For example, it was wrong to look at her across the parlor as he was now and mark every elegant movement of her hands as she spoke to his mother and Clarissa. To feel a stirring when she smiled or absently tucked a curl behind her ear. She was his future sister-in-law and he was feeling anything but brotherly.
Which only proved that her fears about him were founded in reality. And that he was worse than the father he’d vowed to be better than.
“Lockhart?”
He started and glanced down to find Miss Westinghouse had joined him. She tracked his glance across the room and he shifted, hoping she wouldn’t see his thoughts. It seemed she was oblivious, for she smiled.
“I’m so glad you and Lily are beginning to become friends,” she said.
He almost laughed. He wasn’t sure Lily wanted to be his friend any more than she had before she came into the library earlier in the night.Hecertainly didn’t feel like herfriend. No these sensations in his chest when she laughed softly were much more inappropriate than that.
“I realize it’s important to you,” he managed to croak out.
Her smile fell a fraction, but then she forced it back. “My mother wishes for me to play again tonight. You ought to dance with Lily. She’s a wonderful dancer.”
George closed his eyes for a beat. Dance with her. That meant touch her. Hold her closer than he could usually do in their positions in life. Perhaps it would be his only chance to do so. It was wrong, but he said, “If you would like me to, I’ll ask her, of course.”
“Oh yes, please.”
Miss Westinghouse squeezed his arm awkwardly and then slipped off toward the piano. She sat and immediately her mother rushed to her side to turn pages. Lady Westinghouse looked around the room expectantly and loudly announced, “Alice will regale us with her talents again.”
“I hope you’ll all dance,” Alice added, giving George a meaningful look.
There was no avoiding it now. He drew a breath and crossed the room toward Lily. His mother was already walking away and before George reached her, Kirkwood approached and said something to Clarissa that made her blush before he guided her to the middle of the room so they could begin to dance.
That left Lily alone. Her eyes widened a fraction as he reached her and she dropped her gaze just as she always seemed to when he came near her. Like she was hiding from him. Why was she always hiding from him?
“Miss Westinghouse tells me you are a fine dancer, Mrs. Manning,” he said softly. “And demands that I ask you to partner with me while she plays.”
“Of course she does,” Lily muttered under her breath. Then she gave a tight smile. “Well, if that is what Alice wants…”
He held out a hand and she stared at it a moment. He thought he heard her breath hitch a fraction, but then she caught his hand in hers. He ignored the frisson of awareness that raced through him and drew her to the center of the room.
The song Miss Westinghouse played was rather slow and to his horror, George realized the best dance for it was a waltz. It seemed Lily realized it in the same moment for her breath shuddered as she placed a hand on his shoulder and threaded her fingers through the opposite. She looked up at him and they began to move.
He stared down into her eyes and caught his breath. She was always so artfully dodging him, ducking away, that he hadn’t gotten a good look at those eyes. They were brown, but it was so much more than that. They were bright, they almost sparkled. They put him to mind of…
He stumbled a little at the thought that filled his mind and had to correct himself so they didn’t careen into Clarissa and Lockhart.
“Come now, Lockhart,” Kirkwood teased. “Don’t drag the poor woman hither and yon.”
George managed a dim laugh, but he was still focused on Lily. Her eyes put him to mind of his Aphrodite from the Donville Masquerade the previous week. Her eyes had been just like that, hadn’t they? Or was he misremembering? Was he just placing the image of one woman he wanted over another who he very much shouldn’t as a form of self-torture?
She ducked her gaze slightly and he tightened his fingers against her hip. Her breath caught at that and she jerked that gaze back to his, only this time her pupils were dilated, her lips slightly parted, and in that moment he saw the truth.
Lilywasthe woman from the masquerade. There was no doubt about it anymore, it was as plain to him as his own name, as painful as his own mistakes. Those fascinating eyes widened and it was as if she could read him down to his very soul.
“Please,” she whispered, swallowing hard.
That plea rocked through him, and now there was no doubt. How had he not recognized her from those eyes or her voice? Orhadhe down in some secret, dark part of himself and that was why he’d been drawn to this woman from the start even when she tried to dodge him at every turn?
“Lily,” he said, his own tone low and harsh so the others wouldn’t hear.
“No,” she responded. “Please, pleasedon’t.”
“It was you?” he asked.
She didn’t answer for a moment as they continued to turn, but her cheeks were bloodless now. Her hands shook in his. “I don’t know what you mean.” It was said so weakly.
