Page 42 of Maid for the Duke

‘Is that when you changed your approach?’

‘If you are polite to people, they relax a little, let down their guard. Take Mrs Friston—if I was rude to her, she would have thought that was her only opportunity to speak to me this evening. She would have clung to me until her daughter had been presented if it was the last thing she ever did. As it was, she felt we had a connection, that I remembered her from previously. Now she is free to find her wayward daughter and approach me again later in the evening.’

‘Well, I think you are a saint to put up with it.’

‘Your Grace,’ a voice called out from the crowd. This time it was a man hurrying over to see them, but his use of the form of address meant others stared in his direction, looking interested.

‘Good evening,’ Will said, as the man came to a stop in front of them before bowing deeply.

‘Forgive me for the intrusion, Your Grace, but when I heard you were in attendance tonight I just had to come and introduce myself. I am Mr Merringer. I studied economics at the university, graduating last year. I hope to find a position close to parliament.’

Will shook the man’s hand and then clapped him on the arm. ‘I applaud your dedication to your country, Mr Merringer. I sit in the House of Lords. I only wish there was something I could do for your career, but alas in the Lords we have to remain separate from the day-to-day business of the Commons. Might I suggest you approach someone with connections there.’

He deftly inclined his head to the ambitious young man and swept Amelie away.

‘Do you have an answer for every request?’

‘It is easy to deflect most people. I have been doing this for a long time.’

‘I now understand the appeal of your gentlemen’s clubs. At least there it is a smaller pool trying to get your attention.’

‘That is one of the benefits.’ Will groaned, seeing the determined Mrs Friston heading in their direction dragging a pale young woman behind her.

‘Amelie,’ Will said, quickly turning to Amelie, ‘Would you do me the honour of joining me for the next dance?’

Amelie felt her pulse quicken. She loved to dance. For years before she’d come of age, she and her mother had attempted all the steps over and over again. Her mother had summoned the servants to push back all the furniture in the drawing room, creating a huge space for them to practise in. Then they would spend hours dancing, taking it in turns to step out as the male and female parts.

She had not danced for a long time. Even before they’d lost the house, she had been too busy and too worried about her family’s future to accept the invitations of her friends to join them at the local dances.

‘I would like that very much.’

An area in the middle of the courtyard acted as the dance floor and half a dozen couples stepped up as the musicians took their places.

‘Our next dance will be a waltz,’ a statuesque woman announced from her position near the string quartet.

Waltzes were one of Amelie’s favourite dances. There was much to be said for the country dances that had a quick beat and required fast footwork, but there was nothing quite like the elegance of a waltz. She could remember gliding round the drawing room with her mother, feeling like the most elegant swan, neck extended, posture perfect.

Will stepped in close, taking one of her hands in his, adjusting his stance so he held her correctly.

‘I feel like we are being watched,’ he murmured to her, his lips twitching at the corners into a smile. ‘Marvel at my restraint as I hold you properly and do not pull you to me as I want to do.’

‘I think every eye in this place is on us,’ Amelie said, suddenly a little uncomfortable. ‘So much for being discreet.’

The music began and Will whisked her round, guiding her with the gentlest of touches. Amelie felt safe in his arms. He was an accomplished dancer, stepping without needing to think, always in exactly the right place at the right time.

Amelie closed her eyes and let the music flow over her. It felt surreal to be here at a ball, dancing with Will. In public they worked hard at not touching, aware even the slightest brush of their hands against one another could give them away. They were often unsuccessful, but the slips normally happened when they were walking along the banks of the river Cam, where there was hardly anyone to notice.

Here, all eyes were on them. If Will held his hand a little too low on her back, or she leaned in a just a fraction too closely, everyone would comment and everyone would have an opinion. Despite the pressure Amelie felt not to make a mistake, she was enjoying the dance. Often at the assembly rooms there’d been many more young ladies than gentlemen. It had meant that her dance card hadn’t always been full, and this was actually the first time she had ever danced a waltz outside the safety of her childhood drawing room. She felt elegant, as if she were flying over the courtyard, tethered only by Will’s confident grip on her.

Too soon, the dance came to an end. Will bowed formally in front of her and then stepped in closer.

‘I do not think it is wise for us to stay too long. We are drawing too much curiosity.’

Amelie looked around and saw he was correct. The other couples were engaged in talking to one another after the dance, but those standing round the periphery were all watching Will and her.

‘You are a popular man.’

‘I think you are drawing as many stares as I. You look ravishing tonight, Amelie, and everyone is eager to know who you are.’