Page 16 of The Companion’s Secret

Branthwaite’s eyes darted toward his brother and, after a moment’s consideration, his lips twitched in amusement. In the gallery, the musicians picked up their instruments. “I believe the set is starting, Lady Felicity. Perhaps that will give me time to explain myself,” he said, extending his hand.

Fox looked pleased. “And you, Miss Burke—will you partner me? I wish to make amends for the other day.”

“Then for God’s sake, spare her your dancing,” Lord Ashborough said as he held out one hand, offering to lead her onto the floor. A flicker of surprise crossed Mr. Fox’s face; then he bowed, deferring to his friend.

Over his shoulder, Mrs. Kendal scowled and shook her head at Cami. Strangers surreptitiously awaited her reply. But Felicity’s blue eyes flooded with relief. This was the supper dance. If Cami accepted him, it would spare her cousin the marquess’ attentions for an hour or more.

To say nothing of providing a golden opportunity to mine his conversation for greater insights into his character.

In order to help her readers understand the motives of the fictional Lord Granville, she had been making rather free with Lord Ash in her mind, on paper. And in the process, she had found herself growing curious about the real man. Dangerously curious. About why, or even whether, he did the shocking things he was said to do.

About how it might feel to do some of those shocking things with him.

She smoothed her hand over her borrowed skirts, then laid it on Lord Ashborough’s outstretched palm. In recent years, her dancing had been limited to impromptu evenings in a neighbor’s drawing room, partnered by one of her brothers or perhaps a sister, if at all. Now, under the glow of a hundred candles and amid the whirl of fashionable gowns and sparkling gems, the familiar comfort of those home entertainments felt very far away. Anticipation fluttered in her belly, tingled through her fingertips.

Swallowing against the sensation, she allowed herself to be led onto the floor. She was not doing this to please herself, after all.

Dancing with him was simply the best way to keep Felicity safe.

* * * *

As he led her to her place in the ladies’ line and then bowed to her from the gentlemen’s, he could sense the eyes of the other dancers on them. He had fully expected his presence to invite attention, even speculation. He was accustomed to stares and whispers wherever he went.

But if he had imagined that it would be freeing to share the weight of scrutiny for once, he had certainly not anticipated the unfamiliar rush of protectiveness that replaced it, the desire to retrieve that heavy burden from the more delicate frame onto which it had unfairly fallen.

Not that he imagined Camellia too weak to bear it. But it could not have been clearer that she was unaccustomed to the load.

“I had not expected to dance this evening,” she confessed with a nervous twitch of her lips that might have been meant for a smile. “At least, not with you, Lord Ashborough.”

“You prefer to avoid the public eye.” His offer had been a selfish one, then. No, not even that, for dancing with her was against his own interests too.

He would much prefer to study her in private.

Her brow wrinkled. “The public eye? Why, I’m sure not a soul in this room has marked my existence. Their attention is all for you.”

Had he merely projected his own weakness onto every other man in the ballroom? He might have glanced around him to see if she was right—if he had been capable of looking away from her.

In contrast to the other women present, her dark hair was dressed simply, to the point of severity. Her spectacles caught the glare of the candlelight, effectively masking her best feature. And her dress was ill fitting, unbecoming, and at least a decade out of fashion, hastily made over from one of the countess’ castoffs, if he had to guess, and by someone with little skill with a needle, or else under orders not to reveal Miss Burke’s charms.

Further proof that Lady Merrick recognized the dangers of displaying her niece beside her daughter, of inviting comparison between interesting and insipid, sharp and dull.

Despite the dress, and despite her assurances, he could not quite convince himself that the collective eye of the assembly could overlook what was growing obvious to him: Camellia Burke’s extraordinary beauty. The blue-black sheen of her raven hair. The sparkle of her grass-green eyes. The promise of her slender body.

But would it be so surprising if the two hundred or so guests in Lady Montlake’s ballroom failed to see it? After all, she was teetering dangerously on the brink of spinsterhood; other men clearly had passed over this treasure of the Emerald Isle. By contrast, he had spent too much time since their stroll through Hyde Park imagining what it would be like to toss those wire-rimmed spectacles aside, tangle his fingers in the black silk of her hair, and put her curious tongue to better use than asking impertinent questions.

“You attend such entertainments frequently, I suppose?” she asked when the music began and the steps brought them together.

After their last encounter, he had not known whether to expect conversation—or rather, since she seemed never to be at a loss for words, he had not known what sort of conversation to expect. “No. My own small circle rarely intersects the broader realm of polite society,” he replied. “Foxy is my nearest brush with respectability.”

Pursed lips warred between amusement and disapproval. “One wonders which of you is more tarred by that brush.”

Fox. Unquestionably. If only she knew the number of times Gabriel had pleaded with him to forgo their friendship and save his own reputation. He surely would have had a preferment by now, perhaps something even more lucrative than the place that had been promised him, if not for his association with the infamous Lord Ash.

“Can you doubt how I suffer, Miss Burke?” he replied with forced glibness. “Ever under the watchful eye of our future clergyman? It’s a wonder I can dance at all.”

“Then I find myself doubly glad you asked me before my cousin,” she replied. “Once to save Lady Felicity from the uncomfortable scrutiny any partner of yours must endure.”

“Yes?” he encouraged, deliberately turning her toward him, rather than away as the dance demanded.