She didn’t dare think of it. She had been seconds away from doing something foolish and irreversible. She couldn’t make the same mistake again.
Chapter Thirteen
The air smelled of rose perfume and beeswax candles. Violins carried most of the tune that drifted from the ballroom of Lord and Lady Strathmore’s London townhouse, which was bathed in warm light and filled to the brim with guests. Isaac stepped through the ballroom doors. With Percy at odds with him, he no longer had anyone to lean on at events like this. There was no one more socially apt or charming to hide behind. Isaac was on his own.
He searched the crowd for Sophia. His height allowed him a clear view above most of the heads in the room, so it didn’t take long for him to find Sophia’s golden-brown curls. Her hair was piled atop her head in an elegant arrangement, a few pearl pins mixed amongst the strands. Her ivory evening gown wrapped snugly around her figure, draping down to an embroidered hem that barely kissed the floor as she walked. Her skin glowed in the candlelight, and he couldn’t look away.
When he had called upon her the day before, he hadn’t expected Lord Blackstone to return home from the club so soon. The viscount’s disapproval had been obvious, but his suspicions had certainly been valid. Isaac had been deeply considering kissing Sophia, right there in Lord Blackstone’s drawing room. Itmight have been in his imagination, but she hadn’t seemed likely to object.
He scanned the crowd for Finchley, relieved to find no sign of those rigid blond curls. Tonight, Isaac had two objectives. First, he was going to keep Percy away from Prudence and coax a confession out of him, and second, he was going to dance with Sophia. Both tasks were daunting, but he had to start somewhere.
Weaving his way through the crowd, he made his way to Sophia’s side. Her lips lifted in a smile as he approached. His heart lurched within him. She was far too beautiful tonight. Mrs. Liddle stood beside her, with Prudence just a few feet away. Lord Blackstone was surely somewhere in the ballroom, so Isaac would have to be quick.
“Miss Hale.” He bowed, meeting Sophia’s gaze. She looked nervous, her gloved fingers clinging to the sides of her gown.
“Mr. Ellington.” She curtsied.
He had planned his words carefully, but now they lodged in his throat. He took a deep breath. “I wondered if I might claim your first dance.”
Sophia’s eyes rounded, her lashes quickly hiding them from view. “You may.” The reply was hesitant—cautious.
“I am determined to change your mind about dancing.”
She looked up at him with a grin. Her dimples left two deep impressions in her cheeks. “I don’t hate it quite as much as everyone seems to think.”
“After dancing with me, you might not hate it at all.” Isaac had been careful about his attempts at flirting the day before, but if this was his only chance to see her without Lord Finchley lurking about, he would have to make the most of it.
Her throat shifted with a swallow. “I warned you that it doesn’t come easily to me. It is more likely that dancing with me will makeyouhate it.”
Isaac laughed and shook his head. His heart hammered, and he almost didn’t say what was on his mind. He gathered his courage, meeting her clear blue eyes with all the sincerity he felt. “I have wanted to dance with you for the past four years. There is nothing you could do to ruin it.”
Her cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink. Did dancing with Lord Finchley make her blush?Unlikely.Isaac clung to that drop of hope as tightly as he could.
Sophia’s eyes shifted at everything but him, as if she were searching for a new subject. “Has Percy arrived yet?”
“He is usually late. But I haven’t forgotten our plan.”
Sophia nodded, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I have been nervous all day.”
“I did notice a change in your demeanor.”
A laugh escaped her. Isaac’s smile spread wider. Why did it suddenly feel like they could converse normally again—the way they used to? He had never dared to dream of speaking so freely with her again. His guard was lowered, and it seemed that hers was, too. “My demeanor does have a way of causing me trouble,” she said in a thoughtful voice.
“I may need to call upon you tomorrow to inquire after its improvement.”
Sophia laughed, but quickly shook her head. “I would not advise that.” She glanced behind her at the same moment Lord Blackstone sprung up beside them. Isaac had never seen him move with such swift agility.
“Mr. Ellington, good evening.” The viscount seemed in better spirits than he had been the day before after stumbling upon Isaac with Sophia in the drawing room. The man did seem more reserved than usual though—and more than a little suspicious.
“Good evening, my lord.” Isaac offered his friendliest smile.
“Where is your cousin?” Lord Blackstone asked. “I have yet to see him arrive.”
“I haven’t seen him either, but I will be sure to inform you of his whereabouts as soon as I’m aware.”
Lord Blackstone grunted in approval, but Isaac could feel his glassy eyes examining him. All the man needed was a magnifying glass and Isaac would feel like an insect pinned to a board. The viscount positioned himself directly between Isaac and Sophia, and he seemed to be completely unaffected by the awkwardness he had created. His lips were spread thin over a frozen smile, but a warning flashed behind his eyes.
Across the ballroom, couples had begun moving into formation for the first dance. Isaac took one large step to the right until he could see Sophia’s face again. “Shall we?” He extended his arm, half expecting Lord Blackstone to intercept him.
