Page 19

“You didn’t request that waltz.”

“I assumed you were saving it for Lilford. I would have preferred the supper dance, but you had already given it to your grandfather. In case you’d like to start saving a dance for me every night, I choose supper.”

Yasmin smiled. “I like my grandfather, and I enjoy dining with him.”

“Then you’ll be glad to know that your grandfather was one of my grandfather’s close friends. Gramps was not what you’d call an ordinary peer, but your grandfather liked him anyway.”

Silvester waved her dance card in the air. “Even if you don’t marry me, you shouldn’t dance with Edwin Turing, darling—” He bit off the endearment when she frowned at him. “Why do you hate that word so much?”

“I dislike empty endearments in general,” Yasmin said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing footman. Generally, she didn’t drink much wine—though she loved a sip of brandy—but she was feeling oddly melancholy not to have a waltz and a squabble with Giles to look forward to. It made the evening ahead feel long and dull.

After what Giles said about her—what he thought about her—they should never dance together again. Nor kiss, obviously. She had stayed up half the night rehearsing the moment when she would carelessly inform him that she hadn’t saved the first waltz.

It had been ferociously disappointing when he didn’t ask for it.

“Edwin Turing is a loose fish,” Silvester stated.

“I’m surprised to hear that,” Yasmin said. Her grandfather had unceremoniously refused Turing’s proposal of marriage, telling her that the man had neither the requisite money nor status. But he hadn’t mentioned moral failings.

“I know Turing has written a sonnet or two to your eyes, but setting aside his public adoration for you, he’s a voluptuary. He practiced his seductive wiles on one of my sisters, but she unceremoniously gave him a clout on the cheek.”

“He hasn’t offered me an affront.”

“He knows he wouldn’t get anywhere with you. You’re too—”

“Old?” Yasmin supplied. “I do feel like a spinster at times. One of these days I’ll dwindle into a wallflower.”

Silvester blinked at her, startled. “Spinster? You’re the most beautiful woman on the marriage mart this year. All eligible gentlemen are at your feet. The grumpy earl as well, for all he hasn’t asked you to dance this evening.”

Yasmin felt a rush of affection for Silvester, along with a strong suspicion that he was a good deal more perceptive than he allowed others to know. She leaned over and tapped him on the cheek. “Your Grace, you are a great flatterer.”

“You should do that again after Lilford has made his appearance,” Silvester said, laughter running through his deep voice.

“Why?”

“To convince him that he has no chance. Because he has no chance, has he?”

Yasmin shook her head.

“In fact, perhaps you should kiss me.” He caught her hand in his. “On the very cheek where you just caressed me.”

“I didn’t caress you!”

“The earl would think you did,” Silvester said smugly. “If he had the ability, he’d probably throw a spare lightning bolt at me. I’ve seen him glowering at your suitors.”

Yasmin broke out laughing. “A lightning bolt? As in Jove’s favorite weapon? You have completely misjudged that man’s power, not to mention his interest.”

“For months now he’s claimed the first waltz with the most beautiful woman in London without even bothering to smile at you. Godlike powers or magic? To us poor mortals, it felt like Jove had come down from Mount Olympus.”

Yasmin shook her head, giggling. “I do hope you are not implying I could end up in love with a swan?”

One side of Silvester’s mouth crooked into a smile and he said, “That would never be you, Yasmin, would it?”

“No gods have paid me visits clad in feathers. Didn’t Jove show up as a cuckoo bird as well? If I encounter a bird with amorous intentions, I will kick it solidly, god or no. So no, that is not me.”

Silvester’s smile deepened. “I mean, darling, that you are an incredibly good girl, aren’t you?”

Yasmin felt herself going pink.