Page 20 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

“But you see now how incapacitating a simple dance can be.” Haversham shook his head, his eyes gleaming with mirth. “Only think how much worse a waltz would’ve been for your indisposition?”

Kate rolled her eyes. Would the man never let that topic rest? “I would hardly call The Eightsome Reel a simple dance. However, I assure you, I am quite ready to dance again.”

“Excellent. Then I would request the honor of partnering you for the supper dance, Miss Locke.”

Kate blinked several times. Had she heard him correctly? “I…I…” She’d left that dance open for Lord Finley. Where the devil was the man? She’d seen him once or twice from a distance but hadn’t spoken to him tonight. Her faintness, or whatever had come over her, had made her lose track of the charming viscount.

“Yes, Miss Locke. You.” Haversham chuckled, his eyebrows quirked at her as though she were an idiot.

Kate rallied, stepping back from him and snapping her fan open. “I do not think that would be wise, my lord. We would have danced three times, and people would talk.” She especially did not wish to find out if that peculiar heat would return if he touched her. A disturbing sensation she could still imagine she felt.

“Since it would only be our second dance this evening, I do not think we will draw undue comment.” His smug face irritated her more each second.

“I don’t—”

“Kate!” Lady Celinda pushed her way through a knot of chattering ladies and grabbed Kate by the arm, pulling her away from the aggravating earl. “I beg your pardon, my lady. My lord.” She dropped a curtsy first to Letitia then to Haversham. “Please excuse me, but I must speak with Miss Locke directly. It’s a matter of utmost urgency.”

“By all means—”

Without pausing for Haversham to answer, Celinda propelled Kate down the crowded room, dodging guests as best she could. When they came to a relatively secluded space of wall, Kate slowed and swung her cousin around to face her.

“All right, Celinda. Stop, for goodness’ sake. You will tear my gown with this incessant pulling.” Kate straightened herself and glanced back down the ballroom, but the crush of people obscured her sight of Lord Haversham. What must he think of that abrupt departure? She shouldn’t have cared, but somehow, she did.

“Oh, Kate. I simply had to tell you. You will never believe it.” Her usually sedate, cool-headed cousin was almost jumping up and down in her little pink slippers.

“Celinda, what has gotten into you?” A quick look around told her no one marked them; however, that could change at any moment. Such a public display of emotion could get a lady talked about.

“Lord Finley.”

Kate’s heart gave a huge thump. While she’d been sparring with Lord Haversham, the object of her true interest had been whisked away. She’d not even had a chance to impress the dashing viscount, and now Celinda had probably already secured his affections.

“Has he proposed to you?” She tried to sound enthusiastic, although the unfairness of the situation rankled sorely. Such a declaration would be unusual on this short an acquaintance, yet not completely unprecedented. What else would make her cousin as twitchy as a worm in hot ashes?

“What? Oh, no. But I so wish he had!” Celinda beamed, pink spots blooming on both cheeks.

Kate released a silent sigh. All might not yet be lost.

“Papa could not help but accept his suit,” Celinda prattled on, the dreamy look in her eyes rather alarming. Her cousin seemed a fair way toward being totally in alt over the man.

“So if not a proposal, what did Lord Finley do?” There was little else that could cause such an expression on Celinda’s face except— “Celinda! You didn’t let him kiss you?”

Dear Lord, if someone had seen them, her cousin would be snared for life, forced to marry the gentleman no matter if he later turned out to be neither suitable nor a gentleman.

“Why, Kate. No, of course not.” The dreamy quality in Celinda’s eyes vanished, replaced by shock. “I would never have let him do that.”

Good. At least her cousin hadn’t lost her sense of propriety. Kate glanced about, looking for eavesdroppers. They could not be too careful.

“Although, I certainly would not have minded had he tried.”

“Celinda,” Kate hissed, smiling at Lady Constance Farrow, who had cut her eyes toward them as she passed by. Once the lady had continued, she returned her attention to Celinda. “You had best behave yourself.” The evening was turning into more of a disaster than she’d ever believed. “Now tell me exactly what Lord Finley did.”

“He asked me for the first waltz then he asked for the supper dance as well.” Celinda rose up on her toes, and for a stricken moment, Kate feared she’d perform a full pirouette. Instead, she snapped open her fan and waved it so vigorously Kate could feel the breeze.

Thank goodness it was no worse than a supper dance. The supper dance she’d hoped Lord Finley would ask her for. Dismay washed through her, dimming the luster of the evening. Although Finley had merely asked for a dance from her cousin, to have requested it so early in the festivities and on such short acquaintance with Celinda spoke eloquently about his regard for her. He certainly hadn’t sought Kate out tonight. Perhaps he had seen her dancing with Lord Haversham and misconstrued it. Hoist with her own petard. The Bard’s phrase rang eerily true for her.

“Isn’t that wonderful, Kate?” Celinda peering into her face brought her out of her thoughts.

“Yes, of course it is.” She must try to be happy for her cousin, but her body suddenly weighed her down, as though she’d sink to the floor and not rise again.