Lydia blinked at him, missing a step. “When is the last time you danced at a ball?”
“I cannot recall.”
“Well... That is... I am flattered, Lord Berkeley.” But he was only dancing with her because his mother wished it. That was what he had said before, and that was what she needed to remember when her heart picked up its pace at the insinuation of his asking her to dance despite it being something he never did.
His responding smile seemed more a grimace. “I apologize for the undue attention.”
She took a turn with the gentleman to her right, but the moment she was back with Lord Berkeley, she asked, “Do you dislike dancing?”
“I dislike the rumors that attach themselves to me when I dance with a young lady.”
“I am a young lady.”
“Really? I had not noticed.” His dry humor made her smile.
“I shall choose not to take that as an insult. Why are you dancing with me then?”
A frustrated look flitted across his brow. “You were nearly overset by men. I felt it my duty to give you at least one dance away from them all. One dance where you did not need to put your partner off or worry that he would come calling tomorrow.”
Her heart plummeted. She truly needed to stop getting her hopes up with this man. “I see. You are always and forever saving others. I could help you now and again, though. I know how you hate balls. If you need an excuse to escape, I may have just the thing.”
“What is that?” He stepped to her, grasping her hands again. Momentarily, she lost her train of thought, and it took several seconds until she found it again.
“A dress-full of punch,” she managed. “It is the perfect reason to leave any social event.”
“Is that all it takes? If so, I shall spill punch on myself forthwith.”
“The dress aspect may prove a bit more difficult.”
“Indeed. I doubt my mother’s would fit.”
She stifled a laugh, delighted with his humor even though her chest was still experiencing a lingering sense of emptiness at his reason for asking her to dance.
“Miss Faraday,” he muttered as they stepped to the side to allow another couple to promenade down the center. “Do keep your mirth to yourself. People are beginning to stare.”
She shook her head at his faux concern. “I do believe we already determined it was you drawing their attention.”
“Perhaps not all of it. You tend to attract your fair share of looks.”
“It must be my inordinate beauty,” she teased, glancing up at him.
His eyes were entirely serious. “It must be.”
Warmth pooled in her stomach at his look. She tried to push it off, but her body had gone entirely rogue this evening. They turned around each other. “Will this not openyouto undue attention? I know how you hate that.”
Lord Berkeley took her gloved hand for a dance step. It sent a rush of heat up to her elbow. Drat it all, everything was making her react in such a manner. His smallest finger brushing hers would likely send her into hysterics at this point.
“Do not worry over that.”
Lydia cocked her head. “You are a mystery, Lord Berkeley.” And what she would not give to figure him out.
“Thank you?”
She laughed quietly as the song came to a close. “Shall we forgo our next dance?” she asked. “I do not mind.”
He watched her, his eyes flicking between both of hers. “No. I would like to complete our set.”
The declaration spurred on her already thumping heart.
