“That’s right,” Susan confirmed. It occurred to her that she would have told him Norman was right no matter what, in the interest of making their love appear to be real. But it wouldn’thave created this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. It made her both uneasy and fluttery to think that Norman had seen her—even such a trivial thing about her. That heknewher.
That was the kind of thing that ought to transpire between husbands and wives. She was sure that Gilbert would have been able to tell anyone who wanted to know what Marina’s preferences were about anything. But that was different, because Gilbert was in love with Marina.
She truly hadn’t expected that Norman would ever notice her in the same way.
The white wine was brought around, and Norman plucked one from the tray and handed it to her with the smallest bow, as if he was presenting her with a flower.
Susan took it. “Thank you,” she managed.
The smile he gave her was full of charm. “Anything for you, my dear.”
Oh.So this was a part of the act. Shame and a feeling of foolishness flooded her—of course,it was part of the act. What had she expected?
How cruel that Lady Keethroad is able to see through it, and even I am still falling for it!
She shook her head, sipping her wine. She felt a sudden determination not to drink too much of it. It was obvious that she needed to keep her wits about her. She was letting little things that shouldn’t have had an impact go to her head.
Norman looked at her. “When you’ve finished that,” he said, “I’d very much like to have a dance, if you’re willing. After all, what’s the point in coming to an affair like this if I’m not going to dance with my beautiful wife?”
The smile he gave her would have made anybody melt, and Susan was momentarily deeply grateful that the wine had given her cause to remind herself of the truth—none of this was real. It was all for show.
And dancing with him was part of that show. As conflicted as she felt at the moment, she knew she had to say yes.
“Of course we ought to have a dance,” she said, twinkling at him. “After all, it’s the reason we came, isn’t it?”
She finished her glass of wine and took his hand, and together they walked off in the direction of the dance floor.
CHAPTER 23
Being on the dance floor changed things, although the change was so subtle that at first Susan couldn’t identify what had happened.
It was as if a curtain had been drawn around them somehow. The pressure to pretend, to put on an act, seemed to diminish. It was strange. They were being watched just as much as ever. In fact, there were more eyes on them. Susan could see their fellow dancers glancing at them out of the corners of their eyes, and of course, there were the ladies lining the walls and whispering behind their hands. Everyone had opinions, and everyone felt compelled to discuss them.
But after a moment, she put it together. The difference was that everyone was at a distance now. Everyone was still watching them, but it wasn’t up close the way it had been when she had been talking to her father. They could draw conclusions about what Norman and Susan were doing, but Susan didn’t have to face head-on what those conclusions were.
Also, nobody could overhear their conversation, and that made things feel more private.
“How did you know I liked white wine?” she asked him. “I never told you that before.”
“You always drink it at dinner,” he said with a shrug, not focusing on her face as they moved through the steps of the dance.
She frowned. “You don’t talk to me at dinner.”
“That isn’t true,” he countered. “I always say good evening.”
“A greeting. We don’t have conversations.Not like we did the night of the storm.“When did you take the time to learn anything about me?”
“It isn’t that serious,” he told her. “I pay attention to what you’re doing because you’re my wife. It seems to me that I ought to know what my wife likes to drink.”
She shrugged. “I suppose it was a good idea,” she said. “That way you can be ready to answer questions when my father challenges you about it. I should probably be doing the same thing—picking up little facts about you that I can repeat when someone asks me. What’s your favorite kind of wine?”
He huffed out a laugh. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Well, all right, I know it’s red because I just saw you take a glass of red.”
“That’s all I’m talking about,” he said. “I’ve seen you reach for white wine at dinner, just as you saw me take red today. It’s not ridiculous that I noticed it. Among other things, I needed to pay attention to that fact so that I could make sure you had what you would want at the house. I keep white wine in stock, but if I didn’t, I would want to acquire it for you.”
“Why?” She frowned. “Why would you want to do that?”
