He held out his arm. “Walk with me?”
When she looked at him in doubt, he motioned with his eyes toward the matrons sitting close by. They were beginning to cast them covert glances, clearly curious as to his presence on this side of the ballroom, though to his relief her mother had yet to notice his arrival.
She flushed. “You know, I was perfectly invisible until you turned up, my lord,” she chided playfully. She took his arm and he began to thread her through the crowd.
“You can be assured, you have my heartfelt apologies. The matrons and chaperones have eagle eyes, I fear. I know you will not hold it against me when I tell you that there are times I feel like a bit of prey they have in their sights.”
She laughed lightly, keeping her gaze straight ahead, her eyes squinting as she scanned the crowd, a small smile on her surprisingly lush lips.
Lush? Surely that adjective had not just popped into his thoughts. He shook his head. “You are an enigma to me. I cannot make you out. Why do you hide behind such a façade?”
“An enigma,” she murmured. “That is a new one. I fear what you see with me is what you get.”
He frowned. “Oh, come now, Miss Duncan. You forget, I’ve glimpsed it. There is much more to you.”
She shook her head, her lips compressing. “That’s very kind of you, but not true in the least.”
He stopped near the wall and turned her to face him. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Disregarding my compliments.” He was unable to hold back the tinge of frustration in his voice. Truly, why could she not see he was being honest with her? What force had her believing she wasn’t worthy of a compliment? He thought back to his visit to her drawing room. Her mother was not a warm woman. From the look of her he doubted she had ever had a kind word for her eldest. Anyone would feel emotionally bruised after living with that.
He realized that she was staring up at him with a curious expression. He smiled, effectively banishing the strange mood that had momentarily overtaken them. “It isn’t well done of you, you know. When a woman receives a compliment, she should simper behind her fan and bat her lashes.”
“Oh dear,” she said in mock concern. “And here I’ve forgotten my fan.”
They had a wonderful moment of shared laughter. Truly, she had a lovely laugh. She didn’t giggle behind closed lips but let out a chuckle of true mirth. He had a sudden and complete moment of peace as he hadn’t had in years.
The music ended then. He cocked his head, listening, and then turned back to her. Holding out his hand, he gave her a crooked smile. She looked at him quizzically.
“I would be honored if you would gift me with the next dance, Miss Duncan.”
She was already shaking her head before he finished. “Oh, no,” she said. “No, you don’t want to dance with me.”
He kept his hand out. “I assure you I do.”
She contemplated him for a long moment before she set her chin and reached out with trembling fingers to grip his own. He grinned down at her before leading her out onto the floor.
• • •
A cotillion was just starting, the sets forming as they took their places. Imogen’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. What devil had compelled her to accept him? She wondered. The same devil, she suspected wryly, that had her bantering with him so boldly just minutes ago. She felt as if a stranger had invaded her tonight, one with a daring that Miss Imogen Duncan had never possessed.
Mariah was in the same square formation. When she spied Imogen her face lit up. Imogen grinned back, her every nerve ending alive. And then Mariah’s gaze drifted to Lord Willbridge at her side. Her eyes widened, and she looked back to Imogen, her brows raised. After that there was no time for more as the musicians struck up their instruments.
How many times had she danced about the drawing room back at Hillview Manor with her sisters, laughing and carrying on even as they pretended they were at a grand London ball on the arm of a handsome stranger?
But now she was. And every time her hands met those of Lord Willbridge she felt a jolt go straight through her to her very toes.
“You surprise me yet again, Miss Duncan,” he murmured in her ear as they passed. She looked at him quizzically. When they met again, he leaned in once more.
“You have not stepped on my toes once. Is there anything you cannot do?”
She gave a small sputter of laughter. “Please,” she scoffed as they parted.
When they came back around again his lips were once more at her ear. “For shame, Miss Duncan. Remember, take a compliment honestly given.”
“Even if said compliment is bordering on insult?”
