He glanced over and glimpsed the Benton party gaping at them. Lewis and Saxby as well. “I thought you might appreciate the... diversion.”
He tightened his grip on her waist and whirled her around, too preoccupied to recall the various positions of the German and French waltz. She seemed preoccupied as well, craning her neck to look over his shoulder, keeping an eye on the Bentons as she spun past.
“All of London speaks of you. Of your disappearance,” he said, as they repeated the basic step and turns.
“Do they?”
“Is that why you came? To prove you are alive and well?”
A worry line appeared between her brows above the mask. “In part, yes.”
“Then why not remove your mask and show the world who you really are?”
“It is a masquerade, Mr. Upchurch.”
“Ah. I see. And you are the queen of disguises.”
She darted a look up at him, unsure of his meaning.
Lewis appeared beside them, roguish grin on his handsome face. “Miss Macy, as I live and breathe! How I have longed to see you again. Do say you’ll dance with me. Nate won’t mind if I cut in. Will you, ol’ boy?”
Nathaniel felt the old stab of jealousy. He glanced from his brother’s face—perfectly confident she would agree—to Margaret’s.
She looked at Lewis squarely and said, “Actually, I would prefer to dance with your brother.”
Lewis’s mouth parted in disbelief.
Heart lifting, Nathaniel whirled Margaret away from his stunned brother. It was likely the first time a woman had turned him down for anything.
His fleeting feeling of victory faded, for Margaret suddenly looked quite distressed.
“Mr. Upchurch,” she fumbled. “I... I must take my leave directly. But before I go, allow me to say how sorry I am for the callous way I treated you in the past. I regret it most keenly.”
His heart squeezed even as he felt his brows rise. “Do you?”
She swallowed. “I was wrong about you. I was wrong about a great many things.”
He stared at her. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Sterling Benton striding purposely around the perimeter of the room in their direction. Their time was nearly up.
“I fear Mr. Benton may try to cut in next,” he said. Lewis had likely put the idea into his head.
She paled.
Nathaniel looked toward the main doors, where Hudson hovered. When their eyes met he lifted his chin. His steward instantly straightened to attention. Nathaniel nodded toward Benton with a pointed look, then lifted one finger at half mast and tapped his lips—a signal devised after working many auctions together, buying supplies and selling sugar.
Hudson followed his gaze and nodded.
As the music ended, Nathaniel whirled Margaret toward the second pair of doors and bowed over her hand. “I think, Miss Macy, you had better go the way you came and quickly.”
“Oh...” she murmured, breathless. “Thankyou.” She held his gaze a moment longer, the emphasis on theyouplucking a taut chord in his chest, pleasure and pain. It seemed clear she was thanking him for more than the dance.
She turned and hurried from the room.
Nathaniel glanced over and saw Sterling Benton making a beeline for the main doors. Hudson stepped directly into his path, and the two men collided shoulder to chest. Hudson was broader than elegant Sterling Benton, and the impact stunned the slender man momentarily.
He snarled, “I say, have a care.”
———
