She was not on the arm of that fop Hansen—yet. Good.
Turning, he kept an eye out for his uncle, hoping he would have time to speak with Bridget before the old hawk arrived. She was looking around and he stared at her, willing her eyes to meet his. He even shifted around a group of men to make the task simpler, and when her gaze did land on him, her jaw hardened and her narrowed eyes said,stay away.
He smiled as he stepped back suavely. “Let the games begin. I will find you soon,” he whispered.
With that in mind, he began to view the ball in a different light and while meandering around, talking to lords and flirting with ladies, he kept Bridget in his periphery. To his acrimony, Hansendidappear, and soon enough swept Bridget off to the ballroom.
The endearing look she gave him made William’s fists clench and unclench at the sides of his thighs. It took everything in him not to walk over to the two, grab Hansen by his collar, and toss him out of the hall.
Bridget tilted her head back and laughed at something Hansen said. With her head back, eyes closed, and her mouth slightly parted, William could not help but stare and start to imagine another setting with her and what he would like to be doing with those lush lips.
In that moment, he was struck with the realization that he couldn't simply let her walk away. Instead, he bode his time, brushing off the subtle invitations to ask a lady to dance while keeping an eye on Bridget.
The two had danced twice and William was not going to allow them to have a third; besides, he and Bridget needed to have a talk. It was the third day, where was her answer?
Hansen had meandered off somewhere, just as the orchestra stirred to life with a lively tune for the second waltz. He sat his glass down, strode over to Bridget, circled an arm around her waist, and spun her onto the floor.
“Where is my answer?” he took her hand.
Her lips were pinched, “Did you care to ask me to dance like an ordinary gentleman?”
“I am the furthest thing from an ordinary gentleman before you,” William glowered.
“Clearly,” she murmured. “You do realize that this dance will not be helping amend our reputations?”
“Who cares?” He spun her around. “Depending on what your answer is, it will be a moot point.”
The music swelled around them, and he felt her stiffen in his embrace—as they glided through the steps, William found himself entranced, captivated by her radiant but reserved beauty.
A faint blush colored her cheeks as she kept her gaze downcast. The cream gown accentuated her figure and the candlelight danced on her skin, casting a warm glow on her delicate features. A loose curl had escaped her pinned hair and framed her face, and William fought the urge to tuck it behind her ear.
Bridget’s gaze finally lifted to meet his, and her eyes shimmered with a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability. With another elegant twirl, he felt the many eyes of society upon them, but he had grown impervious to stares a long time ago.
“Do you have an answer for me?” he asked.
“I need to speak with Lord Hansen first,” she replied.
Irked, William added, “Why do you need to pull him into this?”
“I want to keep my image clear of any wrongdoing,” she tilted her head up. “You found a way around your promise, and I intend to do the same.”
“Ah, you want to have your cake and eat it too,” William felt impressed. “It will not work, but I encourage you to try.”
The light in her eyes dimmed, and for several moments, she remained silent. He led her in her graceful spins and twirls, and those long lashes swept down, cloaking her expression from him. “It is best if I do explain it to Hansen, but… I am considering accepting your third—"
“Even if it threatens a scandal?”
Regret clouded her gaze. “He does not…” she bit her lip, “…affect me the way you do.”
“Finally, the truth enters the light.” William felt his chest expand. “We will marry as soon as possible, play up this charade for a while or so, and then the marriage shall be annulled.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you just say, Your Grace?”
“I promised you I would not touch you unless you gave me permission. I’m afraid I may not be able to resist that impulse if we were to remain together. You seem to have your future organized, so I will also not stand in the way of that,” he repeated. “And again, please do not call meYour Grace, I prefer my Christian name,William.”
She swallowed and nodded, indicating to him that she understood, but he needed verbal consent. “I want to hear you say it,” he said.
“...I shall call you William,” she repeated.
