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She sighed, releasing her disappointment. Of course there was nothing romantic between the two. Their families knew one another, and it made sense that the viscount would seek to hold himself separate from the other women present.
“At least you’re no longer in danger of having your head turned by another woman.”
John’s gaze was deadly serious when he said, “There was never a danger of that happening when you have well and truly ensnared me.”
She stopped worrying about everyone else then because the man who held her, drawing her a fraction closer to his body than was seemly, captured her full attention.
She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she wouldn’t place that burden on him. Men were practical creatures, and it would only disappoint her to hear the words repeated back to her when she wasn’t certain if he meant them. But he did care for her, that much was obvious, and it was enough.
* * *
Ashford wasn’t surprisedby his friend’s announcement. Not really. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the man’s secrecy. He’d seen with his own eyes that Evans and Miss Weston were close, but Ashford hadn’t realized he’d planned to make an announcement that evening.
Lowenbrock, he corrected himself. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the fact that his friend had unexpectedly inherited a marquisate and everything that went along with it. It was the stuff of fairy tales.
Of everyone he’d ever met, Lowenbrock deserved it most. He and Cranston teased him about his chivalrous tendencies, but in truth Ashford admired the man. If he were ever in need of assistance, he’d call on this man first above all others. Cranston was a close second.
Still, it rankled that the man hadn’t warned him about what he’d planned for the evening. Likely because Lowenbrock had known he would have stayed away from this infernal event if he even suspected the man intended to announce his betrothal. Because once that happened, all eyes had turned to him and Cranston. But Cranston was only a baron, and so in that moment Ashford had become the most eligible, and sought-after, bachelor present.
Damn the man. Ashford was torn between congratulating him and strangling him, especially after being approached by yet another man who wasted no time in waxing poetic about his eldest daughter’s attributes. He’d even come right out and said she would make an ideal viscountess.
Lowenbrock and Miss Weston danced a waltz after the announcement. But the set would come to an end soon, and Ashford didn’t miss the way several females had inched closer to him. Too close for his comfort. He wasn’t a shy man and had his share of intimate liaisons with the fairer sex, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could get away with any of his flirtations here. Even the slightest hint that he found any of the women attractive—and how could he not when several of them were almost falling out of their dresses?—would be taken as encouragement to pursue a match. And that was the last thing Ashford wanted. After spending ten years in service, he planned to enjoy his freedom for some time yet before taking on the yoke of marriage.
Lowenbrock’s sisters had joined their husbands for the waltz. Cranston, damn his hide, was enjoying the attention and was dancing with one of the younger women. One whose father made no secret of the fact that he wanted a match between his daughter and Ashford, so Cranston no doubt knew he was safe from the family’s marital machinations.
He scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of Miss Trenton standing off to one side, alone. Her lips were turned up in a fond smile, making no secret of the fact she was happy for her friend. Even if he hadn’t known her when she was much younger, the fact she wasn’t gazing at him with speculation would have been enough to gain his attention.
She didn’t seem to notice him when he stopped next to her.
“Miss Trenton,” he said with a bow.
She raised a hand to her chest and frowned at him. “You did that on purpose. I suppose I should consider myself lucky I didn’t yelp in surprise.”
He smiled. This was the kind of conversation he could handle. “I apologize. It wasn’t my intent to catch you unawares.”
She turned to look back at the couples dancing to the waltz. “I’m so pleased for Amelia. She cares for Lord Lowenbrock a great deal. They will be happy together.”
He’d expected such a statement to be accompanied by a hint of wistfulness, but he detected none. He battled the urge to ask her about her own romantic life. It was none of his business really whether she hoped for a similar outcome as her friend. Society might look down in pity on unwed women, but he’d come across many who would choose independence over an unhappy marriage.
He caught sight of one determined mother heading his way, her young charge in tow. In a panic, he turned back to Miss Trenton. “Save me.”
Her gaze met his, her brows drawn together in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Dance with me and save me from being forced to dance with every young woman here.” He inclined his head ever so slightly to the left.
Miss Trenton glanced discreetly in that direction and caught on to his dilemma. She opened the fan dangling at her wrist and covered her mouth so no one else would see the wicked smile she shared with him. “Surely you can do better than that.”
He refrained from scowling at her, knowing that any indication on his part that he wasn’t enjoying this conversation would have the matchmaking mama barging between the two of them.
“Would you do me the great honor of joining me in this dance?”
“I don’t know. What will the others think since you haven’t danced once this evening? And a waltz, no less.”
She’d noticed that? One corner of his mouth quirked upward. “They would believe that yours is the only attention worth having.”
Miss Trenton’s smile was genuine, her eyes dancing with merriment. “Well done, my lord.” She gave a small curtsy and took the arm he offered.
They joined the other couples waltzing, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he took Miss Trenton into his arms.
