Delilah waved her hand in the air and glared at a young woman who seemed to be trying to push her out of the way to regain her position by Thomas’s side. Too bad for the young lady, Delilah was skilled in the judicious use of her elbows. “Something like that.” She lifted herself up on her tiptoes to get closer to Thomas’s ear so he could hear her over the din of the annoying ladies twittering. “I’d love to dancenow, however.”
Thomas did not mistake her meaning. He inclined his head toward her, offered his arm, and excused himself from the ladies. A series of long sighs and unhappy murmurs followed them as he escorted Delilah to the floor.
A waltz began to play, and he bowed to her before they began their dance. He’d always been a lovely dancer. As a result, he’d always made her look like a much better dancer than she was. When she forgot a step and landed on his foot, he had a way of making it look as if it were planned. He always maneuvered her back into the proper steps without missing more than one beat.
“I thought perhaps you’d stay at Branville’s side longer,” Thomas said, as they stepped together in the familiar pattern they’d practiced for years.
Delilah swallowed. She’d got a whiff of Thomas’s cologne, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it smelled better than whatever the Duke of Branvillehad been wearing. She forced herself to push that unwelcome thought from her mind and concentrate on what Thomas had said. “Lucy said I shouldn’t overstay my introduction. Meet and elude, or something like that.”
Thomas grinned. “Ah, so you’re being elusive?”
There was no doubt about it. Thomas smelled good.Mon Dieu. “Trying to, at least,” she forced herself to say. Delilah glanced over to where Branville remained talking to his entourage. This time, she noted with some pique, the crowd around him included the lovely Lady Emmaline. “Lady Emmaline obviously doesn’t know about being elusive. She’s been at his side all evening.”
“All evening? I only saw her go over there a few minutes ago.”
Delilah arched a brow. “You’ve been watching Lady Emmaline?”
Thomas laughed and shook his head. “Lucy did ask me to distract her.”
“Oh, yes.” Delilah bit her lip and glanced away. “I suppose you should be doing that instead of dancing with me.”
His grin widened. “Should I abandon you here, then, directly on the dance floor?”
Delilah fought the urge to stick out her tongue at him. Instead, she glanced over his shoulder to Branville’s crowd. “I wonder if he will ask Lady Emmaline to dance.”
“Well, if you’re the one being more elusive, you should have the upper hand, according to Lucy.”
Delilah scrunched up her nose. “Do I have the upper hand, or am I being shortsighted?”
Thomas inclined his head. “What would you tell a lady you were trying to matchmake?”
Delilah pursed her lips. “I’d tell her to be elusive.”
“Then surely you should take your own advice.”
“I am.” She shook her head. “But I don’t have to like it.” She forced herself to smile, then contemplated her next words before deciding to go ahead and say them. She wanted to see his reaction. “My friend Rebecca asked about you.”
He was gazing across the ballroom and hardly seemed to give a toss. “Rebecca who?”
“Lady Rebecca Abernathy.”
He frowned. “She asked aboutme?”
“Yes. And she said you were”—Delilah cleared her throat. She wasn’t entirely certain she should say this next word—“eligible.”
Thomas pressed his lips together and arched a brow. “What do you think? In your expert opinion,amI eligible?”
She lifted her chin. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re eligible. You’re an unmarried duke, aren’t you?” She’d meant it to sound nonchalant, but she suspected that it sounded petulant.Mon Dieuagain.
“But not as eligible as Branville?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.
Delilah stepped on his foot. Perhaps on purpose. He grinned at her and swung her easily back into the steps before she said, “On the contrary, according to Rebecca, you’remoreeligible.”
“Ah, is that so?” He blinked his ridiculously long, dark eyelashes at her.
“Don’t be smug. After all, there is a large difference between you and Branville.”
Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? What’s that? Hair color?”
