Page 63 of To Steal a Kiss

“Well?” he repeated. “What do you mean by coming out tonight looking like a blasted goddess? Every man here wants you, and you’ve danced with half of them. I’m hard pressed to know who to call out first,” he grumbled, and though she knew he was teasing, she realised it was only in part.

“You’re jealous?” she said in surprise, having never expected such a thing from him.

“Of course I’m bloody well jealous,” he said, looking adorably sulky. “Matilda glares at me if I so much as look in your direction and I have to sit here and suffer every fool who stares at you like you’re the last cake on the plate. It’s intolerable.”

It was impossible not to smile at him, and she hoped Helena was still enduring her mother’s conversation, because she knew her heart must be in her eyes. With every bit of courage she possessed, Alice lowered her gaze and her voice.

“I can’t wait to be in your bed, Nate,” she said, the words low and husky.

Nate stumbled.

It was only for a moment, and she doubted anyone but her could tell, but she could, and she couldn’t help her triumphant burst of laughter. Colour touched his cheeks, which was most endearing of all, as he huffed and looked sheepish.

“That was a dirty trick,” he muttered as Alice bit her lip, staring at his cravat with determination to hold her amusement in check. “And you’ll pay for it tomorrow night.”

When she dared look up at him, that wicked light was back in his eyes, giving weight to his words. She shivered in his arms, a delicious thrill of anticipation that made her sigh.

“Oh, God, stop looking at me like that,” he protested, sucking in a deep breath, “or we’ll not make it till tomorrow. I shall abduct you from the blasted ballroom and it will be an anvil wedding and ruination en route.”

“Sounds divine,” Alice said, undisguised longing behind the words.

“Have mercy, love,” Nate replied with feeling. Deciding he’d best make her breathless to stop her talking, he swept Alice into a complicated series of dizzying turns that did just that.

Smiling, she simply enjoyed the sensation of flying in his arms, and dreamed of the day to come.

***

It was long past midnight by the time Alice joined her mother in the carriage home.

“Well, you were certainly popular tonight,” her mother said, looking her over, not entirely approving. “You’ve been hiding your light under a bushel, I see. With how you were tonight you might have caught yourself a title, you know,” she said with a frustrated sniff. “Still, what’s done is done.”

“What do you mean?” Alice asked, frowning a little.

“That Mr Bindley is coming tomorrow to propose to you, of course,” she said, giving Alice an impatient look. “We told you it would happen soon enough.”

“What time tomorrow?” Swallowing down a bubble of anxiety, Alice struggled to keep her voice nonchalant.

“He’s coming to dine with us, so I told him to arrive a little early. You can accept his proposal and then we can celebrate over dinner.”

“Oh,” Alice said in relief, as her mother’s sharp eyes fixed on her. “Oh, it’s only that I shall be out in the morning. I’ve arranged to see Prunella,” she added, knowing her mother would never keep her from an appointment with a duchess. “Bedwin is coming too.”

“The duke and the duchess,” her mother said, preening at the idea. “Well, naturally you cannot disappoint them. Just make sure you are home in time for Bindley.”

Alice mumbled something incomprehensible and then pretended to doze. Lying to her mother was not something she enjoyed doing… well, perhaps just a little, she admitted. However, she was not past realising it was a dishonest and wretched way to go on, but needs must when the devil drives, she thought with a sigh, and then grinned. Or when Mr Bindley comes calling.

***

“Come on, a night cap before you leave,” the duke said, ushering Matilda and Nate into a private sitting room as the last of the guests dispersed.

Nate sat down with a sigh, as Matilda settled beside Prue.

“Are you all right?” Prue asked, reaching out to touch Matilda’s cheek. “You look rather pale.”

Now Prue mentioned it, Matilda seemed a little out of sorts. He’d been so preoccupied with his own upcoming nuptials that he’d not seen much of his sister.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Matilda replied, a smile at her lips which was not altogether convincing. “Just weary, that’s all.”

“Montagu didn’t bother you, did he?” Bedwin asked, turning to look at her with a frown.