Watching her scan the room, he flattered himself to think she might be looking for him.When her gaze found his, a jolt raced through him at the way she paused and then offered a warm smile in his direction.Too warm and welcoming for someone he should leave alone.
With his pulse betraying every rational thought, particularly the ones he’d marshaled about remaining on his best behavior, Jonathan pushed away from the column and strode toward the von Ostenfelds at the same time as they started toward him.
“Bowen,” Henrik said, clapping him on the shoulder with the enthusiasm of a new friendship, one that had deepened with each encounter.In his free hand, the lieutenant already held an empty glass of punch.
“You looked as though you were standing sentry,” the young officer said.“Have you tried the punch?Wickedly strong.I suspect it could fell a hussar.”
“I did enjoy a glass but managed to keep my wits about me,” Jonathan said, before his eyes slid helplessly, foolishly, gratefully to Lise.
She curtsied, a movement as crisp and controlled as her English.“Lord Bowen.How pleasant to see you again.”
“Miss von Ostenfeld.”He bowed.“You look particularly becoming this evening.Like a straight and slender beech tree in the spring.”Hold your tongue, he admonished himself upon hearing the silly words that had come out of his own mouth.
Her cheeks flushed, making him feel less foolish.“You are kind to say so.”
They began a dance of manners, each word a careful step, with no more flowery romantic compliments from him.Still, beneath the surface ran a current Jonathan would swear he could feel humming in his bones.
Henrik, however, seemed utterly oblivious, and Jonathan hit upon the reason.Lise’s brother, bless him, was a man lacking in subtlety or even the smallest wisp of duplicity.Thus, he saw the world as honest as himself.Thus, after previously telling Jonathan that his sister was engaged, Henrik now believed her safe.
Why else would he have steered her in Jonathan’s direction with the cheerful determination of a sheepdog herding a ewe?
Even then, the lieutenant spied a fellow officer and raised a hand in greeting.He even took a few steps away toward a group of soldiers before recalling his duty.
“Lise, I must have a word with Captain Mercer.You’ll be well, yes?Bowen will keep you company.”
And then he was gone, leaving Jonathan alone with a woman he had no business standing beside.
Her brother, bless his heart, had all the discernment of a turnip.Something of what Jonathan was thinking must have shown on his face, including shock at Henrik leaving his sister with a single man because Lise’s mouth twitched with amusement.
“After warning you off the other night,” she said softly, “he thinks you harmless.”
Just as he’d guessed.
“Doyou?”Jonathan asked, knowing he shouldn’t, because it was another bolder step in their flirtatious dance.
Her eyes met his, and all traces of merriment vanished.“No.”
The music swelled, a familiar cotillion, bright and busy.Perhaps later in the evening, a daring waltz would be offered, the likes of which was still banned at Almack’s.No restraints in the world would keep him from claiming her a second time for that lively romp.
Around them, couples formed sets, hands linking, heels tapping against polished wood.Jonathan offered his hand.
“Would you do me the honor?”
She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she might refuse.But then her gloved fingers settled into his palm, light as a breath, and they moved into the pattern of the dance.
He wondered how Lise became such an excellent dancer, precise yet flowing, her steps as clean as her diction.Was it due to many parties at home?Is that how she met her future husband, her eyes sparkling, chest heaving from whirling over a dance floor?
He was tormented, stupidly wishing to know the details.After all, a life, like a map, was all about the details.
For his part, he was a competent dancer.His tutor at Eton had insisted on it, and his mother had despaired of his tendency to count beats aloud while watching those around him.But tonight, he didn’t stumble or lose his place in the choreographed dance.Jonathan kept his gaze on his partner, and it seemed to him as though the ball, the steps they were making, and even the music had been arranged solely to bring them together.
That’s how it felt.
And like all his feelings for this woman, it was an unfamiliar notion.Something about her drew him in, like he was a hunting hound having caught the scent of a beautiful vixen.
When the figures of the dance brought them close enough to speak, he said, “I have thought of you.”
Her eyes widened.“You should not,” she said in a clipped tone.
