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Did the duke actually like her?
She liked him too. At least she thought so.
She’d meant what she’d said earlier about not minding his sharpness. The thing about being quiet was that an advocate was often welcome.
Not that she considered him an actual option for a suitor. He was far too grand for her and...
They began to move together, finding the steps as they both went quiet.
His hand was strong on her back as he led her through the dance. She stared at the cords of his neck, the powerful set of his shoulders as they spun together. But she could have closed her eyes and just felt. His steps were sure and, in his arms, she relaxed. Forgot about the crowd and their gazes. Forgot about the hundred questions her mother was sure to ask tonight.
Her skirts swished about her legs, brushing against his as they moved. Part of her wanted to talk for once. To tell him how much she liked dancing with him but she kept quiet, not wishing to break the harmony of the moment.
All too soon, however, the music ended and they came to a stop. Looking up at him, she sighed in contentment.
But his face was unreadable. Had he not enjoyed their dance as much? She nipped at her lower lip as he tucked her hand in his arm, telling herself that it didn’t matter.
But she couldn’t help but wonder what was he thinking and how did she ask? “Did you know that Mrs. Derby made some delightful tartlets for dessert?”
He looked over at her. “Did she?”
“I couldn’t help her. My mother wouldn’t allow it after the bread pudding, but I was able to go into the kitchen long enough to see the finished desserts. They look delightful.”
“Something good came out of our bread pudding disaster?”
“Definitely.” She smiled, relieved. “Not only do we get tartlets for dessert but we had a lovely dance because of our meeting earlier. Thank you.”
“You’re thanking me for that dance?”
There it was. His tone had hardened again. Why? “You didn’t like it?”
He leaned close. “I muffed the beginning. Surely you’ve had far better dances than that.”
She nipped at her lip again as she gave him a sidelong glance. How did she explain without giving away too much? She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression but he deserved to know how much she’d enjoyed his company. “Yes but…with you.” She swallowed. “Our dance was comfortable. Which I greatly appreciated.”
“Comfortable?” He grimaced. “People do not usually find me so.”
She tried out several responses in her thoughts but finally settled for changing the subject. “Now tell me what you enjoy. Besides numbers.”
He relaxed next to her. “I also like a good walk. To ride about my estate. I…” He slowed, giving her a slow grin. “But I want to hear more about you.”
“Me?”
“Do you like the country or London more?”
She shook her head. “Country. London is so…”
“Crowded?”
She laughed. “And smelly.”
He laughed too. “That it is.”
And thus began a conversation that lasted most of the way through supper. Her mother and aunt were seated nearby, and both women looked exceptionally pleased with the way Evie and the duke were getting on.
Evie was pleased too.
His rich baritone voice and likeminded thinking had been extremely pleasant while his deep, dark eyes and the memory of his hand at her waist intermittently made her breathless. She didn’t have to want to marry him to enjoy his company. And he made her dream in ways she hadn’t before, which was lovely. Someday she’d find a man who could give her a real future.
