George, the Prince of Wales entered the ballroom, flanked by a few well-dressed gentlemen that Darius knew were his close friends.
Darius intercepted Meredith on her way to form a line to meet the prince, threading her arm through his. She gazed up at him questioningly, her cheeks flushed in a way that made him think of peonies at sunset. He wished that he was instead whisking her away into the gardens to kiss her until she was flushed that shade of pink in other, more secret and delicious, places.
“Darius, I can’t breathe.” Meredith’s gaze darted between him and the prince as he made his way along the line, greeting guests.
“Yes, you can. Remember, you’re beautiful and you are brave. That is all you need to meet the Prince Regent.”
Meredith’s laugh held a hint of hysteria. “Is that all?”
He gave her arm a soothing rub. “Yes. All will be well.”
Prince George spotted Darius as he moved down the line of guests waiting to greet him.
When he reached them, Darius bowed. “Your Royal Highness. May I present my ward, Miss Meredith Montague?”
George’s gaze moved over Meredith as she dipped into a curtsy.
“Your Royal Highness,” Meredith raised her lashes and returned the Prince Regent’s gaze with a steady one of her own.
The prince’s lips curved into a smile. “It is quite a pleasure to meet you, my dear, quite a pleasure indeed. May I presume you have a dance free?” At this question, Meredith’s confidence faltered. She looked to Darius for rescue since her dance card was full.
“I’m afraid Miss Montague’s card is full. However, I hold the last waltz, Sir. I would gladly cede that honor to you if you would grant me to.”
George’s gaze showed he understood that Darius was helping Meredith save face.
“You may do me the honor then, Tiverton.” He waited as Meredith erased Darius’s name from the last dance and offered her card to the prince, who politely penciled his name in the now free space.
“We shall meet again for the last waltz, Miss Montague. Tiverton.” George inclined his head before he moved on to the next group of guests.
Warren chuckled. “You best be careful. It would be considered treason to be jealous of the Prince of Wales.”
Meredith looked away and blushed.
“Now, I believe it’s high time you introduced me, old boy,” Warren said, his green eyes now focused on Meredith.
“Of course. Meredith, this is Warren Burville. He lives next door to Kit and Suzannah. Warren, this is Miss Montague, my ward.”
Warren bowed over Meredith’s hand, pressing a faint kiss to her fingers.
“It’s lovely to meet you. I believe we saw each other before at the play but—” Meredith began.
“But Darius bustled you away so his wicked friends could not seduce you,” Warren finished.
“Yes.” Meredith laughed as she and Warren looked at Darius to see his reaction.
The woman was adorable. When had she become so? Darius frowned as Meredith turned her focus once more to Warren.
“I understand you have no free dances, Miss Montague. Pity that. I would have happily claimed several if only to scandalize Lady Hazlitt’s guests and win a smile from you.”
Meredith blushed. “I shall take that as a compliment, Mr. Burville.”
“You should. And it’s Warren, if you please. Only strangers and enemies call me Mr. Burville.”
“Warren, then.” Meredith’s hazel eyes were full of mischief, but before she could say anything, she was claimed for her next dance. Darius could only watch, feeling bereft of her glowing presence and suffering Warren’s teasing.
Lady Hazlitt’s ball was everything Meredith hoped it would be, except she didn’t get to dance with Darius. She was more than thankful that the evening had distracted her from most of her worries and that strange scream she’d heard. The sound still echoed in her mind, but she was able to push it away whenever she was escorted back onto the floor by a new dance partner.
The final waltz was announced, and she anxiously waited for the prince to claim her. She curtsied low when he approached and accepted his hand.
