“A kind gift from… a friend,” Frances replied, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.
“Well, you must introduce me to this friend, for I should like exquisite gifts like that!” Harriet crowed, as she finally pulled Frances into her arms.
Over the girl’s shoulder, Frances caught Dominic’s eye, a fresh intensity in her gaze, a soft, enchanting smile upon her lips. A smile that seemed to reach into the very heart of him, stirring up feelings that he had tried his best to keep buried these past three weeks.
“I missed you so much,” Harriet sighed, squeezing Frances tighter.
“I missed you, too,” Frances replied, though her gaze remained on him. “I have thought about you every day. Just today, I could barely eat or get anything done; I was so nervous about seeing you tonight.”
Harriet laughed. “Nervous? Why would you be nervous?”
“I do not know,” Frances replied. “I suppose I was afraid you had forgotten me already.”
Dominic’s heart quickened, his chest constricting as he understood, with all certainty, that she was talking to him. But how could he reply with his daughter right there, and most of London society milling around him?
I have thought of you every day, too. I was anxious you had forgotten me. I was worried you would not be here.
He was trying to come up with a way of conveying that message, when Harriet suddenly pulled away from Frances and stared at something to Dominic’s left. He followed her line of sight, and frowned as a familiar figure approached, not liking the enthusiastic gleam that shone in the man’s eyes.
“At last, I have found it—the place where all the most beautiful women are,” declared Philip Grantham, the Viscount of Ainsley.The gentleman who had made Frances laugh so giddily at the pretend dinner party.
He practically pushed past Dominic to extend a hand to Frances. And as Frances politely put her hand in Philip’s, a bristle of annoyance beetled down Dominic’s neck, igniting a simmering furnace of that sly feeling: jealousy.
“It seems our toast worked,” Philip said as he dipped his head and kissed Frances’ gloved hand. “I have not heard a single bad word spoken about you this evening. Indeed, quite the contrary. Everyone is desperate to know who the ravishing lady in the ethereal gown might be andIhave had the rare privilege of being able to tell them that it istheLady Frances.”
Dominic was aware of his expression hardening, his lip curling as he looked at the spot that Philip had kissed. If the gentleman asked Frances to dance, Dominic did not think he would be able to restrain himself anymore; he would have to take Frances by the hand and lead her out of here, where no one else could touch her or kiss her hand or flirt with her.
Frances smiled and drew her hand back. “I have been exceedingly lucky that, for once, society decided to have a short memory.”
“And, of course, the radiant Lady Harriet.” Philip turned to Dominic’s daughter and dipped into a low bow. “In the announcements, they truly saved the best until last.”
Harriet blushed furiously, turning her head demurely so she would not meet Philip’s gaze. Her hands were clasped, possessed by a sudden shyness that Dominic had never seen in his daughter before. Something she had rehearsed, no doubt, to make herself more mysterious, though Dominic could not remember Frances teaching her that lesson.
“Indeed, if your father does not mind, I wondered if I might dance the next set with you?” Philip said, with a friendly smile at Dominic. “We never did get to see how you dance at that dinner party, but it would be my honor to be your first partner.”
Harriet’s head shot up, her eyes flitting to Dominic. “May I, Papa?”
“If she dances with me, old and slow as I am, I guarantee she shall not have a single space left on her dance card afterward,” Philip said, laughing. “They shall swarm to ensure she has a livelier experience, out of pity alone. Not that she needs their pity; they will fight to dance with her, regardless.”
Unsettled, Dominic surveyed the crowd of guests once more, his eyes narrowing at the sea of young gentlemen who seemed to be fixing their collective stare upon his daughter. Of course, he understood that this was the entire point of the ball, but that did not mean he had to like it.
“Yes, you may dance with her,” he said abruptly.
And then she can dance with Hugo, then me, and then we shall leave.
This had been a mistake. Harriet was too young, too ‘provincial’, too innocent to be paraded around before so many eager gentlemen, who probably cared more for her status as a duke’s only child than who she was as a person. But, seeing as he could not undo her debut, Dominic could at least control who she danced with and who she spoke with.
Men like Philip posed no threat, by his age alone. Had Philip asked Frances to dance, on the other hand…
“Lady Harriet.” Philip offered his arm.
“Lord Ainsley,” Harriet replied, as she gingerly accepted.
They walked off to take their place on the edge of the dance floor, to wait for the previous set to finish. And as Dominic watched them, he suddenly became aware that he was alone with Frances, unchaperoned and unnoticed, as they had not been since before she left Alderwick.
Swallowing thickly, he gazed down at her. “You look beautiful, Frances.” He paused. “I knew it would become you well.”
“You shaved,” she replied with a breathy laugh. “I think I preferred you more rugged.”
