“Good evening Miss Wormsley. It is a delight to see you here tonight.”
She drew an unsteady breath, then favoured him with a slightly forced smile.
“Thank you, Lord Challoner.”
“Might I hope for a dance?”
She stilled, as if most unsure, then she nodded slightly.
“You might, my Lord, for I find that I have this next dance free.”
“Shall we take a turn about the room, whilst we wait for the current set to end?”
Again, that tiny hesitation, and then a nod. He offered his arm, and she placed her hand on it. They set off, seeming most sedate and ordinary as they navigated the periphery of the room. But the heat that filled him from the point where her hand rested was far from ordinary.
He spoke softly, as they walked, barely above a whisper.
“Are you well, Miss Wormsley? Who was it…?”
“I am well, although rather shaken by it all. Even more shaken by what happened when the door opened…”
“Oh? That sounds disturbing.”
“When the door opened, it was Lady Caterton and Lady Elhough.” He drew in a sharp breath at the names. “From what they said, and from what Lady Elhough commented as they left me, they had been sent an anonymous note, suggesting that they would find something scandalous happening in the library. And I can only draw one conclusion from that.”
Nash met her eyes, and they paused a moment in their walking. Horror filled him – it appeared that Winterbourne was even more of a cad than he had believed. They moved again, not wishing to attract undue attention.
“You suspect that Winterbourne…”
“Yes – who else could it have been?”
“But you convinced them that there was no one there but you, innocently reading?”
“I did. I must thank you for saving me. But the money…”
“Is nothing. Your safety and your reputation are what matters. I would not allow you to suffer when I am in a position to prevent it.”
“Thank you. I will be more careful of all men in future, I think. But I will tell my sister nothing of this – I am far too embarrassed by my own gullibility to wish to discuss it.”