Page 17 of Married to the Rake

He glanced at the doorway. Where the devil was his father, though? It really was not like him to be this late.

Brook headed into the ballroom, aware of a few gazes upon him. It would be impossible to keep his presence from the Larkins forever so he did not avoid partaking in the ball. He had a few obligatory dances with some young ladies and chatted with several old friends.

He could not help but notice Miss Larkin had not danced once yet. Whether it was because she deliberately avoided dancing or because she had not been asked, he did not know. She sat alone while her parents spoke with friends. It would be a mistake to dance with her. Everyone knew of the rift between the families and they would certainly comment upon them dancing. It might even anger her parents too.

But, damn it, he could not let her sit alone all night. He already knew how much she hated balls.

He strode over and her eyes widened. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “My parents are watching.”

“Let them watch.” He lifted a shoulder and offered a hand. “I would like to request the pleasure of the next dance.”

“I never dance.”

“Tonight you do.”

She peered around him and no doubt there was at least a hundred eyes upon them. Her whole face grew red and finally she stood. “You are impossible,” she murmured.

“Indeed I am.” He led her onto the dance floor and took up his position. Though he rather regretted that it was a lively country dance and not one where they could be slightly closer. After several reels, he found himself enjoying the sight of her gleaming eyes and wide smile. Despite her protests, Miss Larkin enjoyed dancing.

“For someone who never dances, you danced finely indeed.”

“This is a simple dance.” She drew a long breath. “Anyone could dance it finely.”

He shook his head as he passed by again. “I think you are a secret dancer, Miss Larkin. You likely practice in your bedroom.”

“How preposterous, I would never do such a thing.”

The way she glanced away from him told differently. He rather enjoyed the image of her prancing around her bedroom in her nightgown. He would not mind viewing such a spectacle in person.

The dance ended all too quickly for his liking. He’d always enjoyed dancing but never quite so much as he had with Miss Larkin. There was something about her innate movements and her ability not to give a fig about what anyone was thinking that made it all the more pleasurable. For a brief moment, he had forgotten why they had joined forces.

He stepped back and bowed to her and she made a face as she gave a curtsy. Brook chuckled to himself. Perhaps once this was all over, they could actually be friends.

“Mr. Waverley!” Brook turned to find a harried-looking footman dashing toward him. “Mr. Waverley!” The man waved at him. Scowling, Brook made his way through the crowd to meet him.

“What is it?” Tension pooled deep in his stomach. He couldn’t think of many reasons why his father would send a footman to fetch him.

“You must return home with haste.” The man paused to draw a deep breath. “Your father…your father has taken ill.”

“Taken ill?”

“A heart attack I fear. Your mother requests you home at once.”

Brook nodded, the dread dissipating and replacing itself with something icy cold. The noise around him dimmed and everything seemed fuzzy.

“Chloe.” He peered around for her. He had to tell her he was leaving. That their plan could not take place.

“I am here,” she said softly.

She had remained directly behind him and had likely overheard the whole conversation.

“I must go.”

She nodded and gave his arm a little squeeze. “I understand. I…I hope everything is well.”

At that moment, there was almost nothing he wanted more than to take her in his arms and hold her close. To absorb all the sympathy she radiated. He’d never wanted such a thing from a woman and to want it from the enemy was preposterous. But wanted it, he did.

“Please accept my apologies. I must make haste.” He turned to the footman and knocked into someone carrying glasses of wine. One took a tumble and splashed on the front of Miss Larkin’s dress. He muttered a curse. “Chloe, damnation. I’m a clumsy fool.”

He tugged out a handkerchief and dabbed at the spill on her chest. She batted his hand away. “Go. I can deal with this.”

Brook nodded and left her with the handkerchief. Damn it all. He should never have done this. He should never have come to the ball. If he had been at his father’s side…

Instead, he had been enjoying himself with Miss Larkin. He only hoped his father never found out.

If he lived, of course.

His father would never forgive him for it.

---