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He threw back his head and burst into laughter. Mortified, Evelina quickly scanned the dance floor and caught a few inquisitive looks coming their way.
“People are staring.”
“Let them.”
Her gaze shifted back to his face and caught him beaming down at her. It gave her pause as she silently acknowledged how truly handsome he was.
Swiftly looking away, she said in a hushed voice, “Your smile.”
“Pardon?”
“You have a nice smile.”
He slowly offered her one. “Just nice, eh?”
She nodded and focused on counting again.
“How nice?”
She missed a step.
With an annoyed sigh, she ardently wished the waltz would just finish already.
“Simply nice. What else is there to say?”
“You need to work on your words of flattery, Miss Hepworth.”
“And you should work on your ego.”
Again, he threw back his head and let out a loud laugh. Self-consciously, she swiftly looked to the other dancers before hissing, “Must you do that?”
“What? You don’t like the sound of my laughter?”
This made her pause. Actually, she rather liked it. A lot. Just not in a crowded room where it drew so much attention.
“Your laughter is fine it is the loudness to which I have an aversion to.”
“Really?” He glanced around. “I rather like letting people know I am enjoying myself.”
She frowned, confused by the unexpected bout of envy she felt at those words. Why would she be jealous of his ability to be openly happy?
“Have we danced long enough?”
“The song has not ended.”
“My legs hurt.”
“What a pretty little liar you are, my lady.”
“Well, you refuse to accept my truth.”
He chuckled. “I suppose I must concede to that. I shall let you off easily but only on the condition you give your poor legs rest so that they may be ready for our next assigned dance.”
“Fine.”
“I want you to prepare a compliment about me for when we meet again.”
“Pardon me?”
