Page 19 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

Lady Letitia nodded, her big doe eyes casting a dubious glance at Kate. “Will you fetch me some as well, Marcus?”

“I will indeed, my dear.” He beamed at her then turned to his aunt. “Would you like some refreshment as well, aunt?”

“No, my dear. But Miss Locke,” the imposing woman turned her piercing eyes on Kate, “if you would oblige me by staying a moment with Lady Letitia? I just caught sight of Lady Ivor and must have a word with her.”

“Of course, my lady.” Kate curtsied, her mind suddenly clear and focused. “I would be delighted to become better acquainted with Lady Letitia.”

“Then I shall return shortly, suitably laden.” Lord Haversham bowed and started to leave.

“You might remember, my lord.” Kate caught his eye, and his brow rose. “Enough is as good as a feast.” Lord knew she could not deal with yet another brimming glass tonight.

He chuckled, and his eyes sparkled in the flickering light. “I will remember that, I promise.”

She followed him, her rapt gaze keeping track of his lean figure, a graceful and dangerous animal, until he turned the corner toward and disappeared from sight.

Kate settled back, coming down from her tiptoes for the first time since Haversham had appeared. She snapped her fan open and fanned until her hot cheeks cooled. Forcing a deep breath, she smiled at Lady Letitia, who had retreated into her corner. “You must come watch the dancing from here, my lady. Your next partner will be looking for you shortly.”

“Oh, no, Miss Locke.” The girl gave a nervous shake of her head and pressed backward until her shoulders hit the wall. “I am not engaged until the supper dance. Then I am to stand up with my cousin, Lord Carstairs.”

There were at least three sets before the supper dance. This would never do. Lord Haversham should’ve seen to Lady Letitia’s partners. “We shall fill your evening with dancing, never fear, my lady. We cannot countenance you as a wallflower. You should be out on the floor for every dance.”

Lady Letitia shook her head, still trying to inch her way into the corner. “Oh no, Miss Locke. I do not fancy the dances as much as my brother does, or most of the other young ladies here tonight.”

“Truly?” Kate couldn’t fathom such a thing. Everyone of her circle adored dancing. “Perhaps you simply need a partner already of your acquaintance.” She glanced about for Nathan and spied him directly across the dance floor from them. “I see my brother just there, my lady.” Kate pointed her fan at the tall figure deep in conversation with Lady Diana Cholmondeley. “Let me summon him. I am certain he would be most eager to stand up with you.” A brilliant idea hit. “He is an excellent partner in the waltz. I’ve practiced with him for years.” She leaned toward the lady, who visibly trembled. With anticipation, perhaps? “Your brother wouldn’t ever have to know,” she whispered.

Lady Letitia’s gentle eyes widened, and she shook her head until her hair came down in straggles. “Oh, please, no, Miss Locke. Marcus promised to—”

“What, Letitia?”

Both of them jumped.

Marcus stood beside her, so quiet Kate hadn’t heard him at all. “I promised to what, Letitia?”

Chapter 9

Lady Letitia let out a squeak, and Kate jumped at the sound of his voice. “Goodness, Lord Haversham, you gave me such a start.” Her heart beat frantically, and she plied her fan once more to help her calm down.

His sister’s face had paled to the hue of curdled milk. With her wide-eyes showing rims of white, she appeared ghost-like in the darkness of the corner. What had Haversham threatened about waltzing that had his sister so terrified?

“I am truly sorry to have startled you, Miss Locke. Here.” He handed her a glass of lemonade, only two-thirds full. “Perhaps this will guard you from the shock.” His eyes glittered, and he bit his lips against a smile. “And here is yours, Letitia.” He passed his sister another glass, and she took it gratefully, backing toward her corner.

“Thank you, my lord.” Kate took a welcome sip. “I was telling Lady Letitia that my brother would be an excellent partner for a waltz.”

Haversham’s brows shot up. “Indeed, Miss Locke. Ainsley is an accomplished dancer in many dances. If Letitia wishes, she may stand up with him for the next country dance.”

“But not the waltz.” Kate pursed her lips and set her glass down on a nearby table. “It’s rather tart, I fear.”

“Oh, what a pity.” Lord Haversham’s mouth twitched, and his eyes shone with unspoken laughter. “Letitia, is your lemonade too tart?”

“Why no, Marcus. It was fine.” Lady Letitia had drained her glass but continued to clutch it.

“Here, let me take that.” Haversham plucked the cup from her hands and set it beside Kate’s. “I see we all have different tastes. Do we not, Miss Locke?”

“Indeed we do, Lord Haversham.” Lord, but the man could set her teeth on edge quicker than anyone else she knew. Still, looking at his handsome profile in the soft candlelight as he watched the dancers, she had to admit she secretly enjoyed their spats of bantering. The man had a sharp wit that kept her forever on her toes. No other man she’d met had challenged her so often or so well.

As if catching her thoughts, he leaned over to her. “I trust you are recovered sufficiently that you might dance again? Or shall I fetch your brother to escort you home?”

Kate glared at him. “I am perfectly fine, my lord. A fleeting indisposition only.” But had it been fleeting? If he took her hand again, would her feverish symptoms return?