Chapter 24
… my heart dances;
But not for joy; not joy.
—The Winter’s Tale,act 1, scene 2
Bray’s stomach was twisted into a knot. A feeling he didn’t quite understand or know how to handle stirred inside him. He kept telling himself it couldn’t be jealousy.
He refused to let it be jealousy. He could have any woman he wanted. Why did he only want Louisa?
This was the third night in a row he’d come to the Great Hall and watched Louisa dancing with Lord Bitterhaven, and it was at least the eighth night they’d danced in the past two weeks. There could have been other times—probablywereother times—that Bray didn’t know about. The thought of that man making inroads into her affections ate at Bray, making him want to walk over and yank the earl away from her.
Bray hadn’t tried to speak to Louisa since the night they spent together. She hadn’t tried to talk to him either. It had been almost three weeks since he went to her house and comforted her, held her, and made love to her. Many were the times he’d closed his eyes and remembered each whispered sigh, each caress. Thoughts of her beneath him again were killing him.
But his feelings were more than just being restless and missing Louisa. He missed the girls, too. He wanted to see if Bonnie’s teeth had started coming down. He wanted to know what Sybil was up to and if Lillian was still playing the pianoforte. Blast it all, he wanted to hear them squeal in laughter again.
A server passed by with a tray, and he grabbed a glass of red wine. When he turned back around, he saw that Lord Sanburne had walked up beside him. Bray was in no mood for the man’s idle prattle.
“Good evening, Your Grace.”
“Lord Sanburne,” Bray acknowledged dryly, and took a sip of the wine, but kept his gaze on the crowded ballroom below.
“We’re more than halfway through the Season, and no one has seen you dance with Miss Prim yet.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, and quite frankly, we all find it extremely odd.”
“Do you?” he said, still not bothering to look at the pompous earl.
“Don’t you?”
“No. You’ve danced with her, haven’t you?”
“Y—yes,” Lord Sanburne said, stumbling over the word. “Many gentlemen have danced with her, as you well know. Someone needs to, given the fact that you haven’t. The question is, why haven’t you? No one has even seen you talk to her since the first night of the Season. And that was more than a month ago now.”
Bray knew exactly how long it had been, and he didn’t need reminders from this man. “Sanburne, your fascination with my life is beginning to worry me.”
“What? What do you mean? I don’t have fascination with your life. That’s an absurd accusation, and you know it.”
Bray took another drink from his glass and remained silent. The man didn’t know when to quit.
“Well, what do you have to say?” the earl asked pointedly.
“Hold this,” Bray said, and shoved his wineglass into the earl’s hands.
“Ah, ah—now, see here, Your Grace, I’m not your servant!”
Bray paid the man no mind. He strode down into the swirling throng of people in the ballroom. As was his custom, he headed to pay his respects to the widows, dowagers, and spinsters. He waded through the crowd, speaking to some, nodding to others, but as usual, not allowing anyone to detain him for long until he’d kissed the hands of all the ladies lining the dance floor. He knew that would be the one part of the evening he would enjoy. The ladies looked forward to the attention he gave them, and he looked forward to their smiles.
By the time he’d greeted them all, a new dance was starting, so he invited an elderly but still lovely viscountess to join him on the dance floor. Louisa had a new partner, too, a younger, more handsome man than Lord Bitterhaven, but for the life of him, Bray couldn’t remember his name. Miss Gwen was on the dance floor, too, with Mr. Standish. Bray assumed that meant the rakish blade was behaving himself when he was with her. That surprised Bray and pleased him.
Bray kept the conversation going with the viscountess, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to Louisa every chance he got. Her light pink gown was cut far too low. He didn’t know what Mrs. Colthrust was thinking in letting her wear it. Surely Louisa could see that the dandy she was waltzing with had his thoughts on her bosom and not on what she was saying. Thankfully, just as Bray was thinking he’d leave his partner stranded in the middle of the floor and go jerk the man’s head off, the dance ended.
He smiled at the vicountess and escorted her back to her seat. His duty for the evening accomplished, he searched for Louisa once more. He didn’t know why he came to the Great Hall when it was such torture to watch her dancing, talking, and laughing with other men.
But then, he couldn’t fool himself. He did know why. Every once in a while, he would catch her staring at him with her gorgeous blue eyes, and the attention thrilled him. He’d bet his title that whenever she was watching him, she was remembering, like him, their few moments of stolen ecstasy on the settee in her drawing room.
