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Emma tilted her head and stared at her as if she had horns on her head. “Not yet.”
“Perhaps we should dance now,” Bolton replied, smiling down at Emma.
“May I have this dance?”
Louisa turned to find Harry staring down at her with a scowl lining his face. “I thought you were going to wait a few minutes more?”
“There was a line for the privacy of Lord Huntley’s study.” He held out his arm for her before leaning in closer. “What the bloody hell were you doing with Ainsley?”
“Harry,” she admonished him in whispered tones. “He knows about me visiting you and using his name as an excuse for the Gringhams.”
“Ainsley is a rogue.”
“He is in town to find a wife.” She decided not to tell him much about her conversation with his friend until after she listened to Ainsley’s idea.
“Well, it won’t be you.” He pulled her a bit too close as the waltz was about to begin.
“Why not?” Harry seemed not to mind if she married Collingwood. At least Ainsley would be a far more interesting husband. “Is an earl too high for me to reach?”
“Not Ainsley.”
“You are irrational.”
“Yes, I am,” he whispered. “Dear God, Louisa, you touched me...intimately. Completely inappropriately.”
“I was there.”
“And I loved it,” he said, leaning far too close to her ear.
“Stop this nonsense!” Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
“I want to pleasure you, Louisa.”
She felt as if her knees were about to give out. How she kept dancing without stumbling, she had no idea. “You must stop, Your Grace. People might hear you.”
“As long as you hear me, I don’t care.”
“I do believe you are completely and utterly foxed,” she added, praying this dance would end quickly.
“Just drunk on you.”
Oh, dear God, she might faint. “You must stop, Your Grace. People are starting to stare.”
“Let them.”
Not even logic was working on him tonight. As soon as this dance ended, Louisa would deliver him directly to his sister. Lady Radley could take care of him. But this had to be the longest set ever. At one point, he pulled her up against his body, and she could feel his manhood hardening again. If she was not careful, she would end up in bed with him.
A part of her wanted that most desperately.
Finally, the dance ended, and Lady Radley approached. “Lady Radley, thank God,” she said softly. “I do believe your brother is feeling a tad under the weather.”
“Yes, Miss Drake,” Lady Radley said with a disapproving frown. “I think you are correct.”
“Daphne, have you met Miss Drake?” Harry said with a slight slur to his words.
“Come along, Harry. You need to go home now.” Lady Radley led him away as Louisa watched, half-wishing she could be the one to escort him home.
“Miss Drake, may I have the next dance?”
