Fortunately, Lady Royston spoke up with the formalities. Always formalities. “I am so pleased you had me invite the Lanscarr sisters, Mr. Steele. They are charming young women and excellent additions to our company.”
“I assured you they would be, my lady,” he answered with her same smooth, albeit false, pretense.
But before more banalities could be uttered, a recognizable male voice said from behind him, “Steele, good to see you.”
Beck turned, unsurprised to find Michael Brogan—who was at the head of a host of men ready to descend upon Lady Royston for introductions to the most beautiful women in the room.
“Brogan,” he said with a nod. He and Brogan did some business together, except Beck did not want the handsome younger man intruding on his plans for Gwendolyn, and he did have plans. Big ones... eventually.
“Delightful evening, Lady Royston,” the politician said, wise to speak first to his hostess before letting his gaze light on the youngest of the sisters, the golden one. “Hello, Miss Lanscarr. It is a pleasure to see you again. May I ask for this next dance?”
He spoke as if no other woman was standing before him, a clumsy move from the usually adroit Brogan. Of course, Beck was pleased that the man hadn’t been focused on Gwendolyn. She was his.
However, everyone, including Miss Elise, was startled when Miss Dara smoothly stepped in front of her younger sister and said, “I would be delighted.” She offered her hand.
Brogan hesitated as if he hadn’t truly registered that there were several Miss Lanscarrs in front of him. He’d only had eyes for one. However, Miss Dara had neatly trapped him. The Irishman could have corrected the misunderstanding, except he was too much of a gentleman. Meanwhile, Miss Dara wasn’t too fine a lady to use the fashionable world’s manners to her own advantage.
What had the locals told Beck about her? She was the force in the family.Fiercely protective of her sisters. Unafraid to do what she must.He now had no doubt she was the one who had clubbed him in the head.Though she be but little she is fierce.
The Lanscarr sisters were one entertaining mystery after another. Beck hadn’t felt so intrigued in years.
Brogan offered his arm to Dara and off they went, although he wasn’t gentlemanly enoughto resist a regretful glance back at the beautiful Elise.
He was right to worry. Lady Royston introduced her to Lord Painswick, a young man from a very wealthy family. Yes, he was boring, but he wasn’t a bad sort as far as Beck knew. Then again, everyone had secrets and failings. They kept Beck in business. Painswick’s buttons threatened to burst as he led Miss Elise past a group of jealous would-be suitors to join the next set.
That left just Gwendolyn... and himself.
She’d been very quiet. He remembered seeing her for the first time in her black garb and being struck by the way she held herself, as if she didn’t wish anyone to know she was afraid. He longed to assure her she was certainly safer with him than she’d been with the Weasel and the lads at the Devil’s Hand. He didn’t expect her to believe him.
“Miss Lanscarr, will you dance?” he asked. He offered his gloved hand. It had been some time since he’d stepped out on a dance floor.
“I believe I should stay with my aunt.”
Several young coxcombs moved forward, anxious to offer in his place. Beck blocked them with his body, and shot a frown toward Lady Royston, who, realizing her cue, jumped in to say generously, “I’ll stay with your aunt. Go, dance with Mr. Steele. Have fun.”
Gwendolyn’s brows lifted as if she didn’t thinkfun and Beck went together. He’d have to prove differently to her.
“They are setting up for the next set,” he prompted her.
“Yes, go on, my dear,” her aunt said. “I’m fine here with Lady Royston. It will also be a pleasure to see all three of my nieces out on the floor.”
Gwendolyn didn’t try to hide her distrust, but she was more courteous than Dara. She placed her hand on his arm.
The weight of it felt good there.
Beck led her toward the couples preparing for the next set.
She spoke. “I would appreciate if you would keep my adventure in Dublin to yourself.”
“I wouldn’t breathe a word,” he assured her.
There was a beat of silence and then she said, “Thank you.”
“We all have our secrets.”
“Does Lady Royston owe you a favor also?”
Several gentlemen, important men, nodded as they passed, acknowledging him with a murmured, “Steele.” Did she notice their deference to him? Did she care?
