Page 27 of Only a Mistress Will Do

Once they stood in their places facing one another, Tris took her hand. “Do you dance often, Miss Harper?”

Glancing away from him, she shifted from foot to foot. “I do not dance as often as I would like, my lord. Unfortunately, since my sister-in-law has taken ill I have no one to partner me.” She knit her brows together, which gave her a charmingly fretful look.

“How does Mrs. Harper fare?”

Dora looked away. “No worse but no better, I am sorry to say. Father has postponed our wedding because of it.”

“Yes, so he informed me.” Lord Downing’s letter to that effect had arrived last week, doing nothing to appease Tris’s dismal mood. He wanted to be married, to put the constant temptation of Violet to rest. “Please relay my wishes for her recovery.”

“I will do so. I too pray for it every day.” She gave a little sigh. “Before she fell ill, we used to practice dancing every day.” A blush painted her cheeks. “I am quite fond of it.”

Interesting admission. He’d not have guessed the shy creature would profess a fondness for dancing. “And which is your favorite dance, my dear?”

“Oh, the minuet, my lord. So beautiful and elegant.”

“I believe the first set will be an allemande. Are you familiar with that as well?”

“Of course, my lord.” Miss Harper pursed her lips, the first hint of displeasure he’d ever encountered in her. “I am out of the schoolroom and well versed in all the social graces, particularly the dances. I have been learning them since I was six. I hope you will be pleased.” Her eyes shone with an earnestness that made him regret his baiting of her. She did seem eager to gratify him. Just like a child.

“I am sure I will, Miss Harper.” He squeezed her hand and her cheeks turned rosier. Lord help him, she was no more than a child, not someone he should be marrying. The thought of taking this young creature to his bed was indecent. Tris dropped her hand and looked about for something else to focus on. His gaze landed on Violet, flirting with Donningham, which was even worse. He pulled his attention back to Miss Harper, who stared at him with innocent eyes. Damn, he needed to keep his mind on the dancing. The safest thing he could do, apparently.

The musicians struck up the tune and Tris and his partner bowed, then leaped to the side as they began the opening series of turns under their upraised arms. Damned if Miss Harper didn’t acquit herself superbly, lifting her hands high enough to accommodate him going under easily. Tris relaxed and ducked under their hands again. They came to the balance figure and he couldn’t resist shooting a look at Violet just as Donningham ran his hand around her waist.

Tris stopped in the middle of the floor as his breath whooshed out. A wave of rage flushed his neck and face with heat. He gripped Miss Harper’s fingers, wishing they were the viscount’s neck.

“Ouch, Lord Trevor.”

The room came back into focus as he blinked and shook his head. Her cry, soft but insistent, brought him back to himself, thank God. Another moment and he’d have created a scene that would have scandalized the whole company.

“I am so sorry, Miss Harper. Please forgive me a lapse in memory. I fear you know the dance much better than I after all.”

The other couple broke apart and most of his tension drained away. Damn it, he shouldn’t care about her any more.

“I understand, my lord. You must concentrate or the steps become a muddle.” Miss Harper’s smile grew wider as she drew them together for a series of rosettes.

Tris twirled obediently, their hands firmly clasped, until he became dizzy with the effort of concentrating only on the steps. How much longer before this abysmal exercise was over?

His partner laughed as the allemande ended at last, clearly relishing the dance that had been a torture for him. “Thank you, my lord. I enjoyed partnering you very much.” She gave his hand a fleeting squeeze, so light he couldn’t swear he’d felt it. But she looked down and smiled shyly, so it must have happened.

“Fortunate, don’t you think, since shortly we will be partners for life?”

Her eyes widened until the white showed all around the China-blue irises. She backed away from him. “Y…yes, my lord.” She bumped into Lord Donningham and Tris had to grab her arm to keep her from falling.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Harper,” the viscount said, bowing to her but keeping his eyes on Violet who was at his side. “Good evening, Trevor. Splendid dance, splendid, don’t you think? I enjoyed myself as I haven’t in years.” His grin split his face and he actually beamed at Violet. “As did my charming partner, or so she tells me. She declares me the most exquisite dancer, but of course, I cannot say the lady nay, or I will have a fight on my hands, I daresay. Unfortunate that we cannot dance the second set as well.” A fleeting frown replaced his smile. “But that would cause quite the scandal, wouldn’t it?” Amiable once more, he turned to Miss Harper, who seemed to be trying to hide behind a large potted fern. “Would you do me the honor, Miss Harper?”

“Yes, do, my dear. You deserve a better partner than I, certainly.” He handed her over to Donningham, who tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, already talking a blue streak as he led her to the outer edge of the dance floor.

“Will you dance this set with me, my lord, or will you continue to ignore me?” Violet’s eyes flashed amber fire. She bit her lips, then stopped and looked him in the eyes.

* * * *

Violet prayed he wouldn’t simply walk away from her again. She wanted this one dance so she could tell him her plans to move from Lammas House, to marry Donningham if he asked her, to put paid to their friendship once and for all. She grabbed his hand, ignoring the sizzle that shot up her arm and made her hand burn. It hardly mattered now.

He followed her onto the dance floor and they took their places in the line of couples waiting to exhibit themselves in a minuet. Not the best chance for conversation, for it called for each couple to dance one by one with all the other guests looking on. Still, a few words might be spoken. That would suffice.

“Miss Harper looks delightful, Tris. I hope you will be very happy.” Leading the first salvo would be to her advantage. He had always made her feel as though she couldn’t keep up with his wit or conversation. Not this time, by God.

“She is a sweet girl. I am sorry I didn’t have the chance to introduce you. Perhaps later in the evening.” The stiff, formal manner he affected was off-putting but would make this conversation easier, if she could match his aloof demeanor.