Why did she have to be so beautiful with all those shimmering curls piled high on her head and a few left out to expertly drape across her left shoulder? Their placement drew his attention to the delicate skin around the square neck of her gown. It glowed with youth and health in the candlelight. When his gaze rose to her face, pink tinged her cheeks, whether from the exertionof the dance or because she’d seen the direction of his gaze, he wasn’t certain.
Then heat rose under his collar. She’d caught him staring at her neckline. If she hadn’t thought him a rake before, she probably did now. How could he explain himself? It really had been innocent.
The warmth that coursed through his body argued to the contrary.
“It’s just the dancing,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” she asked as she clasped his hand.
His voice caught in his throat and she blinked up at him with her big brown eyes.
He was an idiot. There was nothing more to it. No matter what he did of late, he was bound to make a muddle of his friendship with Javenia.
“Are you feeling well?” she asked.
The downturn of her full pink lips did nothing to help him find his voice. If anything, his mouth became drier. Where were his charming conversation skills when he needed them most?
He started to cough. Apparently, they were stuck in his throat next to all the pretty compliments he’d swallowed this evening so Javenia wouldn’t think him a rake… which she probably did after he’d ogled her.
His coughing increased, causing him to miss a step and bump into the gentleman on his left.
Javenia’s frown turned into a look of true concern. Like a mother hen, she swooped in, pulled him out of the dancers, and toward the refreshment table. When they reached it, she shoved a glass of questionable looking lemonade into his hand. Even though a few brown specks floated on the top, he took it gratefully.
After several sips, the tickle in his throat subsided. Javenia stared at him expectantly, and he wondered if she was waitingfor an apology. She was well within her right, but which should he apologize for first? Making her leave the dance or his ungentlemanly behavior?
“Please accept my ap—”
“Mr. Roberts, how lovely to see you here this evening.”
Algenon glanced to his left to see a couple of his sisters’ friends beating their fans slowly, their lashes fluttering in the odd way women used when trying to gain a gentleman’s attention.
He nodded to them and gave a clipped “Good evening” before turning back to Javenia.
“You have been out of the neighborhood for quite some time,” another young woman said, joining the first two. Javenia’s sister Janessa had her arm linked through the newcomer’s, a pleased smile on her lips.
“I have.” He wasn’t certain what else to say. All the smiles and eye batting, however, proclaimed the expectation of every young lady present.
He knew full well what they wanted. They were waiting for their fair share of flirtatious compliments. It was what all of Society had come to expect from him, but he’d no longer give it. Four months ago, he’d realized how much his flirting had hurt Javenia. She’d always twitted him about it as if his compliments meant nothing, but there had been true pain in her every look after Miss Weston had kissed him right in front of her. So he clamped his lips shut.
Yes, the pretty brunette holding Janessa’s arm had on a fine pink gown with a fascinating organza overlay, but he’d hold his tongue on the exquisiteness of the dress’s design. And he’d definitely not tell Miss Oak her curls were expertly arranged. He bit down on his lip.
When had his ridiculous ploy to keep his father’s demands at bay become second nature to him? He couldn’t help butnotice the effort each woman had taken to make themselves presentable.
He would say nothing, though. It was not his responsibility to make everyone feel comfortable and seen. The women closed in closer to him, their smiles growing. Pressure filled his chest and his palms began to sweat in his gloves.
He hated disappointing people.
Chapter 6
Javenia couldn’t decide if she should laugh or cry. Algenon looked like a kettle about to blow steam. His hazel eyes grew round as his gaze darted between the ladies.
Normally, he’d have gushed about all of them by now. Their hair, their dresses, even the fine pink in their cheeks. He appeared to be holding his breath to keep the words from spilling out. At least she assumed such by the way his cheeks puffed out slightly.
Was this because of her accusation?
If so, it was impressive. She was tempted to take out her timepiece and see how long he could go before his resolve broke.
Nessa’s friend Miss Carter held out the shimmering overlayer of her dress, letting it glimmer in the candlelight. “What do you think of my new gown, Mr. Roberts?”
