“What about food?”
“Food?” His questions were most peculiar.
“Yes. Do you favor pork, duck, lamb, veal, or fish, for example.”
“I recall having duck once when I was a child and remember it being extremely good. Besides that, I’m not really sure since we mostly eat chicken.”
“And what about treats. Sweetmeats or ice?”
“I really can’t say since I’ve never had either.”
“An error I shall set about rectifying as soon as possible. It’s also a wonderful reason to see you again in the near future, Miss Quinn.”
She felt her cheeks warm as his hand pressed a little more firmly against her back. How could she not fall for this man when he embodied everything noble and good, his previous lapse in financial judgment aside. But everyone made mistakes in their youth, and oh, how easy it would be for her to envision a life by his side.
Stop it, you fool. He’s a duke, not a butcher or even a vicar.
And yet, despite the futility of letting herself be swept away by his charm, she found herself saying, “I’d like that, Mr. Gibbs.”
He held her gaze, the intensity suggesting more than what she could ever hope for. And then to her shock and dismay he said, “It would please me if you would agree to call me Anthony.”
The distraction he’d weaved with his questions vanished like morning mist and caused her to stumble. The heel of her foot came down hard on his toes, which made him stumble too, and sent them both careening sideways toward another couple.
Somehow – with what could only be referred to as immense skill – he managed to right them and circumvent the other dancers before they ended up in a sprawl. Ada coughed, choking slightly from shock and the horror of anyone having witnessed the mishap.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped.
“Don’t be. It was my fault for being so forward.” He eased them back into a smooth progression of the dance. “My apologies, Miss Quinn. I shouldn’t have been so careless.”
“It simply caught me a bit by surprise, that’s all.” They were moving slower than before, allowing her the time she needed to readjust her movements. “But I suppose we are friends, so if you’d rather I use your given name, then I shall respect that wish.”
His hand tightened around hers, the strength of his grasp assuring her there was no risk of her stumbling again. “In that case I’ll dare to be presumptuous and ask if I might call you Ada in return.”
Her heart bounced about with increased vigor, leaving her far more breathless than the dance. She swallowed and did her best to ignore the immediate flush she could feel in her cheeks. “I would be honored.”
The brilliant smile he gave her was proof that she’d made the right decision. She relaxed and allowed an answering grin, which bubbled over when he spun her in a wide circle.
“Would you like to take some fresh air on the terrace?” he asked once the dance was over.
She nodded. It was slightly stuffy inside and the dance had only made that more apparent. “I believe I’d like that.”
“Let’s go and inform your uncle then, so he won’t wonder where you’ve gone.”
His thoughtfulness and consideration left Ada slightly in awe. This wasn’t the sort of man a woman need fear. He wasn’t a dastardly Wickham. Nor was he the acerbic Mr. Darcy, who’d been her ideal romantic hero since reading Pride and Prejudice for the first time. If anything, his manner reminded her most of Mansfield Park’s Edward, and she rather likened her relationship with him to Edward’s friendship with Fanny Pryce. Even though they’d not known each other for nearly as long.
Nevertheless, she was comfortable with him and trusted him to have her best interests at heart, to never risk putting her reputation at risk, and to offer whatever support she might need.
She believed her uncle felt the same way, which was likely why he allowed their outdoor stroll without question. It might also have had a little to do with him having a smashing good time with Emily’s father, free from the censure she herself had been forced to endure.
Ada was glad to see him enjoying himself. It lifted her spirits and made her more comfortable accompanying Anthony outside. They exited through a set of French doors and strolled across the granite tile until they stood near the railing. Large torches placed at each corner bathed the terrace in an intimate glow. Additional torches strategically positioned throughout the garden offered just enough light for those who desired a more private stroll to remain within view.
A few people clustered together in various groups were silhouetted against the foliage lining the garden wall. Ada turned toward Anthony, a sudden need to know more about him prompting her to say, “I imagine a man like you, who’s always known he would one day inherit a prominent title, might feel as though his life’s path has been laid out for him since birth.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He placed one hand on the railing and leaned against it, affording him with a casual look. “No one has ever asked me what I’d like to do or accomplish, and I never bothered to wonder about it. Attending Eton was expected. So was attending Cambridge since that’s where Papa, Grandpapa, and all the other previous Dukes of Westcliffe went. My area of study was determined by Papa. Logic and philosophy, which I suppose is useful to some degree, though I rather imagine finance might have been better for me. Who knows?”
“Now that the choice is your own, might you decide to do something other than what was expected of you?” She hastily added, “Besides writing a book, I mean. Do you have aspirations?”
He chuckled softly while sliding his fingertips over the railing in a thoughtful sort of way. “I suppose my immediate goal is to see my sisters settled.”
