“Nothing gives me more pleasure than hearing your laughter.” He swallowed hard, as though he, too, were caught up in emotion.
“But what if…?”
At her question, he merely shook his head. He did not have the answers to everything. Likely another attribute that had endeared him to his congregation in addition to all of his others.
“I like that about you.” Rhoda did not check her words. “That you do not know everything. That you admit to not having all of the answers.”
He shrugged at her compliment. “No one does. Those who do are likely the most uninformed of us all.”
“My father considers himself all-knowing.” She hadn’t meant to talk about her father. “He blamed my mother for not giving birth to any sons. Because, of course, he had nothing to do with it.”
“Ah. Men. Horrid creatures.” His ready agreement drew a surprising giggle from her. The two of them had somehow come to be standing by a brocaded wall, and he leaned casually against it as he teased her.
He teased her and yet showed understanding in his gaze.
“Not all of you.” Her mouth had a mind of its own tonight. “Not all of you are horrid. And might I add that there are a fair number of unpleasant females as well.”
“Ah, but they appear so much better.”
She swatted at him with her fan. “We hide it well.”
At which, he gazed at her steadily. “You have never been horrid, Rhododendron. Never.”
His intensity sent a shiver through her. She wanted to lean into him, inhale his masculinity, and feel his hands on her skin. How had he become so very dangerous?
She needed to change the mood before she did something untoward. “I wish to know what you like to do when you aren’t fretting over this new earldom of yours. Do you enjoy horses? Archery?” She determinedly clasped her hands behind her back and began strolling along the perimeter of the ballroom.
And he fell right in line with her. “Horses, yes, but I am no expert like Blakely. And archery? I’ll admit I do rather well. My secret vice, and I swear you to secrecy?” He turned, and she nodded in all seriousness. “It’s drawing. Not very manly, I’m quite aware. But not much brings me so much pleasure as capturing the images of my imagination.”
“Watercolors? Painting?” Rhoda was horrible herself. In all honesty, she couldn’t remember having much aptitude for anything other than socializing and fashion.
“Do you doubt me or are you merely expressing disappointment?”
“Neither, my lord.” Instead, she asked about his favorite subjects and mediums. How long he’d painted and what he was painting now.
In return, he answered her questions and, in doing so, shared a little more of himself. Before she realized it, the dancing had begun.
“My dear Lord Carlisle!” Her mother’s voice drew Rhoda’s attention back to their surroundings. She approached most determinedly with a simpering blond debutante in tow. “Have you met Miss Dillingham? And wouldn’t you know, no one has yet to claim this set with her.”
Mother!
How could her motherdothis to her?
Justin, being his most affable self, turned and greeted them both with all manner of politeness. “Miss Dillingham, ah, yes. Indeed, we have met.” He admitted. “Will you do me the honor of partnering me for this set?” He’d dropped Rhoda’s arm as though it suddenly burned and bowed to the lovely heiress.
Of course, the girl tittered and accepted with all false modesty. Rhoda could not keep herself from scowling and did not care much at all who witnessed it.
And then Prescott appeared at their side with Lieutenant Langdon. “Are you not supposed to remain at home with your wife, in mourning?” Rhoda asked the duke somewhat petulantly. It wasn’t fair that he made appearances at social functions when Sophia could not.
He grinned, not at all put out by her veiled insult. “I only came to introduce my comrade about. You needn’t worry. I shall be departing within the hour.”
Of course. Prescott was kindness itself. “Duly noted.” She made a halfhearted attempt at being pleasant but her awareness of Miss Dillingham flirting with Lord Carlisle perpetuated her displeasure.
Blast her mother and blast Prescott.
“If you’ll pardon me.” Lord Carlisle turned to make his excuses to her. “I shall return later to find you for our waltz.” He, too, seemed to have laughter lurking behind his gaze.
That was, until the gentleman beside her spoke up.
