“You do not know me,” she felt obliged to point out—save, perhaps, for the gossip that has ruined my family.
“And that,” he said, his voice low, “is the first thing I should like to remedy.”
The final notes of the waltz faded, forcing them apart. “Thank you, Miss Tremaine,” he said.
Thinking he referred merely to their dance, she inclined her head politely. “You are most welcome, Your Grace. I enjoyed it.” She was surprised by how much she meant the words.
“As did I—and I usually detest dancing.”
“Well, then you are free to abstain for the remainder of the evening,” she replied lightly. “It is your ball, after all.”
“Will you dance with me again?”
“Of course not.”
Elowen froze. Her eyes widened in horror.Good gracious, what have I said?She prided herself on her composure—how could she have let such a thought slip?
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant,” he interrupted, laughter colouring his tone. To her shock—and her relief—he seemed thoroughly amused. “Though the sting is real, it is refreshing to encounter such candour. And you are quite right: a second dance might invite speculation, and I should hate to be the cause of a single raised eyebrow on your account.”
“Since you understand perfectly, Your Grace, I see no need to belabour the matter.”
“On the contrary.” Without warning, he caught her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm as they began their slow return toward their waiting families. “I feel compelled to makeamends for our limited opportunity. Perhaps I shall hound you for the rest of the evening.”
Elowen’s lips curved despite herself. “Oh, I cannot think of anything worse,” she said lightly.
“No need to spare my feelings, Miss Tremaine,” he drawled.
A laugh escaped her—light, genuine, and startling after so many months of restraint. “You do not seem to mind when I speak plainly, so I hardly thought you would take offence.”
“I do not,” he said with mock solemnity. “Go on then—tell me how little you relish the thought of enduring another moment in my company.”
She laughed again, the sound almost foreign to her ears. It had been too long since she had truly laughed. “You are very kind, Your Grace—and rather charming. But I am afraid others will begin to talk if you linger in my company much longer.”
“Perhaps,” he said, his tone deliberately casual. “But I must admit, my motives are not entirely altruistic. I hoped to make use of you.”
Her brows rose. “Make use of me?”
“To deter the other ladies from approaching. You are a most effective shield.”
“You hardly need me for that, Your Grace. You possess a perfectly adequate weapon of your own.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” he asked, a faint scowl creasing his brow.
She slowed her steps, her lips curving. “That look you wear so well—one hint of a scowl, and the boldest of debutantes will think twice before approaching.”
His expression deepened, though amusement glimmered beneath it. “And give them nightmares for days, no doubt.”
“That would be impossible,” she returned, unable to suppress a smile. “You are far too handsome for that.”
His brows shot upward. Elowen froze, mortified.Mercy, did I truly just say that aloud?
She cleared her throat quickly and turned away. “The others are waiting,” she said, her tone brisk, and she walked off before he could reply. It felt suspiciously like running—and she did not run from anything. Yet the warmth creeping up her neck urged her to escape before she said anything equally foolish.
Her father and the Dowager Duchess were still deep in conversation when she returned, though both looked up at once. Miss Beaumont had vanished. Papa’s brow furrowed immediately, sensing something amiss.
But Elowen could not meet his gaze just yet. She had to first manage the Duke still at her heels. Turning, she summoned the composure she had promised herself she would maintain throughout the evening.
