“How very reassuring, Wrexford,” she drawled. “You certainly know how to calm a lady’s delicate nerves.”
A chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Would you rather I appeal to your mercenary side? Just think of all the juicy little details you’ll gather firsthand for your satirical drawings now that you have entrée into the inner sanctum of the aristocracy.”
The earl had a point. For her, this wasn’t about flirting and frivolities. Yes, her job put food on the table and allowed an independence few ladies of her class ever achieved. But she did it because she had a passion for fighting hypocrisy and the misuse of power and privilege.
Good versus evil.She knew Wrexford thought her pitifully naïve to believe that light could vanquish darkness....
A none-too-gentle tug roused her from her reverie as he plucked the glass from her hand and set it aside. “Stop woolgathering. They’re striking up the first waltz.”
Charlotte didn’t need to look around to know all eyes were upon her. It felt as if dagger points were dancing over every inch of exposed skin.
“Just imagine they’re all naked,” he murmured.
“Must I?” She let out a ragged exhale, and the knot in her belly suddenly loosened. Leave it to Wrexford to say something so spectacularly outrageous that she couldn’t help but smile. “Now I’m not nervous. I’m merely ill.”
He laughed. And then, as the first notes of the lilting melody began, he swept her into a twirling turn and all rational thoughts went spinning away.
* * *
A sow’s ear?Pulling Charlotte a touch closer, Wrexford guided her through another intricate figure of the waltz.Is that how she sees herself?To him, she possessed the quicksilver grace of a forest wood sprite, a beguiling mix of dark and light dipping and darting through the shadows, eluding all attempts to cage her spirit.
She confounded him. Challenged him. And yes, infuriated him when she charged into places where angels should fear to tread.
His breath caught in his throat at the memory of their recent investigation. He had never been so frightened in his life as when he had opened the door to a secret chamber, uncertain of whether he would find her dead or alive.
“You’re scowling,” murmured Charlotte.
He shook off his dark thoughts.
“You’re supposed to be helping me make a good impression on the beau monde, and instead they’ll think I’m an ungainly oaf who is squashing your toes.”
“I’m notorious for scowling.” Her silken gown, as ethereal and changeable as a puff of smoke, fluttered around her slender hips as they moved as one in harmony to the music. “And for being a dangerous, mercurial fellow with a hair-trigger temper.”
Her lips twitched. “Your bark is far worse than your bite. But be that as it may, you could be Satan Incarnate, but the fact that you’re an earl adds luster to my first dance in Polite Society.” A pause. “So do try to appear as though I’m not driving you to distraction.”
Wrexford couldn’t hold back a smile. “There. Is that better?”
She nodded uncertainly and looked away. They spun through the next few turns in silence.
“Forgive me if my sharp tongue has caused offense,” he finally said. “As you well know, I see the world through a rather cynical prism.”
“Oh, it’s not you, Wrexford. I’ve become quite comfortable with your sarcasm.” Charlotte sighed. “The trouble lies with me. I . . .” She stepped through a turn with unconscious grace. “I never imagined I’d be here. And I suppose I’m still trying to come to grips with how my life has changed.”
“Change is an immutable part of life,” he said. “We grow, we evolve, and we learn to look at things from new perspective. And we come to feel differently about things than we did in the past.”
His words seemed to surprise her. “When we first met, you claimed you didn’t have any feelings.”
“Perhaps I’ve changed.”
Charlotte met his gaze. A current was swirling in the depths of her eyes, but he couldn’t quite fathom its meaning. “I think we’ve both changed.”
Wrexford held his breath and waited for her to go on.
“But . . .” She allowed a rueful grimace. “I couldn’t begin to say how.” Another spin, another twirl. “Or why.”
“Some things defy words,” he agreed.
“And yet—”
