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Chapter 3
Jo smiled politely at the gentlemen she danced with and engaged in polite conversation, but her mind was not with her dancing partners. Her thoughts kept sliding back to the enigmatic young viscount who kept looking at her during the entire ball.
It was impolite, to say the least, to stare at her so brazenly, but he didn’t seem to care. His dark blue eyes watched her from the corner of the ballroom, devouring her with his gaze.
He was young, handsome, and virile. His posture was straight, his demeanor arrogant, as if he owned everything and everyone in the ballroom. He had a few silver strands in his hair, adding to the air of confidence, maturity, and experience that he promised to unleash on her with his gaze. And it was flattering to receive his full regard, but Jo felt as though she was being hunted. As if he were the lion and she the stag. And she found that feeling thrilling, if a little disturbing.
She’d learned a little more about him during the ball, gathering whispers here and there. His peers had nothing bad to say about him, and there was no gossip attached to his name, except the scandalous marriages of his sisters. And even then he stood out as a supportive brother and a gracious head of the household.
He truly seemed like a proper sort of gentleman. Except that proper gentlemen did not brazenly stare at actresses as if they wanted to ravish them in the middle of the ballroom. It was clear that what the viscount wanted was a bit of fun during the house party. But he would have to seek someone else to indulge his appetites.
Jo did not get involved with aristocrats for a reason.
Right?
She peeked a glance at him again. He was still staring at her. The cad!
Jo spun around and faced her dancing partner, who was saying something about his horses. “How fascinating, Lord Pelham!”
Lord Pelham beamed at her and continued his one-sided conversation.
She was going to have to endure ten more days of this house party. It wouldn’t hurt to flirt with a charming viscount, would it? Josephine cringed inwardly.
That’s what I thought last time.
She shook herself mentally. No, the last time she’d thought she was in love… And more importantly, she’d thought he was as well. She was more experienced now. Surely she wouldn’t make the same mistake.
What am I doing?
It was rather obvious what she was doing. She was finding excuses to flirt with the captivating viscount.
The dance had ended, and she curtsied, fanning her hot cheeks vigorously. She had to make her decision fast. Because the viscount was now approaching her with a purposeful stride.
His demeanor was so different from every other lord. He was a viscount, not a duke. Not even an earl. And yet, people stepped aside to make way for him.
Josephine swallowed.
That arrogance paired with the man’s handsomeness always spelled trouble for the fair sex. He stopped right in front of her and stretched out his arm. “Shall we?”
Should they?
Josephine blinked up and smiled. “We shall.”
She placed her hand on his sleeve, and he escorted her back to the dance floor. People were watching them curiously, heads bowed toward each other, no doubt discussing their assumptions about the pair.
Josephine didn’t mind the wagging tongues most of the time. They liked to pair her with different lords every week, but none of the rumors stuck. At least, not so far.
She was very careful to bestow just the right amount of attention to different men so that nobody would be singled out by her.
Somehow, it felt different now.
And it felt even more different when the first bars of the waltz struck and the viscount swept her into the dance.
His hand was burning through the layers of clothing at her back, his other hand was cradling hers firmly, yet tenderly. And his gaze…
Well, that man was staring right into her soul.
“I hope this is enough penance in your mind to account for the humiliation you allegedly suffered,” she said with a smile, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
