“I know. Just thinking.”
“Of?”
“Everything and nothing.”
His brow pinched.
“No need to worry. I’m worn out, too tired to be the nuisance I usually am.”
He only grunted in reply. They reached their host, and Amelia summoned a dazzling smile to greet the Duchess of Lumond, the duke, and their three daughters, Maryann, Diana, and Juliet.
“My dear, where is your brother?” Her Grace asked.
Amelia turned to Graham. He cleared his throat. “He sends his regrets, Your Grace. He had urgent business with his estate up north.”
She frowned, casting a regretful look at her daughters. “How unfortunate.”
“Yes,” Amelia said. “But he will return as soon as possible. I know he is sad to miss your party.”
She appeared mollified by that. “Once he returns, he will have make a morning call to make up for it.”
Pleasantries completed, Graham led Amelia to the ballroom, guiding her down the crowded hall into a glittering room of polished white marble floors. The walls and ceiling shimmered in gold paper and paint. Garlands of flowers were dripping from every available surface, and bird cages filled with colorful birds were placed sparsely around the edges. Spring had exploded into the room and surpassed beauty into something garish.
“Interesting,” Graham muttered.
“It’s hideous. These poor birds appear distressed.”
“Indeed. Promise me you won’t do something reckless like let them out.”
Amelia gasped up at him. “I would never! The poor things could get hurt! And most of them aren’t native to England and should not be set loose only to suffer and die in our differing climate. What do you take me for?”
“Forgive me,” he said, a hint of a smile just visible.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
He chuckled, and it sent a riot of shivers through her body. She drew a breath, once again tantalized by the idea of playing a part that would make him weak for her. At least shethoughtshe knew what type of woman he’d want. Someone sweet, pliant, quiet, and reliant on him. The opposite of everything she was.
“Will you be dancing with me?” she asked.
“Am I not obligated to?”
“Yes, but not more than once. And you don’t play cards, so how will you occupy yourself while I’m on the dance floor?”
He looked out at the dance floor where no couples had yet ventured. “You plan to dance often?”
“As much as possible. I love to dance.”
“With whom?”
“Anyone acceptable who asks.”
He gave the gentlemen around them a hard, assessing look. “But I am your jealous and possessive fiancé. What if I don’t let you?”
Oof, something hot and urgent erupted inside her. His words both infuriated and delighted her. She thought of her idea again—to be everything he wanted, just for one night, just to see what he would be like.
“Do you want to keep me all to yourself?” she said in a lower, breathier tone.
Then he did that thing she hated where he went rigid all over, as if so offended by whatever she’d done or said that he’d turned to stone, like she was Medusa, cursing him. “Er, you should do what you normally do.”
