Page 11 of The Gilded Masquerade

Again, she chuckled and the sound gladdened his heart that she could find humor in his inability to settle upon a compatible wife.

“You should waltz with her.”

“Will you be troubled if I do so?”

“Heavens, we have not drawn a settlement yet.” She turned to face him, her eyes sad, but the tone in her voice encouraging. “Dear cousin, dance with her.”

“Then I shall save the last for you.” Though he doubted her constitution could withstand the Sir Roger de Coverley or the ball’s duration.

She tenderly smiled.

“I must be introduced,” he said, nervously fixing his mask. “I cannot petition my mother.”

“Well then, you must find her appointed escort. Lady Anne has tasked Cousin Richard to be her champion in the shark-infested waters of an English society ball.”

“I see, ever the devil-may-care cavalier of wallflowers and newcomers.”

“A very unkind duty,” Anne said.

“To him or the lady?” he joked.

“The American is no shrinking violet.”

No, she is not. She is a rose. One cannot help but to see and admire her. “Might I offer you some refreshment, Anne?”

“Thank you, no. There is no need to keep me company until the next dance,” she said with a pained smile.

Nevertheless, he waited patiently beside her, discussing her new physician and his expected arrival to the ball and her plans for Spain, hoping Dr. Bingley would accompany them to make her remaining time less painful by his concoctions.

Them. It seemed to him the decision to marry Anne had been settled upon before his mind and mouth had declared it a fait accompli. Feasibly because, like Richard, Anne knew him better than anyone. Perhaps she believed he would consent to the agreement, even if he did not. To leave his home, though? What of his duty to Pemberley? He sighed, resolved to think on it on the morrow. But to have one Christmas wish of his own, one heart’s desire fulfilled before committing to a future—short and personally unfulfilling as it would be—would be the last wish he ever asked: one dance with Miss Dauntless American.

The polka ended and his steady gaze admired the lady’s graceful neck and shoulders when she curtsied to her partner before being escorted from the dance floor.

“We shall continue this conversation over my mother’s famed ambigu,” he softly said, taking his leave. Focused, he strolled to his cousin setting upon another wallflower to dance.

With a tap to Richard’s shoulder, he said, “I must have an introduction.”

“Well then, I should make one! What has made you come to your senses?”

“The young lady, the American, my mother has placed in your charge for the evening.”

“Ah, indeed a beguiling creature.”

“Well, what is her name?”

“You’re well aware I shan’t divulge such information. However, I can arrange a dance partnering before another secures her hand.”

Quietly besotted, his heart leaped with joy.

“Please, Darcy, do not frighten her with your severe brow or I will regret making the introduction. She is not like the others.”

Stopping in his tracks, he said, “What is wrong with her?”

“There is nothing. I would be quite pleased to pursue her myself, but she leaves for Switzerland in two days.”

“Not enough time to despoil?”

“You do so enjoy making sport of me, Cousin. I can be quite gentlemanly, you know.”