It had beenrudenot to offer at least a perfunctory bend of the knee. Rude as well to completely ignore his initial request for her name, under the odd circumstances.
Yet the pretty wallflower was not sneering at him in disgust or anger, but instead wore a rather adorable expression of utter confusion. As if she were uncertain why he would wish to introduce himself to her at all.
There. That was a matter easily resolved. He would give her a good reason.
“The orchestra has only just begun this set,” he said with his most engaging smile. “If you haven’t another name already promised on your card, perhaps you would do me the honor of taking a turn about the dance floor with me.”
The color drained from her face. “No.”
Heath blinked. Perhaps she was very,veryshy. Perhaps she believed herself awkward, or possessed of two left feet. Perhaps he had just gallantly offered to drag her straight into her greatest nightmare by forcing her to move rhythmically in front of a crowd.
“No dancing. Are you peckish?” He glanced over toward the refreshment table to see what was left. “I would be happy to fetch you some lemonade. Or… a sponge cake.”
She shook her head, blue eyes filling with something akin to panic. “I cannot possibly accept.”
“I didn’t like them either,” he admitted. “Something to do with the squidgy texture. There might still be a lemon square—”
“It’s not the sponge cakes.” A pink flush crept up her cheeks as her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m a paid companion.”
And now it was Heath’s turn not to take an involuntary step back.
A paid companion.
An employee of one of the invited guests.
He hid a grimace. No wonder she hadn’t accepted his offer to dance. She might have been sacked for the audacity.
And it would have been his fault for insisting on being too friendly to a stranger.
“My apologies,” he said gruffly. “I’m sorry.”
“I am not.” She peered up at him through her lashes and gave a crooked smile. “I thought my post was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Now I think it was the moment I was mistaken for someone with permission to dance.”
Heath returned her smile automatically, but inside his mind whirred. This was a positive development. Perhaps not all was lost. Now that they had met, he and Miss Winfield could at least converse for a short moment, could they not? Even in a ballroom as public as this.
He winced. Well,technicallya paid staff member of any household was by definition a servant. But just as a lady’s maid had far greater status than a chamber maid, and a governess had even greater status than a lady’s maid, a companion was even higher than that.
In fact, companions were the very highest of all staff in one’s employ. Often the only difference between a companion and her employer was the size of her purse, not the quality of her bloodline. If Miss Winfield’s parents had possessed slightly more coin, she might have attended this ball as a guest rather than as a member of the staff.
But she was right: that had not transpired. They could not dance.
Nor would he be fetching her any sponge cakes.
He gave an understanding nod. “It was a true pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Miss Winfield. Even without a dance. I shan’t make such a request again.”
“I know.” Her smile wobbled. “It isn’t done.”
Itwasn’tdone. And yet Heath couldn’t help but like her honesty. She had only tried to save him from himself.
He stepped out of her way. “Have a good evening, Miss Winfield.”
“You, too.” She bit her lip as she glanced back at him one last time. “Mr. Grenville?”
“Yes?”
Her eyes twinkled. “I’m glad I spilled lemonade on your jacket.”
“I’m glad I dipped my elbow in your glass,” he returned with a smile.
