“I’d consider it a favor, Hatfield, if you joined our party for the evening. Marianne and I have duties as host and hostess, and I don’t want Lady Olivia and Lady Jocelyn to be left alone.”
“I’d be honored,” replied Marcus, nodding his assent.
“Now Lord Sherwyn,” said Marianne. “I know you are not at your best on these social occasions, so I have arranged for the Viscount’s study to be available for you to rest or take time out from the fray, should you desire it.”
“That is most kind, dear Lady,” said Uncle Harold, bowing to Marianne.
“Of course, you will have to return sometimes, and I warn you that I intend to claim that dance which you promised me,” Marianne informed him.
Olivia felt the air stir beside her and knew immediately who was standing at her side. “I am in awe of Lady Leighton’s abilities as hostess. This is one of the finest events I have attended,” Lord Hatfield said.
“Marianne seems to be in her element arranging social events,” she responded.
“I hope that you will do me the honor of dancing with me,” he asked her.
Olivia’s heart skipped a beat as she nodded an assent. “Gladly,” she murmured, her voice stuck in her throat as she recognized the now familiar wash of warmth and excitement which flooded her body whenever she was close to Lord Hatfield.
He offered her his arm to lead her out to dance a cotillion, and as she placed her hand under his she stopped and stared at her niece.
An elegant Corinthian had engaged Jocelyn in conversation.
“She’s clearly made a conquest there,” Olivia said aloud, without thinking.
“He looks smitten,” responded Lord Hatfield. “I know Lord Ludlow had planned to ask Lady Jocelyn for this dance, but he’s been beaten to it by a rival for her affections.”
“Who is it? she whispered.
“That is Ethan, Marquis of Hastings,” he whispered back, and she could smell the scent of sandalwood on his skin, and she breathed in the heady masculine aroma.
“He seems to have caught my niece’s attention. Where is Lord Ludlow?”
“There, he’s been dancing with Lady Leighton, look they are returning to join us.”
“It seems Lord Ludlow has been pipped at the post. There are plenty more dances, but it seems my niece has a serious suitor in the Marquis of Hastings.”
As Olivia and Lord Hatfield whirled around the dance floor, she was conscious of two things. The first was that this connection, the physical reactivity of her body when she was close to the earl, was not fading over time. If anything, the connection grew stronger every time they met.
The second was that as she danced a cotillion, she closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his breath and that fragrance of sandalwood, making it difficult to focus on where to put her feet.
When she did open her eyes, she noticed Jocelyn with the Marquis of Hastings and the intense looks he gave her niece made it clear he admired her with a passion.
When the dance finished, and the earl led her back to their group, she looked out for Jocelyn. She didn’t need to wait long. Jocelyn rushed up to her, face flushed, and grabbed her arm. Lord Hatfield nodded and moved to one side to give them privacy to talk.
That really is so considerate of him,Olivia thought, turning to her excited niece.
“It’s him, Olivia, it’s him,” said Jocelyn excitedly.
“Slow down Jocelyn. I have no idea what you are talking about,” Olivia replied.
“The flowers,” Jocelyn persisted. “You remember the flowers arriving?”
Olivia nodded.
“Well it wasn’t Colin who sent them. Ethan, Marquis of Hastings arranged for the flowers. He has a hot house in his garden in Sussex and he grows roses there.”
“Truly?” Olivia answered.
“He’s very charming. We’re going to dance again and next time it will be the waltz. I’ve never met anyone as romantic as the marquis.”
