But then she became aware of a man approaching her purposefully—the very short one from the earlier dance! She turned away as if she’d not seen him, looking around desperately for some other partner. Any other. She was willing to grab one if necessary.
Lady Cawle spoke in a particularly clear and carrying voice. “You promised the waltz to Kynaston, did you not, Lady Ariana? Where is he?”
The words silenced all around, and he turned. Anger flashed in his eyes and for a terrible moment Ariana thought he’d refuse the summons. She wouldn’t blame him. But then he came over, even smiling, with lips at least.
“My apologies, Lady Ariana.”
His eyes were so cold.
Heavens above. Did he think there was some plot to snare him?
She was trying to think of a way to reassure him, when a voice behind said, “Lady Ariana! Did you not promise the waltz to me?”
She had to turn to the short man. He was quite handsome and well formed, but perhaps not even five feet tall. What possessed him?
Hating being the center of attention, she said, “I think not, sir, as I am already committed to Lord Kynaston.”
“Then the next waltz.”
“Alas, sir, I’m promised for that one, too,” Ariana lied. What else could she do?
He understood the rejection and turned to stalk away.
“I don’t even know his name,” she murmured.
“Lord Inching,” Kynaston said. “Yes, slightly unfortunate.”
She glanced at him, hoping to see humor, but he was still cold. “Why would he wish to dance a waltz with someone so... tall?”
“Inching is very much attracted to taller ladies, and ladies as tall as you are uncommon.”
“You mean he might persist?”
“Very possibly. If you are sufficiently desperate in your husband hunt, Lady Ariana, he would be an easy target.”
The vile beast!But she reminded herself that he had some reason for his sour humor at the moment. “I apologize for Lady Cawle, my lord, and I thank you for the rescue.”
“But you don’t deny seeking a husband.”
Ariana turned away, wafting her fan and idly surveyingthe dance floor as couples moved into place. “Why should I, my lord? Nearly all the single ladies here are interested in marriage, and probably many of the gentlemen seek a wife.”
“True enough. Positively barbaric, isn’t it?”
“You have a jaded view of the world, my lord.”
“A realistic one. Come, let us take our place.”
She put her hand in his extended one, registering his strong reluctance.
He didn’t want to dance with her.
Perhaps he was remembering their last dance, when the dazzle of being his partner had turned her clumsy. In a country dance such a situation would be awkward, but if they were stuck together in a waltz, it was going to be excruciating for both of them. Ariana felt that old pull toward the ladies’ retiring room, but it was far too late to escape, especially after Lady Cawle’s intervention—and she didn’t want to. She was feeling all the tremulous excitement she had eight years ago, but this time she would dance perfectly! She put aside all other thoughts as the circle of couples began the progressive step.
In time, however, came the turn.
Many thought the turn of the waltz risqué and even scandalous as it put the couple into each other’s arms for a while, face-to-face, the gentleman’s hand in continuous contact with the lady’s waist. Ariana had thought that a mere quibble.
Until now.
