She shook her head.What if he thought she could carry on some flirtatious or seductive conversation?She nearly tripped over her own feet with fear.
“Come now,” he urged her. “On the dance floor, I asked if you would, and you didn’t say no.”
Because she hadn’t heard him.
Since the rest of her dance card was empty, she could hardly beg off due to a prior commitment. Thus, she let Lord Burnley lead her to the refreshment table. In any case, there was only one more dance prior to the intermission, and it was a treat to get a cold drink ahead of the horde of dancers who would rush the tables.
Normally, she stayed put and out of the way during intermission, or, if her brother was not escorting a young lady, he would bring her a glass of lemonade or burnt champagne.
“Will your brother escort you downstairs for supper?” Lord Burnley asked as they sipped champagne and watched the other dancers finish out the set with a Mazurka.
After intermission, there would be four more dances before their hosts called them to a meal in the two rooms set out for dining on the lower floor.
Would Thomas be free?She had missed out on more than one meal when her brother was otherwise occupied. In such instances, she would let everyone go into the prepared supper and usually remained in the ballroom. That wasn’t always as easy to do as she hoped since the hostess of the night would try to make certain any stragglers had an escort. More than once, she’d had to dodge a well-meaning gentleman sent to look for her by hiding in the ladies’ retiring room.
It made for a long night, but an easy way to keep one’s figure trim.
In response to Lord Burnley, Adelia took the opportunity to search the floor for Thomas. He was with a young lady whom she’d seen once or twice. She could tell by the bored look upon her brother’s face, this was not the love match he was hoping for. And who knew if he would be partnered with someone for the important fourteenth dance?
It was tradition for the gentleman during the last dance directly before supper to escort the lady to the meal and sit with her.
She lifted a shoulder. It was out of her hands.
Lord Burnley frowned, then she saw the instant he realized what he needed to do.
“We have only danced once. Will you dance the fourteenth dance with me?”
She glanced at her card, knowing it was empty but wondering what the dance would be prior to dinner. A Caledonian.
She couldn’t think of a reason to say no. Besides, she desperately wanted to say yes. Of course, she couldn’t speak for her bubbling excitement. She would probably stutter out a long series of sounds, and he would walk away from the embarrassing spectacle.
She nodded quickly and emphatically.
At her response, Lord Burnley didn’t hesitate to formalize their arrangement. “May I have the honor of escorting you to supper? I believe Lord and Lady Tourney will have something beyond the mere obligatory soup and chicken.”
In four years, this was the first time a man had specifically invited her to dine, and not because she was his dance partner at the time of the supper break.
“You have a beautiful smile,” Lord Burnley added, and she hadn’t realized she’d been beaming at him.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, you know you are beautiful?” he teased. “Or yes, you will dine with me?”
She felt her cheeks warm. She was practically having a flirtation.
“Yes…to dining, my lord.”
To her delight, it worked out. Thomas had a partner for the Caledonian, and thus, she didn’t have to worry with whom her brother would dine.
Having someone other than Thomas draw out her chair, Adelia felt mature and entirely feminine in a way she never had before. While she hadn’t keenly felt the lack nor believed herself missing out, she now recognized a world of difference between the comfortable meal she would have had with her brother and the deliciously nerve-wracking experience she was having with the garrulous, charming, popular Lord Burnley.
Already understanding her aversion to loquacity, he more than made up for it, ensuring she had everything she needed, commenting on the various courses to make her laugh, and naughtily making sport of some around them who were not in hearing range. Most fortunately, he sat on her left, allowing her to catch everything he said.
It was the most enjoyable dance supper she’d ever attended, and she was sorry when the dessert of sponge cake with strawberries and cream arrived, signaling the meal was nearing its end.
“We have had two dances, but in many of the polite balls, couples are now allowed four.”
“Are they?” The words came out unbidden without her worrying whether she would stutter.
