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“In what country are they fashionable?” Silvester asked. “Mongolia? Why do they stand out in that fashion?” He pinched one of the bulges and thoughtfully wiggled it back and forth. “You could hide jewelry in here.”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“Jewelry heist,” Silvester suggested. “Snatch a diamond bracelet and store it in your sleeves.”

“Each bunch is padded with tulle, so I have no room for ill-gotten gains. During the bouncy parts of the cotillion, I feared they might bonk someone on the shoulder.”

“How many strings of pearls are you wearing?”

“Four,” she said, dimpling at him. “Mine and my grandmother’s.”

“You have a distinct resemblance to a winning racehorse decked out in a wreath of white flowers,” Silvester said thoughtfully. “I would hazard a guess that you are offering a corrective to a grumpy peer.”

“Something like that.” Yasmin hesitated.

“No need to warn me of your pending nuptials,” he said with a sigh. “I saw it coming. Though I will point out, darling, that at least I realize your charm is intrinsic and cannot be dimmed by the yards of fabric covering your admittedly glorious bosom.”

Yasmin gave him a stern look.

“Before you moralize, I assure you that I am also looking for generosity of spirit and spiritual virtue in a wife.”

“Are you actually telling me that the size of a lady’s breasts will come into play when you decide whom to marry?”

“Do you want to know the answer if you won’t care for it?”

Yasmin sighed. “No.”

“Look, here comes your earl, looking like a thundercloud. Are you sure that you don’t want to kiss my cheek?” Silvester tapped his face. “Right here would do the trick.”

Giles appeared from the crowd and bowed before them.

Yasmin held out her hand for a kiss, so that he could appreciate the full impact of her bunched sleeves.

Naturally Giles didn’t let on by a flicker of an eyelash what he thought of her gown, simply touched the back of her glove to his lips. “Good evening, Lady Yasmin. Duke.”

“I suppose you’ve come to tear her away to dance,” Silvester said, rising to his feet. He bowed and departed.

Giles caught Yasmin’s hand, bringing her to her feet.

“I’m afraid I promised the next dance to Lord Boodle,” she said, dimpling at him. “I didn’t expect you to acknowledge my presence.”

“Will you allow me to escort you home?”

Yasmin blinked at him. “My grandfather—”

“I already spoke to him.”

“I don’t usually leave a ball this early.”

Giles’s eyes caught hers. “Please.” His voice was curt, even angry. But surely, that was desperation in his eyes?

She had the dizzying feeling that she would never be able to refuse Giles when he brought the word “please” into play, which didn’t bode well for their marriage. Earls needed to hear “no” at home, since the world so rarely refused them anything.

Then she blinked because Giles’s intent was suddenly clear. He was on the verge of kissing her in front of a crowded ballroom, and the devil take the hindmost.

She quickly stepped back and tumbled onto the couch in a flurry of ruffled skirts. By the time she got herself upright, Giles looked more bemused than lustful.

He held out his hand again. “Your sister?” Yasmin inquired once she was upright and he began marching through the room without glancing left or right.