Chapter Four
AS THEY STRODE ABOUTthe ballroom, Robert stole glances at the young woman by his side. He shouldn’t have danced with her. He’d told Stirling he was through with dancing, and he’d meant few words more sincerely. Dancing was where the trouble started, and Miss Glasbarr was trouble if ever he’d seen it. Mercurial hazel eyes. Hair a shade of burnished gold he’d never encountered before, even in Scotland. A beguiling innocence he thought might actually be unfeigned.
So, he’d given in to temptation and danced with her. One set. What could be the harm?
If she’d been tempting in the soft candlelight of the foyer, she was triply so while dancing. No longer nervous, or shaking with some mixture of anger and terror evoked by Dunreid, she was all enthusiasm, vivacity and joy. Watching her dance was enough to make a man call for a priest.
Call for a priest? He was clearly mad. He’d sworn never to fall in love again after Cinthia.
Robert nearly tripped, startled by his thoughts. In his musing, he’d glossed over Kitty Thomas, the young woman who’d jilted him not a week ago. What sort of a monster was he to so quickly forget a girl he’d wanted to marry, his mind and heart already back on Cinthia?
He frowned. Stirling was right. He had never loved Kitty. What he’d loved was the idea of being over Cinthia. Well, he wouldn’t permit himself to imagine his way into love again. Not at the expense of a sweet soul like Miss Glasbarr.
That decided, he doubled his efforts. He would find her a worthy young man. Someone not jilted, jaded and temperamental. A quick scan of the revelers before them revealed several acceptable candidates. He brought her to a halt before the nearest.
“Campbell,” Robert greeted. “May I introduce Miss Glasbarr?”
“Miss Glasbarr.” Campbell shot Robert a surprised look as he bowed over her hand.
“Mister Campbell.” Miss Glasbarr offered a pretty smile. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Miss Glasbarr would like to dance, Campbell. Be a good fellow and escort her in the next set, will you?” That earned Robert two startled looks. Well, what did they expect? He wasn’t her mother. He had no practice making subtle introductions.
Campbell leaned in. “I would, Banbrook, but Dunreid…” He trailed off and nodded his head toward the other side of the room with a roll of his eyes.
Robert didn’t need to look to know Dunreid lurked there, like some sort of many-armed sea slug, his tendrils of malice snaking about the glittering room. “Leave Dunreid to me, Campbell. Take the lass for a set. She’s a delightful partner.”
Miss Glasbarr blushed. She turned her hazel eyes on him in what was likely as near a glare as her lovely features could manage. “Mister Banbrook, really, I’m not a mare at market. If Mister Campbell finds himself too much pressured, I need not dance.”
“You hear that, Campbell? Miss Glasbarr thinks you’re afraid of Dunreid.” Robert added a grin to his words.
Campbell stood up straighter. “I am most certainly not.” He scowled at Robert, then bowed to Miss Glasbarr again. “I would be honored if you would dance with me, Miss Glasbarr.”
“Thank you, Mister Campbell,” she said. “It would be my pleasure.”
She gave Robert a grateful smile. Campbell held out his arm. Miss Glasbarr left Robert’s side to place her hand on Campbell’s ridiculous crimson coat sleeve. Robert suddenly wondered if Campbell truly was worthy. Didn’t the man gamble himself into debt every other Thursday?
As they walked off, Miss Glasbarr’s polite chatter about the weather drifted back to him. She hadn’t chatted with Robert inanely. Did that mean she didn’t care for him?
Robert watched them line up with the other dancers. Miss Glasbarr was vibrant with eagerness. While they waited for the musicians to begin, Campbell looked her up and down, not hiding his appreciation. Robert clenched his teeth. What had possessed him to consider Campbell worthy? A gambler in a gaudy coat was not what Miss Glasbarr needed.
Robert looked about. There had to be someone worthier. His gaze landed on Mister Paterson. Paterson didn’t drink, gamble, dally, or even race. He was the most boring man in Edinburgh. He also couldn’t string three words together in the presence of a pretty female. He was perfect.
With one eye on the dance for Campbell’s leering glances, Robert strode toward Paterson. Dressed in rumpled light grey, which was a sight better than popinjay-red, he stood beside one of the tall windows. Robert agreed with Paterson’s choice of location. He drank in the cool air coming from the courtyard as he approached.
“Paterson,” he greeted.
“Banbrook,” Paterson said cheerfully.
“You aren’t dancing.”
Paterson winced. “I, ah, haven’t made the acquaintance of any of the young ladies present.”
“You’re in luck.” Robert offered a pleasant smile. “See that lovely creature dancing with Campbell? I’m introducing her around. She would be pleased to dance with you.”
“With me?” Paterson appeared startled. His eyes narrowed. “Wait, isn’t that Miss Glasbarr?” He shot Robert a worried look. “I can’t dance with her. Dunreid sai—”
“Dunreid doesn’t own the girl and she wants nothing to do with him. I danced with her. Campbell is dancing with her.” He offered a frown. “I’ve always taken you for shy, not cowardly.”
