“Pardon,” she murmured.
“For?” he asked, tipping his head as they continued to dance.
“For stepping on your toes,” Grace nearly mumbled, hating that she needed to mention it out loud. Maybe she shouldn’t have apologized. But it was pointless to pretend that it had not happened. Wasn’t it?
“Oh, that. It’s less than nothing. My youngest sister used to do the same thing.” He gave a quick smile.
Grace’s heart melted a little bit more. Someone who didn’t mind when she stepped on their toes? It could be love.
Leave it to her to find the one man who could tolerate her dancing the waltz and have him at odds with the very man in charge of her future.
They conversed throughout the dance, and when the waltz ended, she was escorted back to the side of the viscount, and Lord Westhouse requested to speak with the viscount privately.
Samantha watched the men leave, then turned to Grace. “I do not know much, but what I do know I do not like.”
Grace’s soaring heart deflated, and she met Samantha’s gaze. “He said that there was a bit of a problem with their former friendship.”
Samantha frowned. “Well, I suppose that it is very respectable for him to admit as such. Perhaps he is not who he once was.”
Grace watched as the men disappeared into the crowed and hoped sincerely that Samantha was right.
But only time would tell.
Which was the devil when you were born impatient, like her.
