Page 4 of The Bookworm and the Pegasus Tamer

He said something to Lady Lucia that made the young lady laugh, the musical peals carrying over the music. Aurelia sighed and returned to her book.

But she could no longer concentrate. She peeped up again, watching as the Earl stepped into the room, skirting the dancers to move deeper into the crowd. Everywhere he went, the gentlemen greeted him with either bows or friendly cries and slaps on the shoulder. And from the ladies he received either flirting eyes and fluttering fans or indulgent smiles, depending on the age of the lady in question. And this time there wasn’t a pegasus in sight.

Aurelia forced herself to look back at her page. Too many girls were already watching his progress through the room, and she had no desire to swell their number. And there was no point in her adding to the longing looks anyway. There was no way Danton, Earl of Windward, would ask her to dance. He didn’t even know she existed, and Aurelia had already spotted three young ladies present with considerably more beauty than Aurelia could possibly claim, despite being currently dressed in her prettiest gown.

Not that she wanted him to ask her to dance. The last thing she wanted was for all the eyes currently watching him to be watching her as well. She would probably trip and fall one minute into the dance—and that despite usually dancing with reasonable grace.

The image made her laugh, restoring her previous equanimity. It was obvious that even a bookworm like her wasn’t entirely immune to the Earl’s infamous allure. But thankfully he would have no return interest in a girl with so few dance partners that she’d brought a book to a ball.

Sure enough, he led Lady Lucia into the next dance, and Aurelia—once again without a partner—returned to her book. She did hope someone asked her soon, though. Alanna would want to know all about the event when Aurelia returned to the townhouse they had rented for the spring, and she didn’t want to have to report not dancing a single dance.

Distracted by the book, she missed the end of the song, only vaguely becoming aware of a shift in the room and an increase in the noise of conversation as the dance finished. Resolving to finish her paragraph and then put the book away, she almost missed the approach of long, masculine legs, visible above the page.

She lowered the book slowly, warmth brushing her cheeks. Of course she would get lost in her book on the one occasion a gentleman did want to seek her out.

She looked up, and her mouth fell open, the book nearly dropping from her fingers. The gentleman offering her a polite bow wasn’t one of the familiar few who had danced with her in the past. But it was a face she recognized instantly.

Danton, Earl of Windward, was even more handsome up close. She had been unaware of the exact line of his cheekbones or the perfect proportions of his lips. And she had certainly underestimated the devastating quality of his smile.

“I see we share an interest.” He inclined his head toward the book now dangling from her limp hand.

She glanced down at it, too off-balance to grasp his meaning until her eyes fell on the title. The History of the Pegasus.

The faint warmth in her cheeks jumped instantly into a blazing inferno. Did the people around her think she had brought the book to the ball in the hopes of catching the Earl’s attention? Did he?!

She would have liked to immediately refute any such idea, but she had an incurable tendency toward honesty, and it wasn’t entirely true that she had chosen the book by chance. She hadn’t been thinking of attracting his attention, but she had been entranced by her first look at a pegasus in flight, provided by the Earl at the picnic.

The awareness of her flush only intensified her embarrassment. Any hope that her cheeks had turned an attractive rose color seemed forlorn. They were no doubt much closer to the hue of a tomato. And to think she had turned her nose up at the girls who blushed at the first line the Earl spoke to them. How mortifying.

But standing in front of him in silence was growing even more mortifying, so she opened her mouth and said the first thing that came into it.

“They are fascinating creatures, my lord.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t think there was anything exceptional in that.

“They are indeed,” he agreed more warmly than her comment seemed to warrant.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, her brain function returning as she slowly became inured to the full force of him. He couldn’t possibly be impressed by her weak conversational efforts, so what was he doing lingering so close?

The music struck up behind them, and his smile broadened. He held out a hand, and she stared at it even more suspiciously, her mind not comprehending the meaning of his gesture.

Her suspicion seemed to amuse him since he lowered his voice so only her ears could hear his words.

“Does your book tell you that a pegasus sometimes bites? I can assure you that I don’t, however.”

Her eyes widened, leaping to his, only to find they were laughing at her. Her spine stiffened, and she straightened herself as far as possible—which was sadly no impressive height.

“Would you dance with me, Miss Aurelia?” he asked, immediately distracting her from her indignation.

“You want to dance?” she blurted out.

His expression rippled with amusement. “I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Her hand rose without thought, depositing her fingers in his. And when he moved toward the dance floor, her feet followed. Her mouth, however, seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Is that really true? It’s hard to believe, you know. Surely you’ve asked at least one woman to dance before when you didn’t really wish to do so.”

This time he laughed aloud, and she felt the effect of untold numbers of heads turning toward them. She immediately flushed again.