But his inquiry into her parents sent a pang of sorrow through her heart and her gaze fell to the path before them. “They passed almost two years ago.”
“My condolences. I should not have asked,” he added kindly.
Her gaze shot up to his. “How could you have known? Please, I’m much too even tempered a person to be so willing to blame others for what they cannot have foreseen.” She gave a small, brave smile.
“I shall remember that.” His blue eyes sparkled when he smiled, and Grace was very pleased in saying something that provoked such a reaction.
“And what of you? Do you live in London?” she asked, returning to the conversation.
“That I do, my lady. I’m quite fond of it here, especially on beautiful days such as these,” he added.
“Oh yes, today is lovely. It’s why my guardian suggested I take in the air. We walked quite often when were in residence in Scotland, but I haven’t had the pleasure as much since we’ve arrived in London.”
“Scotland, you say?” He glanced to her, awaiting confirmation. “Who is your guardian, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Certainly not. It’s the Viscount Kilpatrick,” she answered. His brow furrowed for a moment then smoothed out as if it never happened.
“I see. I’m assuming he’s in residence then?”
Grace thought this was a strange question. If she were in London, then it would follow that her guardian would be as well. She filed the oddity away in her mind and answered.
“Yes, he and his wife are in residence.”
“Will you be attending the Morris ball tomorrow night?” he asked, his tone kind and warm.
Flattered that he would inquire to her social schedule, she nodded. “Indeed.”
“Would it be overly presumptuous to request a dance?” he asked, turning to meet her gaze.
“Not at all. You did save me from a runaway horse,” she added, mentally rolling her eyes at how silly it sounded, regardless of its truth.
“Ah, then I’d almost think that such a feat deserves maybe . . . two dances?” he stated boldly, his white smile distracting against the olive tone of his skin.
Grace took a moment to appreciate his handsome features, from his chestnut hair to the full spread of his smile. For a moment she deliberated on how to answer.
“We will have to find out, won’t we?” she answered vaguely, hoping it would come across as sophisticated and flirtatious rather than awkward and unsure.
She must have done it right, because Lord Westhouse chuckled, kissed her hand, and then begged his leave of her, with a promise that he would be looking forward to the ball with great anticipation.
Grace watched him depart, her smile wide and free.
Perhaps the suitors she’d found tedious only meant that she hadn’t yet met the right one.
She couldn’t wait to tell Samantha.
