‘Christopher will not mind.’
‘Iwill.’ Her gaze heated.
‘Wh…’
‘You cannot…’ She paused, pressing her lips tightly together. ‘You cannot act like you did yesterday morning, dancing with me as if I were the most precious person in the world and then putting me to one side and not speaking to me again until this evening. I may not be like one of your fancy ladies, but I do have feelings and you have hurt them.’
‘I…’
She tucked some of the errant strands of hair behind her ear. ‘I expect nothing from you, Edward. But I do ask that you are either my friend or not. When you treat me as someone special to you and then ignore me, it makes me sad.’
Her words hit him like a punch to the stomach. ‘I…’ He had been trying to do the right thing, damn it. It had never occurred to him that she might see his actions in a different light and that he could have hurt her in the process of trying to be honourable. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Christopher making his way towards them, stepping around small groups of chattering guests. Edward only had moments to make this right, but all his words deserted him. ‘I…’ he tried again.
He was too late. His brother arrived and still Edward had not thought of the words to explain himself. Christopher’s smile was wide as he bowed over Kate’s hand. Kate didn’t glance back at Edward as his brother led her away. He could only watch hersmile at Christopher as the opening bars of the music filled the ballroom. Her face betrayed no sign she had just had words with someone. Her smile was bright, lighting up the ballroom and turning the heads of those standing near her. There was no doubting she was a success and that she would be talked about after this evening.
The music started in earnest and the dancers began to move around the floor. If he hadn’t known, he would not have been able to guess this was her first proper ball. She was a natural dancer, her body graceful and her footwork near perfect. The dance took her away from him, but he did not step away from where she had left him.
‘Dashworth.’ Her last dance partner approached him. Edward was acquainted with him, and knew him to be a rich man, but couldn’t quite remember his name. Smith, Smythe, something like that. ‘Is it true Glanmore is providing a dowry for Miss Hornel?’
Edward’s hands curled into fists.
‘It doesn’t matter to me, of course,’ Smith or perhaps Smythe continued. ‘But one likes to know who the competition will be.’
Edward’s knuckles tightened, his nails biting into his palms. ‘She is not a prize to be won.’
The man only laughed, the faint smell of alcohol wafting towards Edward from his breath. ‘She is very beautiful; many will see her as exactly that. I am lucky this is not the Season. She would be swamped with suitors otherwise. At this time of year, it will be easier.’
‘You cannot be serious.’
Finally, the man seemed to realise they were not having the good-natured conversation he thought they were. ‘Why? Is there something wrong with her?’
The dance brought her and Christopher near. His brother was speaking and Kate was laughing. ‘What do you mean by that?’ Edward bit out.
The man was frowning at him, clearly thinking Edward was a contrary fellow, which he undoubtedly was. Tobias had provided Kate with a dowry. Emily did think tonight would be the ideal time for Kate to find some suitors, possiblythesuitor. Edward was fairly sure his sister-in-law was right: men would call on Kate after this. She had danced every dance, had men like Smith or Smythe or whatever, queuing up to find out more about her, and instead of furthering any match, Edward was acting like a beast with no manners. ‘Of course there is nothing wrong with her,’ he managed to say. ‘She is everything a lady should be.’
The man’s smile returned. ‘Excellent. I shall look forward to my next dance with her later. Farewell, old chap.’
Edward didn’t bother with his own goodbye. Instead, he watched as Kate moved out of sight once more. He would be damned if she married that fellow. No one should be bound to a man who discussed women like they were trinkets to acquire. Smith or Smythe was not good enough for her and as soon as he remembered the man’s name he would explain his thoughts. Not that she was in any mood to take advice from him.
Christopher caught his gaze over Kate’s shoulder and grinned at him as if they were both in on the same joke. Whatever it was, nobody had told Edward the punchline. He had never felt so far away from smiling in his whole life and, after a childhood marred by Miss Dunn, that was an achievement.
Kate was still laughing as Christopher brought her near, the cad probably enjoying Edward’s misery. Her shoulders were shaking with mirth, her eyes sparkling. Damn, but she was beautiful. She did not turn her head in his direction andso he allowed himself the indulgence of watching her lithe movements.
If he hadn’t been watching intently, he might not have noticed her slight falter, the extra step she did in an otherwise perfect turn. Christopher’s pace didn’t change and Edward might not have thought anything further about it, only Kate’s smile turned rigid and the colour drained from her face.
Edward shifted on his feet, trying to see what could have changed her demeanour. A few steps away from him, facing the dance floor like Edward was, a man with a head of burnished gold hair was watching her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Handsome in an austere way, he was dressed in fine clothes. Edward had never laid eyes on him before, but he guessed he was rich from the way he stood, commanding the space with a lazy arrogance. There was something possessive in the way he was staring at Kate, his lip slightly curled in annoyance.
The music came to an end and the man started forward, heading straight towards Kate, cutting through bowing couples like none of them mattered. Christopher was still smiling at Kate, but her body was locked in a hard line.
Without thinking, Edward moved across the dance floor, his only thought to intercept the man. The stranger had almost reached Kate, holding out a hand as though he was going to grasp Kate’s elbow, when Edward stepped in front of him.
‘Arthur,’ Edward said jovially, ‘I thought it was you. It has been an age.’
The man paused, his hand still outstretched, reaching towards Kate but looking towards Edward. Edward was counting on the stranger having enough manners not to push him to one side. The world slowed as the moment stretched out. Edward hoped Kate was moving away, that she had managed to force her limbsto work or that Christopher had realised something was wrong and had helped her. He didn’t turn to check.
‘I am sorry,’ said the man in a deep baritone, ‘but I do not know you.’
‘It is me, Dashworth, Edward Dashworth. Glanmore’s brother.’ Edward didn’t normally mention the ducal connection. Most people recognised the Dashworth name, knew that it meant old money and powerful connections that stretched back centuries, but it wouldn’t hurt to emphasise the point to this man.
