“Are you here to ask for a dance with my charge?” Mrs. Zebodar was quick to begin her matchmaking duties.
Julia cringed at the word, as if she were a two-year-old on leading strings. Moreover, back in Chislehurst, a dance in someone’s country home was a great deal less formal.
“Yes, in fact, I am.” His glance looked amused as if he knew she didn’t like all this fuss.
After all, she’d already told him she wasn’t born to this world. In truth, Julia hadn’t given much thought to dancing, far more interested in escaping to the private apartments of their hostess on the next floor up. However, she was interested enough in Lord Marshfield, especially after her sister had warned her away from the man, that she nodded in agreement.
“Do you have a pencil, sir?” Mrs. Zebodar asked, fishing in her own reticule. “For I shall keep track of Miss Sudbury’s partners in my little keepsake book.”
“Alas, my valet does not usually provide me one,” he confessed. However, reaching into his pocket to confirm his words, he opened his palm to reveal an ivory toothpick-case and a few stray anise comfits.
The tools of a rake who did a lot of kissing,Julia supposed. Lifting her glance to his, she was certain his cheeks flushed slightly, as if he knew she assumed he had a pocket full of things to keep his teeth clean and breath fresh for the sole purpose of kissing.
“Never mind, I have found one,” her chaperone commented into the silence.
The earl dropped the items back into his coat pocket.
“And since we are known to one another, I suppose it would be entirely appropriate,” he added, turning his gaze to the matron once more, “if I requested a second dance with Miss Sudbury later in the evening.”
“Yes, I will allow it,” Mrs. Zebodar said.
Julia couldn’t help rolling her eyes. The woman was taking her role entirely too seriously. If they were to continue for the remainder of the Season in this arrangement, then Sarah would have to have a talk with her friend.
“Very well,” the earl said, with a nod of his head to each of them. Then he looked squarely at Julia. “I will claim you soon,” he promised.
Gracious!That made her female parts do a little dance of their own.
“I look forward to it, my lord,” she said, hoping to sound as worldly as he did.
One of his eyebrows lifted before he walked away.
“Mm-mm,”said Mrs. Zebodar. “I’d heard he was quite an out and outer, but he seems perfectly polite to me. Not to mention a rum duke.”
Julia smiled at hearing her own words repeated by a woman who was at least a decade older. And more than merely handsome, the earl had something dangerously wicked about him that Mrs. Zebodar hadn’t picked up on. Maybe that was because Marshfield hadn’t directed an ounce of his wickedness toward the chaperone.
But Julia had felt it, down to her toes.
Claimed by him indeed!
