She tilted her head, examining him as they became silent again. Now his attention kept returning, over and over to the Crestwood party, his bright eyes becoming duller and duller with each turn of the dance.
And she longed, yet again, to comfort him somehow. Or to pull him out of his fog, at least. It wasn’t her place. Even as Lydia, the woman he had all but ravished in a dressing room, it wasn’t her place.
But she didn’t give a damn about her place in that moment.
“May I ask you a question?”
He jolted, almost as if he had forgotten her being there, and turned his attention back to her. “You may.”
She swallowed hard before she asked, “Did you love the Duchess of Crestwood?”
A plethora of emotion crossed his face at that question. First there was shock that she would dare to ask it. Then pain and finally anger. Anger at them. Anger at her. His blue eyes narrowed and he speared her with a look that she had no doubt had frozen the hearts of many an adversary.
“Most would not be so bold or so foolish as to ask me such a thing,” he growled.
She supposed the low tone was meant to frighten her, but it only made her think of his sensual words in the theatre a few nights before.
She lifted her chin and fought for the confidence that came so easily when she was Lydia. “Perhaps not, but you have invited me into your dramas by asking me to dance. Now everyone is looking at me as well as you. I cannot help but be curious about what has brought us here.”
He held her gaze for a long moment, then pushed away for a few steps of the dance. When he returned to grasp her hand again, his expression had softened.
“No,” he said, his voice so low it was almost imperceptible over the music. “I did not love her.”
The relief that flooded Adelaide in that moment was far too strong. It felt like someone had taken weights from her shoulders and she was free. But of course she wasn’t. This man didn’t even recognize her as the one he’d tried to seduce. Even if he did, there were no promises. Just a lusty encounter he likely regretted and would never repeat.
But knowing he didn’t love the beautiful woman he kept staring at still brought her ease. She found herself looking at the Crestwood party again. At the duchess, Margaret, especially. No one could deny her beauty. She had a lovely smile and dark, soulful eyes. Ones which held her handsome husband in rapt attention.
There was a connection between them that was powerful, palpable, even across a crowded room. Where Northfield had not loved her, clearly Crestwood did. And she loved him in return.
“They seem happy,” Adelaide murmured.
Northfield’s hand tightened in hers and his frown drew deep. “Thank you. That’s very helpful.”
She jerked her face toward his. “I’m simply saying that if you did not love her and he clearly does, perhaps what happened is for the best.”
For a moment, his expression remained unreadable. Then, to her surprise, it relaxed again. Like he had been freed, just a fraction, from his troubles.
“You are very bold,” he said, though the words weren’t an accusation.
She smiled slightly. “Wallflowers have the prerogative.”
The corner of his mouth lifted up into a half-grin and her heart stuttered.Thatwas the same seductive look he had given her nights ago, when she was Lydia. When he wanted her. Of course, that was entirely impossible in this situation, but she felt the results of it nonetheless.
The music faded and he bowed to her before he took her arm and began to lead her from the floor. “Would you like to take a turn around the veranda?” he asked.
She stumbled at the unexpected question and he steadied her with a brief touch on the small of her back. She drew a few calming breaths before she faced him.
“Still trying to avoid all those eyes?” she asked, feeling them keenly even now.
He arched a brow. “In part.”
“And what is the other part?” she whispered, lost in the intensity of his expression. Lost in the desire she still felt for him even if he didn’t know who she was or what they’d done.
“I like bold,” he said softly.
Her lips parted with surprise. Her inner voice, the intelligent one, screamed at her to refuse him. Reminded her that every moment she spent with this man made it more likely that her secrets would be uncovered. Her life destroyed.
And yet she found herself nodding slowly. “Very well,” she agreed.
