She turned back to face him. “Pardon?”
“You asked me the other night why I returned to London. I’m here to make something right.”
“What sort of thing?”
He grinned at her. “We’re sharing secrets, mademoiselle, not layingallof our cards on the table. The rest is a story for another time.”
She nodded. That made sense. They were opening up to each other. Slowly. She turned toward the door again before his voice stopped her one more time.
“Suffice it to say, I’m here to finally do the right thing by my brother.”
“Le mouton noir?”
“Yes, it’s time I made things right.”
“Does your brother know you’re helping him?”
“Absolutely not.” His grin was unrepentant. “I trust you to keep my secret.”
Danielle contemplated that for a moment. Whatever he was up to, he thought he was helping Rafe. Was he lying to her? Either could be true. She eyed him carefully. For the first time in a long time, she couldn’t read someone. She took a step toward the door.
“Did you want those things?” he asked.
She paused, not facing him. “What things?”
“A coming-out party? Pretty gowns? Beaux?”
She squeezed her eyes shut before turning back to face him. “I wouldn’t know what to do with those things. I have no idea how to dance, carry a fan, or flirt with a beau.”
“You’re doing a fine job with me.” He moved close, pulled her hand to his lips, and kissed it.
“You’re not a beau.” It was difficult to force those words from her throat.
“You know about arranging hair and taking care of gowns. Daphne’s told me how skilled you are.”
“All a lot of doing my best and guesswork, I assure you. I wouldn’t know a waltz from a quadrille.”
“Would you dance with me?” The words were soft and reverent.
“What?” she whispered.
“Dance with me?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Here? Now?”
“You said it yourself, Daphne’s planning a ball. There will be musicians, dancing. When is it?”
“Mrs. Huckleberry said something about next week.”
“Perfect. Dance with me then.”
Was he teasing her again? This time she didn’t like it. Anger rose in her throat. “Oh, yes, I’ll simply saunter onto the dance floor in my maid’s gown with my employer’s brother. It will be entirely proper and no one will raise an eyebrow.”
“Not in the ballroom, of course,” Cade continued. “The music will carry.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re serious.”
“Entirely.”
