Page 7 of Unmask Me My Love

“What are you doing?” She wobbled, off balance.

“Nothing.” Hal grabbed her tighter to keep her from falling. Ah, thank goodness, it was Lady Carlisle in brown beside the chair there, not the little damoiselle.

“Let me go.” She hissed. “People are going to stare. And if you compromise me, I’ll make sure I’m a widow not long after I’m a wife.”

“Don’t get your feathers ruffled. I don’t want to marry you.” He maneuvered them around a group of dancers who seemed to be all but standing still. “Furthest thing from my mind.”

“Then slow down, for pity’s sake.” She stepped on his foot, and pain shot up his shin.

“Ouch. Behave, and I will also.” Easier said than done. Once he started a waltz, the lovely rhythm made him want to fly around the room. Still, he managed to lessen their speed to a tempo more in keeping with the rest of the dancers.

“So, who is seeking an introduction to the duke?” Celinda eyed him as they paused in a balance step.

“A lady.”

“What?” Celinda tried to halt, her mouth slightly agape, but he urged her on around the room.

“After you left the balcony, someone else appeared. Another young woman.”

“Indeed.” Her eyebrows arched, her tone a trifle cool. “How fortunate for you, Hal.”

“It truly was.” The thought of the beautiful French woman set his heart on fire.

“You’re smiling like an idiot.”

“I know. I can’t stop.” He picked up their pace again. His feet had wings tonight because of the damoiselle.

Abruptly, Celinda grasped his hand and pulled him off the dance floor. They’d come full circle, back to the far end of the room where he’d found her. Miss Locke and Lord Finley were nowhere to be seen. With a groan, Celinda made for the French doors that let onto the rear terraces, Hal in tow.

“What are you doing?” He didn’t protest much. It would be easier to convince her to help if he could talk to her face to face.

“Trying to get some sense out of you without making a spectacle of ourselves.” She drew him toward a more secluded corner.

A dangerous place. If anyone found them here, they would have no choice but to marry.

Hal held his breath, listening for others who might also have availed themselves of the garden’s sanctuary. Only the peaceful night sounds of crickets and the faint snorting of horses in the stables filled the air. “Celinda, we must be brief. If we are discovered here—”

“Oh, mark me, we will not be. So talk fast. You met a young woman on the balcony who wishes to meet my godfather?” She spoke low and slowly.

“Yes.”

“And you have developed a tendre for this girl in the half hour since I left you?” This question came sharp and crisp, with a knowing smirk in her voice.

“Why would you say that?” He took a step backward into the shadows. It might be too dark for her to see him clearly, but he wouldn’t chance it.

“The look on your face just now, when I said you were smiling like an idiot. I knew.” Her voice grew harsh with disapproval.

“And how long did it take you, pray tell, to form an attachment to Lord Finley?” Hal shot back. “You met him only this evening as well.”

“That is totally different.” Her defensive tone confirmed all his suspicions about her regard for Finley.

“Somehow, I doubt that. Come, Celinda,” he said, drawing close enough to her that she was more than just a faint outline and voice. “Please help me.”

“Who is this young lady? Do I know her?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You haven’t proposed to her as well, have you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. Knowing him as she did, she would think to ask that. “No, you do not know her, and no, I have only proposed to you this evening—so far.”

“Hal!”