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I turned to find Mr. Beesley, a gentleman I had known when I lived at Chelton before. He’d grown taller since I’d seen him last, and his smile was very handsome. I dipped in a curtsy. “Good evening, Mr. Beesley. You look very well.”
“I intended to make the same remark to you. Is your next set spoken for, or might I have the honor of claiming it?”
“You may.”
I danced that set with Mr. Beesley, the following with Mr. Knox, and the supper dance with Mr. Davidson. All the while Benedict danced each set with various young ladies, and each of them smiled up at him in revolting admiration until the last, and I had to face away from his blatant flirtations during supper so I did not lose my meal.
“Do you intend to remain at Chelton for long?” Mr. Davidson asked, a local farmer who had recently taken over from his father because of an extreme degradation of the older man’s arthritis.
“I have found that it is better for me not to plan too far into the future, for in my case, the future has never been predictable.”
His blond eyebrows arched up. “You sound like a gypsy.”
I could take great offense at that, but he was correct. “I feel like it, too.” I caught Felicity’s eye across the table, her curiosity spearing me, and I cleared my throat. “Though I believe we intend to travel to London for the Season, so I will remain at Chelton until then, at least.”
“Another month?” he questioned.
Less than a month. The Season felt like it was slipping closer to me at a rate faster than I was prepared for. “I believe it has been discussed that Parliament resumes on the twenty-seventh of January. So it is a safe assumption that we will leave for London before then. Though Lady Edith remarked that the best balls do not take place until a few weeks after Parliament resumes, of course.”
He nodded, considering. “Do you enjoy Bakewell, Miss Northcott?”
“Yes, excessively. It is most charming, is it not?” I appeared to have said the correct thing, for Mr. Davidson beamed at me.
When we returned to the hall for more dancing, Mr. Davidson left me to see to his next partner, and Benedict sidled up beside me, so close I could feel his arm brush against the back of my shoulder. “Do you often have a habit of instilling hope into gentlemen who do not stand a chance of winning your affections, or have I entirely misread the situation?”
“Good heavens, Ben.” I kept my gaze on the couples forming lines in the middle of the room for the dance. “Whatever are you referring to?”
“Calling Davidsoncharmingwas unkind if you do not mean anything by it.”
My umbrage knew no bounds. “You misheard me. I called Bakewell charming.”
“He was not asking about Bakewell.”
“He certainly sounded like he was when he asked me if I likedBakewell.”
“That was an attempt to make out your interest,” he said quietly, his deep feeling growing more evident with each word. “After accepting him for the supper dance, it is only expected.”
I brushed off his words, though they planted a little unease within me. “Your secret language is not known to all, and I highly doubt Mr. Davidson meant it the way you imply.”
“Doubt me all you’d like, but I do know a bit about flirtation, and I can, with confidence, assure you that you have taken his measure wrong if you do not believe that he was hoping to gauge your interest.”
“Because you know him so well?”
Benedict was quiet for a moment. He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “No. Because I watched the way he looked at you.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly growing dry against the intensity in his blue eyes, as rich and deep as the ocean I’d crossed to return to England. My words scraped out in a whisper. “How did he look at me, exactly?”
Benedict lowered his voice more, his breath tickling my ear. “Like a man in love.”
Chapter16
BENEDICT
“He cannot love me. He does not know me,” Thea argued, trying for a light tone despite the evidence that I had unnerved her. I immediately regretted my words. I did not know what madness had forced them out of me, except that the extreme jealousy that had built and mounted during each dance she partook of finally erupted, and I could no longer contain it.
“He does not have to know you to believe himself in love,” I countered. If anyone in this room was enraptured with Thea, it was Davidson. Even now, the man stood on the far end of the room, watching her over the shoulder of the woman he was in conversation with.
“You cannot truly believe that you, of all people, have the authority to tell me not to flirt with a gentleman?” Thea turned to face me, her dark eyebrows lifted above her perfectly icy eyes. “You, who have flirted in excess with each woman you’ve danced with this evening.”
