Page 20 of A Gifted Earl

Chapter Seven

He led her to the dance floor without hesitation, and they took up their positions as the music began. This dance started with them facing each other, one hand linked. He looked at her, truly looked at her, rather than avoiding her face, and a shocking thrill went through her. All her life, people had looked at her like this, and she had never appreciated it, until now, after weeks of people flinching from the sight of her scar.

For a moment she was on the edge of tears from gratitude. Then she drew in a breath as they began to move, and collected herself. What puzzled her most was why he did not react as others did – why could he look at her scar without being horrified by it?

Could it be because… because he knew it would be there? Because he had seen it before….?

But surely he could not be the man who had sewn it…

She was drawing mad conclusions from the fact that he was kind, after so many had been cruel. Mentally, she gave herself a shake – she should be sensible, and simply enjoy the moment and not allow herself to create wishful dreams. It was a moment worth enjoying, for he danced well.

The dance brought them face to face again, and he smiled.

“Do you enjoy social occasions, Lady Venetia?”

Should she tell him the truth? She wanted to…

“I… have not been about in society much, my Lord – my come-out was delayed by our mourning for my father – so I do not really know if I might enjoy such things. So far, my experience has been… not as pleasant as I had hoped.”

They turned, and a little frown crossed his face.

“I do hope that I am improving that situation, rather than making it worse?”

He sounded as if he actually cared! Venetia laughed softly, utterly captivated by the attention of a man who seemed to consider her feelings.

“You are indeed improving the situation, my Lord.”

He smiled then.

“I am relieved to hear it. I fear that, after all of those introductions, I will be rather busy dancing with many young ladies – but perhaps we might dance again at the next Ball we both attend, without causing gossip?”

Venetia found that her mouth was suddenly dry – so dry that she could not speak. He wanted to dance with her again? Was that really what he had just suggested? A bubble of happiness rose within her – perhaps, just perhaps, she was not so utterly doomed as she had thought.

“Yes, I would enjoy dancing with you again. But… I… I did not expect that you would be so kind as to dance with all of those to whom you were introduced. Most gentlemen are not so courteous…”

As soon as she spoke, she wished that she hadn’t, for it was a very forward and improper thing to have said! But, rather than looking annoyed as she had expected, he gave a wry smile.

“I fear that I do not fit the common behaviour of most gentlemen of the ton. I have spent much of my life away from society.”

That was curious. Where had he spent his life? She remembered, then, the conversation of the older ladies, where one had remarked that he had come into his title unexpectedly, when his uncle and the uncle’s whole family had died. What had he done, where had he been, before he became Earl? She wanted to know, but it was most rude and improper to even consider asking. So she asked nothing about it.

“I, for one, prefer your conversation and manner to that of most gentlemen of the ton, so perhaps, being different is not a bad thing?”

He gave a soft laugh then.

“I am glad that you think so.”

At that point, the dance came to an end, and her opportunity for conversation was removed. They walked back to her mother, and she wondered if he had truly meant the suggestion that they should dance again. She hoped that he had, rather desperately.

They stopped, and the cluster of other young ladies watched as he released her and bowed, their expressions hopeful, and almost predatory. In that moment, she almost pitied him, for if he intended to dance with each one of them, then he would be subject to a variety of conversation, and no doubt to some degree of future hopefulness as well. Would his kindness be strong enough to carry him through all of it?

And, most importantly of all, would he want to dance with any of them again, or was that honour reserved only for Venetia?

*****

The dance had gone well, he thought, although he wished that he had been able to be a better conversationalist. Yet another skill which he had not really needed, in his previous life! Yet she had seemed happy – indeed there had been a moment at the beginning of the dance when a smile had lit her face, making her truly beautiful, in a manner that no scar could diminish.

He just wished that he understood what he had done to cause that smile.