His fingers closed around hers,warm, steady, impossibly correct even through the barrier of their gloves and led her onto the floor. The waltz began, and suddenly she was in his arms, one hand on his shoulder and his hand at her waist, closer to him than propriety should allow.
"You look as though you are preparing for battle," he observed, as they began to move. "Should I be concerned?"
"I always prepare for battle when I am in your company. It seems the wisest course."
"Wise, perhaps. But rather exhausting, do you not agree? We could declare a truce for the duration of the dance. A temporary cessation of hostilities."
"And what would that accomplish?"
"I might learn what you were discussing so intently with Deane. You might discover that I am capable of conversation without mockery." His hand shifted almost imperceptibly at her waist, drawing her a fraction closer. "We might both discover something unexpected."
She tried to remain composed, though…
"Lord Deane has asked permission to call on me and I have graciously agreed.”
A change of expression flickered across Martin’s countenance, it was so fleeting that she was half-inclined to believe it a mere trick of her own imagination.
"Has he indeed. How industrious of him."
"You disapprove?"
"I have no opinion on the matter."
"You have an opinion on everything. It is one of your more tiresome qualities."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Very well. If you insist on my opinion; Deane is steady, reliable, and utterly predictable. He will give you a comfortable life and comfortable children anda comfortable seat in the country where you may be comfortably bored for the rest of your comfortable existence."
"That sounds rather pleasant, actually."
"Does it?" He guided her through a turn, his movements so assured that she followed without thought. "You forget, little Wayworth, that I have known you since you were sixteen. I have watched you argue politics with earls and debate philosophy with bishops. I have seen you charm entire rooms with nothing but wit and nerve. You are many things, but you are not a woman built for comfort."
Her breath caught. He was too close…close enough that she could see the flecks of silver in his grey eyes, could smell the faint scent of sandalwood and something darker beneath it. Close enough that every nerve in her body was acutely, painfully aware of him.
"You presume to know what I want," she managed.
"I presume nothing. I merely observe." His thumb moved against her waist, just once, a brush so light it might have been accidental. "You deserve someone who matches you. Someone who challenges you, infuriates you, makes you feel something other than comfortable contentment."
"Someone like you, I suppose?"
The words escaped before she could stop them, sharp and bitter and far too revealing. She observed a sudden fracture in his composure…a momentary agitation that disturbed his features before he regained his accustomed reserve.
"I am no one's idea of a suitable match," he said quietly. "Least of all yours."
"Martin…"
"Edward would end my life," he continued, as though she had not spoken. "And he would be right to do so. You are his sister. Hislittlesister…and I am..." He shook his head slightly. "I am not the man I ought to be."
She did not understand, she was at a complete loss to understand any of this, not the strange tension in his voice, not the way his hand had tightened at her waist, not the expression in his eyes that looked nothing like the careless arrogance she had come to expect.
"You are speaking in riddles."
"Am I?" The mask slid back into place, the familiar smirk returning like armor donned for battle. "Forgive me. I must have had too much champagne. Pray, think no more of it. I spoke with more haste than reflection.”
"I cannot simply forget…"
"The dance is ending." He released her, stepping back to a proper distance so abruptly that she stumbled slightly. "Thank you for the waltz, Lady Vanessa. It was... illuminating."
He bowed and she curtsied…and then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd before she could formulate a response, leaving her standing alone on the dance floor with her heart pounding and her mind in chaos.
