Page 70 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

She took his hand and he led her onto the dance floor.

‘You are an excellent dancer,’ she said. ‘You make me look as if I know what I am doing and make me feel as light as a feather.’

Always so deprecating. He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘You make me happy. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight? How proud you make me feel? If I did not, I was remiss.’

Her step faltered for a moment and she gazed up at him eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

He almost laughed out loud at her reaction because the smile she gave him was one of utter delight. They performed a tricky under-arm turn before his arm came round her waist and they danced side by side.

Her eyes were soft when she looked up at him. ‘I don’t think I have ever been so happy,’ she whispered. He wasn’t sure he was meant to hear her words, as she seemed to be speaking to herself.

Perhaps they had finally reached a place where they understood each other. With surprise, he realised that once more he was smiling.

Chapter Fifteen

They stayed at the ball until the early hours of the morning, dancing and mingling and perhaps, Graydon thought, drinking a little too much champagne at the excellent supper.

They had participated in several country dance sets with each other as well as with other partners. It gave him great pleasure to see Florence enjoying herself. She certainly had no shortage of dance partners. Even George had arrived for his turn.

He wasn’t the least bit surprised; she danced well and she seemed to have an easy manner about her, not to mention she looked good enough to eat.

Which was not something he should think about. He did his duty and danced with several unaccompanied young ladies, including Deirdre, who was as sweet and shy as she looked at first glance. ‘Your wife is so lovely,’ she had said at one point when the set had brought them together.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘My mother really likes her,’ Lady Deidre added. ‘Do you think she would like to walk with me in the park one afternoon?’

‘You will have to ask her, but I can’t imagine why not.’

‘Very well, I will ask her.’

He forced himself not to chuckle at her scared expression. ‘I am sure she will be pleased at the invitation.’

Lady Deirdre relaxed. ‘Do you think so?’

‘I do.’

The clock struck one as he led the young woman back to her mother and Graydon went looking for his wife. She had left the ballroom, it seemed.

To his shock, he found her in the card room set off from the ballroom. There were a few other ladies playing, but she was alone with a group of gentlemen at a table where a game of Vingt-et-Un was in full swing. George was at her side and, from his posture, more than a few sheets to the wind. He had a large pile of guineas it his elbow—winning for once. Several men stood around the table and were looking on with great interest.

What the devil? Graydon stood back from the table, watching. He could see her hand from here, but no one else’s. She had a good cards, but nothing special.

The play went round the table a couple of times, and the sums being bet were large. Graydon frowned. There was something odd about the way the cards were falling.

Florence laughed when the play reached her again. ‘No more chips, I am out.’

George touched her arm and murmured something in her ear.

The hairs on the back of Graydon’s neck prickled. What…?

Her hand went to her ear, to her earring. She laughed and shook her head. ‘I think not.’

One of the other gentlemen looked over the top of his cards with a frown. ‘Let her go, Redfern, if she wishes.’

George growled something under his breath.

Graydon took a step closer at her shocked expression. She snapped her cards down on the table and rose to her feet. She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you for the game, gentlemen.’ With a little curtsey, she spun round and her gaze met his.