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“Pshaw!”
“Pshaw?” Jarvis let out a chuckle. “Very well, you doubting Thomas. What do you think I would rather be doing?”
“Playing cards with the gentlemen?”
“Perhaps.”
“Frolicking with a lady?” Olivia blinked flirtatiously.
Jarvis dropped his eyes to Olivia’s mouth. “Wouldn’t say no to that,” he muttered. His gaze intensified and his voice deepened.
Goosebumps traveled down her spine, and Olivia took a deep breath, for she suddenly lacked air. She felt… She didn’t know what she felt. It was a strange feeling indeed that made her tremble a little and out of breath.
“Perhaps we can make the best of it,” Jarvis said, unaware of her inner turmoil. “Whether Bradshaw shows up or not, we might as well enjoy ourselves. Shall we dance?”
Olivia grimaced, all the anxieties returning. It was one thing to dance with Jarvis in her ballroom, with no one but her mother to observe them. It was another thing entirely to do that in front of the people who dubbed her Graceless Livvie.
It was, however, imperative for her to practice in a crowd. And it was better, she mused, to do that while Bradshaw had not arrived. Because if she made a fool of herself in front of him, there would be no way to recover.
However, if she succeeded in snatching his attention, she’d have to dance with him either way and then she was bound to humiliate herself. Sweat broke out on her palms and down her back. Why was she doing all this again?
“Do not overthink it,” Jarvis said and stretched out his arm. “It’s just a simple cotillion. We’ve practiced it numerous times. Just look at the point beyond my head, and you’ll do well.”
Olivia took a deep breath, nodded, and placed her hand on Jarvis’s upturned palm. His reassuring heat gave her a sense of security. His sure grip helped her feel balanced. Then he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and Olivia was able to draw a breath.
Why couldn’t she feel this comfortable with everyone?
They joined the couples in the middle of the dancefloor and quickly got swept away by the dance.
“One, two, twirl,” Jarvis mouthed in time with the music, and Olivia laughed.
She started counting the steps and the moves together with Jarvis throughout the entire dance. Olivia forgot to be self-conscious; she forgot where she was supposed to look because Jarvis was smiling at her and entertained her with his facial expressions.
They danced and laughed, and they hopped from one place to another, not exactly to the music, not as gracefully as she would have liked, twirling and sidestepping around each other. But she was enjoying herself and not worrying about other people’s glances.
Had she ever had this much fun dancing? If she had, she did not remember it.
When the last note of the melody echoed throughout the ballroom, they ended up facing each other once more. Olivia was trying hard to contain her breath. Her heart was drumming madly inside her chest.
Jarvis looked more composed, but his gaze was intent. At that moment, a movement caught her eye behind her friend’s back, and she saw a gentleman enter the ballroom. Happiness filled her heart.
He was finally here.
Olive stood flushed and rosy in front of Jarvis. Her eyes glowed in happiness, her lush lips slightly parted, expelling a ragged breath. She was painting him a rather lurid picture of how she’d look right after a satisfying romp in the sack.
Jarvis wanted nothing more than to grab her right there, in the middle of the crowded ballroom, and kiss her senseless. Then, he would drag her away and prove to himself that’s indeed what she looked like after a passionate hour—or three—in his bed.
At that moment, however, her eyes slid to the side, and her mouth split in a radiant smile. She clasped her hands in front of her as she contained herself not to run away from this spot, and he knew. Their time enjoying the ball was over.
Now was the time for a ruse to get the gentleman she actually wanted. No, to get an idiot she actually wanted, Jarvis corrected himself mentally. Because anyone who hadn’t already seen how unique and wonderful she was was no more than that.
Expelling a fortifying sigh, Jarvis extended a hand toward Olive. She readily placed her hand on his arm and leaned in to whisper closer to him. The scent of her sweet jasmine perfume, mixed with her own lovely scent, sent pleasurable shivers down his spine. And her slightly lowered voice, that intimate lilt, made him want to groan. If only her words were less painful, he might have done so.
“Bradshaw just came in,” she said, her eyes still locked on the object of her desire. “Escort me toward Lady Caroline, please. She said she’d take care of the introductions.”
“Certainly,” Jarvis forced out and took the indicated direction; all the while, his instinct was screaming to take Olivia and flee, as far from the ballroom as he could.
Nevertheless, they reached Lady Caroline, and Olivia whispered something in her ear.
