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“You will need to think of something to say to Miss Dowding, because she can’t keep asking questions,” Oliver warned. “It could jeopardize both of our covers.”
“I am well aware of that fact.”
With a concerned look, Oliver said, “We both know what Corbyn would say about this.”
“I do,” Baldwin replied, frowning. “He would say ‘deal with it, or I will deal with it for you’.”
Baldwin watched as Miss Dowding was escorted back to her companion by Lord Whitmore. A group of gentlemen were already waiting to speak to her, and she politely acknowledged them with a smile. But he could tell it wasn’t genuine.
“The next dance is the waltz, you know,” Oliver revealed.
“I hadn’t realized that.”
Oliver placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “You might want to ask her to dance before someone else does.”
“I hate dancing,” Baldwin muttered.
“True, but ladies generally enjoy it,” Oliver teased.
Miss Dowding glanced his way, and their eyes met. He watched, transfixed, as her green eyes sparkled under the candlelight. In the next moment, he found himself walking purposefully as he made his way over to her.
Stopping in front of her, he extended his gloved hand and asked, “Would you care to dance, Miss Dowding?”
She glanced down at his proffered hand before saying, “I apologize, but this set is taken.”
“By whom?” he growled.
“Mr. Thatcher has requested this set,” she replied, gesturing towards a lanky young man standing nearby.
Turning his gaze towards Mr. Thatcher, Baldwin remarked in a stern voice, “I am sure that Mr. Thatcher will graciously step aside until the next dance. Won’t you?”
A flicker of fear came to Mr. Thatcher’s eyes. “I do not mind, my lord,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly.
“Excellent,” Baldwin replied as he returned his attention to Miss Dowding. “Shall we?”
As he led them towards the dance floor, Miss Dowding murmured, “Poor Mr. Thatcher. That was poorly done on your part.”
“I asked, and he offered to dance the next set with you.”
She huffed. “You practically threatened the poor man.”
“I did not,” he argued, glancing over at her. “Trust me when I say that when I threaten someone, you will most assuredly know.”
Baldwin stopped in the middle of the dance floor, brought her left arm up, and slid his hand around her waist. He heard her slight intake of breath at his touch, which pleased him immensely. Perhaps she wasn’t as immune to his charms as he had led himself to believe.
The music began, and Baldwin started leading her around the floor. “You dance superbly,” he praised.
“Thank you,” she replied as her gaze darted around the room.
“I must admit that I haven’t danced the waltz in over three years.”
“Well, it doesn’t show, my lord.”
Baldwin frowned. Why in the blazes is she avoiding my gaze, he wondered. He cleared his throat. “My brother mentioned that you might have some questions for me.”
Her eyes snapped towards his. “I do.”
“By all means, ask away,” he replied, finding himself pleased that she was now looking at him.
