“Which one was that?” His body touched hers.
“Do you attend these functions often?”
“No.” He twirled her. “Just Alcroft’s. And his masquerades are the best. Sometimes I think he holds them so often because he knows I will attend.”
“You are good friends? I thought you disliked anyone to the manor born?”
She felt his muscles tense beneath her glove, beneath his jacket. “Alcroft and I have been friends a long time. And I don’t dislike everyone in the upper classes.”
“If you say so.”
He spun her and her breath caught. Her feet barely touched the floor when she danced with him. “I do.”
“Where did you learn to dance like this?”
“Down by the docks.”
She tried to look down her nose at him at the same time she held onto him. She had a feeling the heat she could feel in her cheeks and the excitement from dancing showed on her face and negated any glare.
“My mother, if you must know.”
“You danced like this with your mother?”
“I was required to stand in at dance lessons at one time in my life. It was easy enough to apply what I had learned before.”
“Dance lessons, where?”
He pulled her against him again as they turned and his green eyes turned smoky as he lowered his head. Her breath caught and she had the inane thought that this kissing activity really required practicing right now.
The music stopped and he switched his arm from about her waist to underneath her hand. Before she knew what was happening he was escorting her from the floor.
She caught the admiring glances sent their way. More than one woman was eyeing Noble with an avaricious gaze. She had a feeling that most of the people there knew who he was. Apart from the standard masquerade wear, he hadn’t attempted to disguise himself tonight. And even if he had, after that turn about the dance floor, his identity was assuredly obvious to all those who knew him.
They stopped by the refreshment area.
“Noble,” a voice purred, a woman in a fashionable royal blue dress slinking to his side. “I haven’t seen you in a double fortnight. Been keeping away from us?”
“Mrs. Dalworth. I’ve been busy. How is your husband?”
She waved a hand. “Away, as usual.”
“I see. This is Miss Rose. Mrs. Dalworth.”
The woman barely spared her a look and a baring of teeth. “Charming. I wanted to extend the invitation to meet with the ladies at tea. We are interested in sponsoring your foundation. A formal note will be sent tomorrow too, of course, but I wanted to let you know in person. I stopped by your residence today but your butler said you were out.”
“Excellent. I will respond posthaste. What good sense you ladies have.” He smiled charmingly and Mrs. Dalworth preened. Marietta wondered why she didn’t see the hard light in the back of his eyes, the edge behind his charming smile. Mrs. Dalworth seemed only to be taken in with his sweet guile. Perhaps she only saw what she wished to see.
Or what he wished her to see. He manipulated women as easily as making a deft turn on the dance floor. She had to remember that.
“I will see you soon, then. I hope you two enjoy yourselves this evening. I have found patience never lets me down.” Her voice lilted at the end as she sashayed off.
The woman wasn’t even trying to be ambiguous. She had a fine figure, and Marietta knew the features beneath her mask were fine as well. But she didn’t have a chance with Noble. Couldn’t she tell?
“No, she never can. What is intriguing is how you can tell?”
She looked up to see Noble watching her, eyes calculating. She realized with a dawning sense of horror that she had said that last bit out loud.
“Your eyes,” she replied.
