“Lord Dare, there you are. I was about to give your spot away.”
She’d saved a dance for him. “My apologies.”
The Marquis of Halford stepped into the tiny clear space around them. “Are you playing favorites, Lady Georgie?”
“Careful, my lord, or your spot will open up, as well,” she said, regarding the marquis evenly. “We’re all friendly tonight.”
The broad-shouldered Halford glared at Tristan for a brief moment, then sketched a bow in Georgiana’s direction. “I have learned never to argue with a beautiful woman.”
“What a ridiculous thing to say,” Tristan scoffed. “Now you can’t argue with any woman, or she’ll think you believe her to be ugly.”
A stifled laugh sounded in the crowd. Halford’s face turned red, but before he could respond, Georgiana grabbed Tristan’s arm and steered him toward the refreshment table.
“Stop that.”
“No. It was a half-witted thing to say, and you know it.”
“I hear half-witted things from men all the time,” she returned, her voice low.
The quadrille ended, and Tristan glanced over his shoulder to see Amelia looking at him hopefully. He would rather have spent the waltz talking with Georgiana, but he’d given his word.
“Are you ready?” Georgiana asked, holding out her hand.
“Ready for what?”
“Our waltz.”
Tristan uttered a low curse. “Georgie, I…” He took a breath as the waltz began. “I can’t.”
Her mouth opened and then closed again. “Oh.”
“I promised this waltz to Miss Johns yesterday.”
She glanced past his shoulder, her expression unreadable, before she nodded. “Then go dance with her.”
Before she could turn around, Tristan seized her arm. “Don’t be angry,” he murmured. “This is not a slight to you.”
Surprise crossed her emerald eyes. “I’m not angry. But I wanted…”
“You wanted to dance with me,” he finished, with a slow smile. “And you will.”
She scowled. “What makes you think—”
“I have to go.”
He released her to lead Amelia onto the dance floor, and Georgiana watched them begin. Amelia was skilled at the waltz, and Tristan had always been one of the most athletic, graceful men she’d ever known. They made an attractive couple, swaying across the floor and keeping just the proper distance between themselves.
Tristan had kept a commitment to Amelia. Georgiana should have felt elated; instead, she felt frustrated.
Lord Westbrook strolled up to her. “Lady Georgiana, I can’t believe you decided to forgo the evening’s first waltz.”
“I’ve just been waiting for you, my lord,” she said, holding out her hand and smiling.
“You accept my apology, then,” the tawny-haired marquis said, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles.
Georgiana blinked. “Your apology? Oh, for that silly exchange in the park. Of course I do. I blame Dare entirely.”
“I wonder, then, why you continue to tolerate his presence.”
