawl twined about her arms. “It’s over now, at any rate,” she replied sensibly. “The other events you attend won’t be half so unnerving.”

“I pray they won’t,” Hannah said.

Last night’s ball had been enough of a trial on its own. She’d hated being so much on display, and had quailed at meeting new people. It was a grim foreshadowing of her season to come—endless months of balls and assemblies and unrelenting awkwardness.

Of course, it hadn’t been all bad.

She’d taken great pleasure in the music, and she had largely enjoyed the dancing. But the purpose of it hadn’t come close to being fulfilled. None of the gentlemen she’d partnered with had resembled the kind, warm-hearted future-husband she’d envisioned for herself. Among them, only Lord St. Clare had sparked a flicker of romance in her soul.