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“But do you like me in particular?” His tone indicated that there could only be one answer to that question.
“Stop fishing for compliments, Paul.”
She carried away the memory of his astonished expression, as they peeled apart and worked their way down the line of dancers. By the time they came back to one another, she’d had time to feel ashamed of her grumpiness—and to note that Giles was still talking to Letty Duggan.
“I’m sorry.” She strove to come up with a reason for her sharpness. Apart from the fact that she’d obviously lost her mind.
“Don’t apologize.” Paul smiled with the effortless charm so essential to him. “I deserved a set-down. This is neither the time nor place for the discussion I want to have.”
Oh, dear. His graciousness made her feel small and mean. As small and mean as she felt for wanting to rip every rich red hair from Letty’s lovely head.
“Let’s just enjoy the evening.” She hoped Paul didn’t hear the desperate note underlying her suggestion.
“Excellent plan,” he said easily. “But did you hear what I said?”
She tore her gaze from Giles, who appeared far too cheerful for a brooding loner, devil take him. “You apologized when you didn’t have to. I’m acting like a witch.”
“Never.”
“You’re too kind,” she said, with her first real smile since he’d joined her on the piano stool.
Paul could be a little smug—a boy coddled by his late parents and generally lauded as a paragon of looks and behavior would hardly grow up to be anything else. But he had a good heart. He wasn’t spiteful, and he didn’t bear grudges. Even when her childish adoration had become an embarrassment to his adolescent self, he’d remained carelessly kind.
His uncharacteristic seriousness persisted. “I have something important to say to you, Serena. I hope after Christmas, you’ll have time and attention to give me a hearing.”
Her step faltered, and her stomach dropped about a mile. Not with excitement. “Paul…”
She couldn’t mistake his meaning. After years of wanting Paul Garside to notice her, her prayers had been answered. She needed no snares and stratagems after all. Giles had been right. Her quarry was willing to come to her hand.
And the thought made her feel sick.
It was time to have a stern word with herself about constancy.
Then she needed to fall on her knees to the Almighty and offer humble thanks for making all her dreams come true.
But what on earth could she say now? Luckily, Paul’s unfailing self-confidence rescued her.
“Cat got your tongue, Serena?” With a tender smile, he touched her cheek, despite the fact that they were surrounded with people. “That doesn’t often happen. I feel quite proud of myself.”
“I…”
Blast. She sounded a complete nitwit.
His laugh conveyed the affection she’d never doubted. “As I said, this isn’t the right time. But wear a pretty dress on Boxing Day and don’t stray far from that impressive kissing bough. I have plans for it—and for you.”
Before she could dredge up some response, it was their turn to separate again. Thank heaven for the dance’s complicated steps.
The moment she left Paul’s side, Serena sucked in a deep breath, but nothing shifted the stubborn lump of dread lodged in her chest.
Chapter Seven
* * *
Giles heard Serena’s quick step as he waited in the stable yard, holding the saddled horses. With the late winter sunrise, it was still dark, so the rendezvous held a delightfully clandestine air.
“Giles, you’re ready for me.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t tell whether she was pleased to see him or not, as she walked into the circle of light the lantern cast from above the stable doors. “It seemed unfair to disturb the grooms.”
