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“I am well.”
His eyes roamed over her face. “Are you?”
Fearful of what he might be seeing, Emmeline turned back towards Jane. “It would appear that your brother is concerned about me.”
“Since when?” Jane asked.
Oliver reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips. “Since Emme has turned into the most beautiful creature.”
Emmeline could feel her cheeks growing warm at Oliver’s blatant flirtation, but she knew it was just an act. Oliver was a notorious rake, and she knew he could not be trusted.
“Leave my friend alone,” Jane ordered, her voice taking on an edge. “Go flirt with the other women in the room.”
Not giving any heed to his sister, Oliver continued to hold her hand as he asked, “Would you care to dance the next set with me?”
Knowing it would be rude to refuse him, Emmeline replied, “It would be my privilege.”
“Liar,” he murmured.
“I beg your pardon?”
Oliver grinned knowingly. “It has always been easy enough to tell when you are lying.”
“How so?”
“I can’t reveal all of my secrets.” He took her hand, placed it into the crook of his arm and started leading her towards the dance floor. “I don’t believe I have ever had the privilege of dancing with you before.”
“That is not entirely true, my lord,” Emmeline said. “You danced with me when the dancing master came through our village.”
“Ah,” he replied. “How could I have forgotten that?”
“Perhaps because I was only ten years old.”
“How is it that you recall that so proficiently?”
Emmeline glanced over at him as she admitted, “I was so mortified because I kept stepping on your feet during the quadrille.”
“I hope your dancing has improved since then,” he said with humor in his voice.
She smiled mischievously. “Only slightly.”
“Then I am in trouble.” Oliver led her to where the dancers were lining up and smiled. “Just follow my lead and we can get through this most admirably.”
For the next while, Emmeline danced the steps of the quadrille and did so flawlessly. She found herself genuinely enjoying Oliver as a dance partner, perhaps because he made the most interesting facial expressions during the dance that were directed only towards her. Occasionally, he would lean closer and whisper encouragement.
The music came to a stop, and Emmeline watched as Oliver approached her and offered his arm. “Would you care to take a stroll in the gardens?” he asked.
“That sounds most enjoyable,” she replied.
As they stepped out of the ballroom, Emmeline saw Mrs. Jackson discretely following behind them.
Oliver glanced over at her and said, “You dance superbly. You didn’t step on my shoes once.”
“Not for a lack of trying.”
Chuckling, Oliver remarked, “I see that you haven’t lost your wit over the years.”
“If only; it has gotten worse, my lord,” Emmeline joked. “My aunt is constantly chiding me for my unruly behavior.”
