Heat touched Roderick’s cheekbones. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I should have insisted that you not get involved in this matter.”
To his shame, Lucy’s grip tightened on his hand as though she were trying to comfort him when it ought to be the other way around. He should be the one reassuring her.
“Don’t let it trouble you, Roddy. Belle is the biggest romantic in Town. She will see what she wants to see and there’s nothing to be done about it. And you couldn’t have kept me away from this if you’d even tried. You did, in fact, try, if you’ll recall. When your brother invited us to an adventure, I was sold before I could even blink, as I’m sure you well know. You bear no guilt in this, I can assure you.” She shifted her gaze as though listening attentively. “This one’s almost done. Don’t get into some profound conversation somewhere and forget to collect me for the waltz. I don’t know how I’ll survive the intervening time without knowing what’s going on.”
Again Roderick’s heart clenched in his chest, making him wonder if he ought to see the family physician. Or one of his friends studying medicine. It surely couldn’t be healthy for one’s organ to act thusly. But he knew it was Lucy, not a true illness. He knew his smile wasn’t quite right but he did his best to offer it to her anyway.
“I swear I’ll never forget our dance.”
Her eyes widened slightly and he knew he had allowed a little too much emotion to creep into his statement. But their ridiculous country dance was finally ending and there was nothing else he could do but bow to her and step back as the popular young woman was surrounded by her admirers. He was only one of a crowd, he knew, as he watched her accept Lord Wiltshire’s arm into the next dance. And that daft Lord Busby was standing on the side lines as though awaiting his turn.
He tried to be blasé about it and go in search of one of the women on his list of potential brides. He had already seen that Miss Bastion was present. Perhaps Lady Evangeline could be persuaded away from the library and onto the dance floor.
His heart was obviously not in it, but Roderick Northcott did not allow something so fickle as his heart to rule his life, he reminded himself, thinking of his penniless friends and their important research. It was for the greater good. He needed that property. For that he needed to wed. It had seemed the simplest plan when he had set out for Town. He wouldn’t allow his gaze to follow Lucy through the ballroom. He might not believe in allowing his heart to rule him, but he knew his was going to ache after this was all concluded.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy’s stomach was starting to hurt. It felt almost like hunger, but she suspected it was not. All she wanted to do was curl up in a quiet place and think over the delicious expression that had been on Roderick’s face when he had promised her he wouldn’t forget to collect her for the waltz.
Was it possible he had warm feelings for her?
No, it must have been her own wishful thinking. He would never fall in love with her. Surely he was too logical to fall in love with anyone, but certainly not her. He thought her a simple-minded, fashion-mad gossipmonger. There was no way he would do something so foolish as to develop warm feelings for the Lucy Scranton Society knew.
But he had known her since childhood. Perhaps he remembered their long-ago conversations. The ones she would think over from time to time, reminiscing about their heated arguments about whatever subject he was studying in school. She had adored those moments. Until recalling how her father would have felt about them made her put an end to them.
She had been unforgivably rude about his intelligence too many times for him to think warmly about her. Perhaps he had indigestion. Or it was a trick of the light. Candlelight was always casting romantic shadows that led the imagination into untrustworthy places. She knew that and needed to remember it.
Besides. Love was messy. She certainly didn’t want Roderick Northcott falling in love with her. What would she even do with such an event? She couldn’t marry him.
Could she?
Thus were her riotous thoughts as she made her way throughout the ballroom for the next three quarters of an hour. Not even the keenest observer would be aware, though. Lucy Scranton was one of the most skilled young ladies of thetonat maintaining her party face, as she liked to think of it.
A party face was the polite, perfectly interested expression one maintained on their visage when in company. A smile that wasn’t too wide, but the exact sort of pleasant that invited interaction. She had practiced it for hours as a young girl. Whenever her father had caught her with a book, he had lectured her about the frown that formed between her eyebrows when she was puzzling over something she was trying to understand.
“No one likes a frowner,” he had told her. “You’ll never make friends at school or find a husband in Town if you crease your face up like that.”
Lucy supposed he thought he was being kind or helpful. He had only given her anxiety. But she was an expert at societal functions as a result. She was reasonably sure none of her dance partners were aware that she had no recollection of their identities or what they were trying to discuss with her. Not that any of them were really trying to discuss anything, she supposed. They were merely informing her of their own greatness.
Lord Wiltshire had been over simply explaining something he had heard about in Parliament. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might have an opinion or already know about that particular bill. Lord Busby was on again about his horses. At first it had irritated Lucy but then it had become amusing.
Men of thetonwere much like pigeons in the spring, Lucy thought in a moment of clarity that almost made her laugh out loud. That would certainly not do. But she longed to tell Roderick her thought. Perhaps she would over supper. Surely he would laugh. Or think her mad. One or the other. Likely both. And both would be true. She was surely running mad, and that was rather amusing.
“You are unusually sombre,” Roderick commented as soon as he pulled her into his arms.
Lucy had to blink to reorder her thoughts, as they were rioting all over her brain like a giant game of skittles. She hadn’t danced the waltz many times in reality. Oh, she’d learned the steps, of course, from her dancing instructor and practiced with him several times, as well as with both her brothers and even many times on her own to ensure she actually knew the steps.
But being in the arms of a gentleman she found attractive. An attractive gentleman who knew the steps well and could gaze at her with concern rather than be worrying about his own steps or whether or not she would step on and thus scratch his shoes, was a heady experience. Not one she had yet experienced.
On top of that sending her thoughts topsy turvy, he was also remarking upon her state of mind not being what she thought she was displaying? It left a girl unsure how to proceed.
“Whatever do you mean?” Lucy finally managed to respond.
“You needn’t put on your airs with me, Lucy, we’ve been friends since you were still in pigtails. I know your mind has been preoccupied with what I had to tell you as soon as I saw you. But I didn’t think it would worry you to this extent.” A thrill curled in her stomach as he tightened his grasp and his gaze searched hers once more. “I’m truly sorry to have gotten you into this mess.”
“Well, it really wasn’t you who did, Roddie, so please don’t let it bother you. And it really isn’t that which had me preoccupied, strangely enough.”
Roderick frowned slightly even as he maneuvered them expertly through the other dancers.
