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Chapter Fourteen
Breathe.
Minerva focused on her dance partner’s cravat. She could ignore the curious looks from others with ease when seated with a chessboard in front of her and a game to focus on. But dancing in the arms of the charming Lord Camdon, Minerva couldn’t block out the whispers that were no doubt about her. Her ears burned. She sensed their gazes, heating the skin on the back of her neck. They were waiting…waiting for her to make a mistake.
Oh, she could sing and dance in front of them when she donned a fake beauty spot and wore face paint without issue. But in a ballroom full of her peers, when a simple gaze held a moment too long or a smile a little too broad could, in a blink of an eye, transform into the lateston-ditor, even worse, result in a couple finding themselves in front of a reverend, every inch of exposed skin on the back of her neck burned from their gazes.
Her sisters Isadora and Diana whirled around her, led by their beaus effortlessly. Minerva reminded herself—I won. No matter what occurs, no one can make me marry.She willed her feet to move.
At the light pressure applied to her hand that was securely captured in Lord Camdon’s grasp, Minerva glanced up at her dance partner. “Would it be too much to request another boon from you personally, Lord Camdon?”
“Is securing the word of the Head of the Foreign Office not to meddle in your affairs and wounding my pride not enough?” Lord Camdon’s smile was dazzling and put her at ease. He was a gracious loser, not at all like her previous challengers, who took exception to being defeated by a woman.
“I believe you’re not half as wounded as you claim to be,” Minerva replied, and then added with all seriousness, “I’m quite certain you’ve endured and survived much worse.” Conversing with Lord Camdon eased the tension in her muscles. She weaved through the line of gentleman dancers and met the gazes of the other guests with a new perspective.
“Ah, but the injury I’ve incurred this eve has not merely been to my pride. And it’s been a long while since I’ve been denied something I truly desire.”
She returned to stand before Lord Camdon. He wanted her? Standing face to face with him, she studied her dance partner’s features. His serious eyes held a twinkle of impatience.
No. The man didn’t want her. If she were to hazard a guess as to Lord Camdon’s true motivations, she would place a sizable wager that he simply didn’t wish to expend the time or energy on finding a suitable wife.
She caught sight of Charlotte standing on the fringes of the dance floor holding court among a gaggle of young bucks. Hm. Charlotte could bring Lord Camdon up to snuff, butwouldshe, was the real question.
Minerva stepped forward and began to circle Lord Camdon. “If marriage is what you desire, then I suggest you merely look around—there are multiple eligible ladies surrounding us at this moment.”
When she came around, his intense gaze bored into her. “Ah, but is there another who is daring enough to risk spinsterhood, all in the hopes to gain a worthy husband?”
“Skilled chess players are often accused of hyper focus, unable to see alternatives once a stratagem has been formed in their mind. I was guilty of such. That was until I was forced to see the alternatives that were, in fact, right before me.”
Camdon’s brows knitted. He took her word seriously. A rarity. After a moment, he said, “You believe I have misjudged someone. Mayhap even someone I’m already acquainted with. Who is this mysterious lady?”
“What would be the fun in simply telling you? After all, you are a brilliant agent for the Crown, are you not? I have faith you shall figure it out.” She took his extended hand and promenaded next to him. Bolstered by the confidence that she was able to ignore the prying gazes of onlookers, she said, “As to the boon I would like to request…”
“Speaking of being singularly minded.” He tugged her a little closer and smiled down at her.
A flutter in her chest caused her to gasp—Drake was close by. She scanned the ballroom as Camdon spun her in a circle until she was once again face to face with her grinning dance partner. The tension in her neck diminished. Lord Camdon was rather skilled at placing others at ease. “I already admitted to possessing the trait in spades. However, at present, I need your assistance in avoiding Drake this eve.”
She expected Lord Camdon to search the room for Drake, but instead his full attention remained on her. “Fear he may challenge you?”
“Oh, I have no doubt he intends to issue a public challenge, and I intend to accept, except I need more time to…well, to get my affairs in order. Will you help me?”
He studied her for no more than a heartbeat, and then his eyes widened with recognition. “Despite your feelings for Drake, you plan on devising a strategy to defeat him. Why?”
“When I play, I play to win.” Her rote response slipped from her lips. It wasn’t pride that drove her persistence to win. Or perhaps it was. But if she was to wed, she wanted a man who could not only defeat her but also love her unequivocally.
Lord Camdon leaned in closer. “I understand the sentiment well, but at what cost?”
She gave him a watery smile and said, “Regardless of if I win or lose my match with Drake, I shall pay handsomely in one way or another.”
“A conundrum for certain.”
Lord Camdon expertly maneuvered them to the opposite side of the dance floor. And Minerva saw her dance partner for what he was: a kindred spirit. He understood without the need for her to explain the complex interconnections that her mind weaved around every situation.
Lord Camdon lightened his hold on her as the last note of the waltz floated in the air. “In return for my assistance tonight, you shall grant me the permission to escort you on a ride in the park tomorrow.”
Without hesitation, she said, “Agreed.” She spied Anthony in the wings.
“Damn. I should have demanded more.”
