Frances looked so beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever seen her, as she moved gracefully to the rhythm of the music. How could henotbehave as a gentleman should, when dancing with an eligible lady? Indeed, his mind was playing tricks, making him feel as if he really was at a ball with her.
Her green eyes twinkled as she held his gaze, her cheeks flushed, her skin radiant. “It has been… a surprise of the loveliest kind.”
“You thought it might fail?”
A soft laugh escaped her throat. “I did not know if the guests would be so willing to play along, as I did not know who the guests might be.” She paused. “Your cousin chose well.”
Do not speak of him. Do not speak of other men.He bit down the remark, troubled that such a thought had crept into his head.
Why should she not speak of other gentlemen? Why should she not charm them? Why should she not use such a night as this to cast her net, for a fortuitous marriage would certainly rescue her from her scandal? And had he not recently pestered Hugo to find himself a wife? Hugo could do far worse than Frances, though Frances certainly deserved better.
He shook off the bothersome questions and thoughts, for he wished to enjoy what was left of the dance. After all, there might never be such a chance again.
“Has it made you reconsider having more gatherings here?” she asked, as if eager for him to speak again.
He laughed in the back of his throat. “It has not.”
“Lord Ainsley mentioned there was something of a to-do the last time there was a party here,” she said, pausing. “A hunting party, at least.”
“Lord Ainsley?” Dominic frowned.
“The gentleman over there. The one who was seated next to me at dinner,” Frances replied.
Dominic cast a glance toward the spectators, a twist of irritation catching him in the stomach. It was the same gentleman who had made Frances laugh with such ease; the one who had conjured up the feeling that Dominic had never experienced in his life. Envy. Or perhaps its cousin: jealousy. He was unfamiliar with both, so he could not be sure.
“I cannot recall him,” he said gruffly. “But I recall the occasion. Hugo is still apologizing for it.”
She laughed, and all of those unpleasant sensations and unwelcome feelings vanished in an instant. His hand closedtighter around hers in response, his heart feeling rather strange in his chest.
“What happened?” she asked, her smile making her glow, as if illuminated from within. And those eyes… how they sparkled with mirth.
He shook his head. “It cannot be repeated. It is bad enough that Harriet was here when the mischief took place; I would not regale you with all of their antics.” He paused, watching as disappointment crossed her face, dimming her glow. “There was a great deal of brandy involved… and a lot of terrible singing. Terrible,loudsinging.”
Her laughter bubbled up again and that radiance returned with a vengeance, an odd relief sweeping through him.
To think that I might have missed this, if I had refused…
After dinner, he had been in no mood to continue entertaining the guests. They had wanted a tour of the manor, so he had given that role to Hugo, while he had retreated to his study to gather his thoughts and have a stern word with himself. Thelastthing he had wanted to do was get roped into a dance lesson.
Once again, he had succumbed to Frances’ earnest plea, though he had told himself he would not do so again. Yet, for now at least, he could not say he regretted it.
“Did they actually hunt anything?” she asked, grinning.
In the span of one dance, each step seemed to have brought down the guard she had raised since her arrival. When she first came to Alderwick, he could not have imagined her like this, smiling and laughing in his company, apparently unafraid of being so close to him. Indeed, she did not seem to mind at all that they were rather closer than they were supposed to be.
Dominic raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?” He leaned in slightly. “They shot one pigeon, and that was by accident.”
Her laughter was intoxicating, so hearty and musical that he would have happily listened to it all evening. And as they swept back and forth, continuing the steps of the dance, she looked like a woman with no troubles at all. Free. At ease with herself and the manor she had ended up in.
Then, the music faded to a close, and her amusement ebbed with it.
For a moment, she almost looked dazed, as if she had forgotten where she was, glancing around in something like panic. He would not have dared assume what she was feeling but he, too, had forgotten himself for a while.
Now, as the last notes played, reality came hurtling back, punctuated by the sound of rapturous applause. Led, of course, by Hugo and his never-ending enthusiasm.
“If it is not as accomplished as that, do not bother with it,” Hugo told Harriet loudly. “Leave a man in the middle of the dancefloor, in the middle of a set, if he cannot be as graceful and capable as my cousin.”
Frances gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “No, Harriet, donotdo that! Unless the man is rude or uncouth, you must never leave in the middle of a set.”
